I’d done that. And I couldn’t wait to do it again, hopefully with my cock inside her.
I pressed my hand against the bulge in my jeans. It wanted in on this action, but I was in control, and now wasn’t the right time.
I pulled her legs onto my lap and brushed my hand down her smooth leg. So what if I couldn’t stop touching her? I was simply claiming my territory.
Wait.
I rewound that thought. A week ago, she was my enemy. After blowing up my deal, after fighting me daily in the office for weeks, she’d dragged me four thousand miles from home for mandatory “fun” with people I didn’t even like. Five days ago, when she’d tossed her passport to a crocodile, I’d resented her, knowing she’d make me miss Thanksgiving with my daughter.
But now, I realized I admired her tenacity. And her people skills in bringing us together as a team. I valued her.
No, that wasn’t enough.
Yesterday, she’d laughed at me when I called us “inevitable.” Hell, I’d also been shocked when that word bumbled out of my mouth.
Now I knew how right I’d been. I hadn’t known when I’d joined Apex that a year later, I’d be massaging the irritating COO’s dainty feet, but here we were. And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Her foot twitched, and her eyes opened. Her face was relaxed, a blissful smile on her lips.
“Hey there, gorgeous.” I released her foot and handed her a glass of water.
“Thanks.” She sat up and sipped it. Her throat bobbed. Almost instantly, like the cool water had woken her from a trance, her expression sharpened. Her forehead wrinkled with a frown, and those berry lips pursed. She hauled her feet out of my lap and planted them on the floor, clutching her robe closed.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered.
Intellectually, I knew she was right, but the impulsive part of my brain won the battle for my voice. “Of course we shouldhave.” I barely stopped myself from reminding her we were inevitable.
“No, Cole. That was wrong. You’re practically a different generation. You don’t even like me, and weworktogether. When we go back to the office next week, it’s going to be awkward. What if someone finds out?”
“No one’s going to find out,” I said. “How could they? We’ll be careful. If you want, you can keep arguing with me in the office. And then when we get home?—”
“Wait.” Her eyes were wide and wild. “Home? You mean together?”
I cursed at the foolish part of my brain that had leaped three steps ahead.Dial it back.“You want to do this again. So do I. We’ll be discreet about it. We’ll go to your place or mine, like any other couple.”
“Couple?” She had a special skill with turning my words back on me. “You mean, like, dating?”
Was that what I wanted? To date my irritatingly sexy colleague? I’d sounded certain, but my mouth—or my cock?—was a mile ahead of my brain. I needed to cool off. Wrestle back control. So I forced a lazy smile onto my face. “Or whatever. I’m down to fuck, and I think you are too.”
“Shit. You’ve had your hand inside my vaginaonce, and now you’re proposing a career-destroying sexual relationship? Because you know the woman is always the one fired in these situations.” Her voice had risen in pitch like a firework shooting into the sky, about to combust. “Look, I can’t have this conversation right now. I need to put some clothes on.” She rocketed to her feet.
I stood. This had gone off the rails faster than I could have expected. “Wait. We can work this out. Here. Borrow my clothes.” I strode to the dresser and tore open the package ofclothing the hotel laundry had cleaned for me. I pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. “Take these.”
She glared first at me, then at my clothes. “Fine.” Snatching them, she stomped into the bathroom and shut the door.
I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged at the roots, trying not to remember how it felt when Bridget had done it. Why was I so fixated on her? I should let her walk out. Call it a momentary lapse that led to an indiscretion. It happened all the time. Hell, after my divorce, I’d slept with a former colleague after a few too many tequila shots at the open bar at a conference. The morning after, we’d laughed about it and gone our separate ways.
But I didn’t want that. Not with Bridget. I’d regret it every time I glanced at her across our office and saw that sharp, stubborn chin and blazing blue eyes. I’d want to kiss those deep-pink lips and smear the lipstick across her cheek. I’d want to unravel her tidy chignon and let her hair flow across her shoulders the way it did this afternoon. I’d go to my knees under her desk and beg her to ruck up her skirt and give me a taste. Then I’d want to take her back to my place and do it again, all night.
The rational part of my brain called it an unhealthy obsession caused by hormones and my raging boner. A quieter voice somewhere closer to my racing heart suggested we’d fought so fiercely to cover up our irresistible attraction.
The bathroom door opened, and Bridget emerged. The T-shirt that clung tight to my chest was loose on her, but it didn’t hide her pointed nipples. And even after she’d rolled the waistband, my athletic shorts fit like a split skirt on her, hanging almost to her knees. Seeing her in my clothes sent a surge of possessiveness through me. In that moment, the quiet voice got loud.
It declared she was mine.
“I…maybe I should go back to my room.” She twisted the hem of my shirt.
“No!” Fuck, I sounded unhinged. “I mean, stay. Please. We’ll talk. Or…or…watch TV.”
