“No.” My voice came out rougher than I intended.
“Good.” She moved to gather her tablet and notes, all business. “Then I think we’re done here. I’ll send you a copy of the documentation for your records, and if you need anything else?—”
“Wait.”
She paused, looking at me with those wide blue eyes. “Yes?”
I should’ve let her go. Should’ve thanked her for her time, walked out, and moved on with my life. But I didn’t.
“I have one more question.”
She set her tablet down slowly. “Okay.”
I stood, closing the distance between us. Not too close—I wasn’t a complete animal—but close enough that I could see the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat. Close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume, something light and citrusy that made me want to lean in and find out where she’d applied it.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Her eyes widened. For a second, she just stared at me, and I braced for the rejection, the professional outrage, the inevitable HR complaint.
Then her lips curved into the smallest smile. “No.”
The air between us shifted. Thickened.
“That was inappropriate,” I said, because apparently, I still had a few brain cells left. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“I liked it.”
My heart kicked against my ribs. “What?”
“I liked it.” She took half a step closer, and now we were definitely too close for a professional setting. “The question. I liked it.”
“Avery—”
“I feel it too,” she said, her voice dropping to something softer, more intimate. “In case you were wondering.”
I was wondering. I’d been wondering since the second she’d walked into my office three days ago and turned my entire world sideways.
“Feel what?” I asked, and yeah, I was teasing her now, pushing to see how far she’d go.
Her chin lifted, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “Chemistry.”
“Chemistry,” I repeated, tasting the word. “That’s a nice way to put it.”
“What would you call it?”
“Pure physical attraction.” I let my gaze drop—just for a second—to her mouth, then back up. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the second I first saw you.”
Her breath hitched. I watched her chest rise and fall, watched the way her lips parted slightly, and every rule I’d ever made about keeping business and pleasure separate went up in smoke.
“Then why don’t you?” she whispered.
That was all the permission I needed. I closed the distance between us in one step, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed her.
And holy fuck.
She tasted like coffee and something sweet, and the little sound she made when my mouth met hers—half gasp, half moan—nearly broke me. Her hands came up to grip my shirt, fistingthe fabric like she needed something to hold on to, and I backed her up until her hips hit the edge of the conference table.
The kiss was supposed to be controlled. Professional, even—if a kiss could be professional. It wasn’t. It was hot and hungry and completely consuming.
