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“I don’t doubt that, but I can honestly say I’m not trying to trick you at all. Did what we talked about at drinks the other night bring this on? My”—she looks down at her feet sheepishly—“offer.”
I step closer to her, reaching out to tilt her head back up so I can see her eyes. “Yes. I’ve thought of pretty much nothing besides what you offered me and the photos you sent me.”
Her hands come up to cover her face and it makes me laugh. “Oh, God,” she groans. “I had momentarily forgot about that.”
“Don’t be ashamed. I’m the one who should be. Nobody wants to see a man’s dick in their text, let alone an unsolicited one. You,” I say, reaching to brush a tendril of her hair behind her ear, “looked absolutely beautiful that night. Sexy as hell too, but you just looked radiant, happy. Did you have a good birthday?”
“I did. It was fun, but I think those days are over for me.” She laughs. “I felt awful the next day.” She reaches down and intertwines our fingers together. “I understand why you were uneasy and have questions, but to put your mind at ease about all of this, remember that you came to me about this job with Wade. I never would have gotten the job without that. I never would have even known to apply. I can promise you, our meeting right before finding out you were my professor was a total coincidence.”
I can’t help but smile at that thought. “A lovely one.” She returns the smile, but it quickly falls from her face.
“Actually, speaking of weird things…” She steps away, looking off like she’s remembering something. “I meant to ask you about this. I’ve just been so focused on the interview and school and everything else I completely forgot, but the other week when I went back to work after class, Peter Frisk was waiting for me outside the building.”
“What?” That gets my attention. “What do you mean, waiting for you?”
“Yeah, he said he was waiting for me. I offered for him to come inside and talk in my office, but he wouldn’t.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. The thought of that piece of shit even speaking to Presley again, let alone in her office, makes my stomach curl. I try to tamp down my emotions, uncurling my fingers slowly as I try not to let my emotions take over.
“He gave me his card and offered me a job—I think?”
“A job? I don’t understand.”
“I mentioned that if he needed a publicist—oh, because he said he could use my services or skills or something like that—he’d need to set up a meeting with Lisa because I don’t hire on new clients. He said that I was confused, that he was extending an offer for me to work exclusively for him.”
I don’t know if I want to know the answer to the question I’m about to ask, but I know I have to ask it. I try to remain as calm as possible.
“And are you considering it?”
“God, no!” She gasps, her hand coming up to her chest. “First of all, my allegiance lies with you and Lisa. I would never leave a job like that just because he’s offering more money. Second, he gives me the creeps.”
“More money?”
“Yeah, he said he’d pay three times what I’m making now.”
Now I know this is just some sick, fucked-up game by him. I don’t know why, but I know he wants Presley in his pocket and he’ll do anything to get her there. Okay, I know why; it’s to fuck me over somehow, but I can’t seem to figure out his game yet. An image of the way he kissed her hand that night at the gala while he looked in her eyes and warned her to watch out for me has my blood boiling. That thought pushes me over the edge.
I take two large steps to close the distance between us, backing her against my desk as I snake my hand up around the back of her neck, the other resting on her waist.
“You’re mine.” The words just come out, low and deep. I’m not even sure in what capacity I mean them, but it doesn’t stop me from continuing on with the sentiment. “You work for me. You belong to me. You understand me?”
She’s startled, her eyes wide as she nods her head yes. I lean in closer. I can smell the warmth of her perfume, the sweet notes making me want to bury my nose in her hair.
“Yes”—her eyes grow heavy—“I’m yours.”
I can’t fight the urge any longer. The desire to taste her plump lips has been burning inside me for weeks, months. I close the distance, pressing my mouth against hers softly. Her lips begin to move against mine as I slide her up onto the desk. Her thighs spread as I step between them to deepen the kiss. My hands reach up to tangle in her hair so I can tilt her head, my tongue snaking past her lips and mingling with hers.
She moans, pressing her thighs against me as her hands reach out to clutch my chest. I can’t get enough of her, her taste, her scent, her warmth.
“Why did I ever deny myself?” I mutter, finally breaking the kiss for just a moment before pulling her back to me. My cock feels like it’s itching to explode already, just from the taste of her lips on mine. I’ve never been so turned on from just a kiss before. The buildup to it has been worth it all.
Finally, I pull back. Her lips are swollen, her breathing rapid as her fingers clutch my shirt.
“Have you ever had a man tell you in explicit detail the things he wants to do to you?”
“No.”
I brush her hair away from her face as I contemplate how I want to proceed. “I’ve thought long and hard about your offer, and I want you to know one thing first. You didn’t tease me into this agreement. Your flirty and downright naughty texts you sent me were very much appreciated, but don’t think for one second that you have the upper hand with me because you don’t. I’m in control here.”
