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“Why didn’t you come to me first?” Irritation, or maybe hurt, stings in my chest.
“Well, I guess I wanted to see if the idea had legs before I brought it to you.” Her hands flutter nervously. “Plus, you’ve kind of been giving me mixed signals lately. Saying I wasn’t ready and then taking me to lunch with the Oakwood Boys.”
Maybe I have been giving her mixed signals. But that’s my prerogative as her boss, at least until I figure out my own thoughts. “Fine. Tell me your ideas.”
With that invitation, she starts laying out her projects. I’m listening to her, but only vaguely. Most of my attention is on her passion for the topic and how that translates into her body language. Her face lights up, her hazel eyes glow like light shining through autumn leaves. She scoots to the edge of her chair, leaning forward in excitement and giving me a view of her generous cleavage.
My cock thickens. It’s like the release in the shower never happened. I want her naked, wet, and screaming my name.
“Mateo thought it was a good idea,” she finishes up her explanation.
That bastard’s name coming out of my woman’s mouth throws me out of my daydream. “I’m sure he did,” I reply sardonically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she bites back.
I lean forward, done with this professional charade. “It means, Miriam, that while your ideas might be good, they aren’t the only reason you’re getting a good response.”
Without waiting for her response, I stand up and stride around the desk until I’m towering over her.
“Do you know what these men are thinking?” I demand. “Do you know what they want to do to you?”
“Um, I’m pretty sure all they want to do is have a cup of coffee.” She tries to sass me, but I hear the tremble in her voice.
“Wrong.” Impatiently, I grab her by the shoulders, pulling her out of the chair. She has no idea how desirable she is.
“Drake… Um, Mr. Gallagher, I’m not sure what you’re implying.” She slowly backs away from me. “I’m not the kind of woman that men… um, lust over.”
I prowl after her, not letting the distance between us grow. “Wrong again, pet.”
With a gasp, she flattens against the wall of my office. I slowly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, drawing out the tension. She’s right where I want her and I’m not going to let her get away.
“What do they want?” she whispers, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
“They want to do this.” I claim her lips with my own, like I’ve been wanting to do since she walked in the door.
She opens her mouth with a gasp. I deepen the kiss, taking advantage of her surprise. Miriam tastes just like she smells, like cinnamon—hot and spicy—and I’m instantly addicted. Her hands slide to the back of my neck and our tongues battle, sliding against each other until it feels like I’m going to explode.
“This is what they want. This is what they’re thinking,” I growl, leaving her lips so I can taste her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Her head falls back against the wall, forcing her breasts forward. “You’re a goddess.”
Instinct has taken complete control of me. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve been with beautiful women before, but none of them drove me to this level of savagery. Her innocence and passion drive me further over the edge. Her taste, her smell, the sounds she makes—all of it perfectly designed to drive me crazy. I want to claim her, mark her, breed her. And then I want to beat the shit out of any other male who dares to look at her.
My hands find the collar of her shirt, ready to pull it down. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her succulent breasts.
“Drake. Drake, wait.” Her voice is breathy, the soft exhale as she speaks shoots a direct line of fire to my already throbbing cock. I leash the beast, barely, trying to give Miriam the moment she’s asking for.
“Where did this come from?” She licks her swollen lips. The beast inside struggles to break free.
“It came from you. Your shape. Your curves. Your brilliant and sassy mind.” I capture her lips again, needing to imprint her taste in my brain, and do the same for her—so she never, ever forgets who she belongs to.
Miriam pulls back. “But I’ve worked for you for three years. Why now?”
Unable to help it, I growl against her lips. “You think I’m going to let those sons of bitches take what’s mine?”
“Take what’s yours?” Her voice starts confused and grows more confident as she continues. “You mean this is just some chest-beating, penis-measuring, testosterone bullshit?”
My beast feels the moment slipping away and claws at my insides. My hands tingle, desperate to pull her back into my arms. But the fog of desire has cleared from her dark hazel eyes.
She pushes me away, and I let her. Just one step.
