I’m acutely aware of how close she is. Close enough that I can smell the light cherry blossom fragrance that clings to her, feel the warmth radiating from her body. When I turn my head slightly, her neck is just inches from my mouth. I could press my lips to that spot, renew my claim...
I clear my throat, forcing my attention back to the screen. “Mutual benefit. Got it.”
She pulls back slightly, as if sensing the sudden shift in my focus. “And this visual,” she continues, her voice a touch higher than before. “It’s too cluttered. You want the product to be the hero, not buried under a mountain of text.”
I nod, making the change. “Better?”
“Much,” she agrees. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, we’re both perfectly still, caught in a charged silence.
I break it first, turning back to the tablet. “Let’s run through it again. From the top.”
I deliver the revised pitch, incorporating her changes, and it flows better. Feels more authentic. More me. When I finish, I look at her expectantly.
“Better?” I ask.
“Much,” she says, a small, satisfied smile playing at her lips. “It’s actually good now. You’re good.”
“We’re good,” I correct her. “This was a team effort.”
She rolls her eyes, but the smile remains. “Fine. We’re good.”
“Okay,” I say, setting the tablet down on the massive boardroom table. “That’s... actually a lot better.” I turn to face her fully, taking a step closer, unable to stop myself. “You’re good at this.”
“I know,” she says, her voice not quite steady as I take another step, closing the space between us.
“You know,” I say, my voice dropping low without my input, “I still owe you for the help.” I lift a hand, my knuckles gently brushing her cheek, sending a visible shiver through her. “How do you feel about neck kisses as a form of payment?”
I start to lean in, my gaze dropping to her mouth. Her lips part slightly, her breathing shallow. I can smell the subtle change in her scent. A warming, a sweetening that signals her arousal. The air between us feels electric, as if I could shock myself at any moment.
“You don’t owe me anything,” she whispers, but her eyes have gone dark, her gaze dropping to my mouth.
That’s all the invitation I need.
I close the distance between us, my mouth capturing hers in a kiss that is a pure, unadulterated release of all the tension that has been building between us for days.
She makes a small, surprised sound, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, her hands come up to grip my shoulders, her fingers digging in as she answers the kiss with a hesitant, then hungry, passion of her own.
I groan, my own hands sliding down her back, grabbing her hips, and pulling her flush against me. I want her to feel exactly what she does to me, the hard, insistent proof of my arousal pressing against her stomach. I grind against her, just once, a low, possessive growl rumbling in my chest.
She moans into my mouth, her body melting against mine, and I know I’m seconds away from losing control completely. Seconds away from lifting her onto this million-dollar boardroom table and showing her exactly what “mutual benefit” lookslike.
It’s that thought, that raw edge of my own control snapping, that seems to jolt her back to reality.
Just as my mouth leaves hers to trail a line of hot kisses down her throat, her hand comes up, pressing the tips of her fingers gently but firmly against my lips.
I freeze, my entire body humming with a frustrated, electric energy. Her touch is a soft, infuriating barrier. Her eyes, when I meet them, are still dark, dilated, and full of the same hunger I’m feeling. But there’s a new, sharp glimmer of control in them.
“Tristan,” she says, her voice a whisper, even as her other hand is still clutching my shirt. “Wait.”
The words are ripped from my throat, a low, rough growl. “Wait for what?”
“This,” she says, her fingers still pressed against my mouth. “This... is just for now. For fun. A temporary arrangement until the gallery situation is sorted out. Until you guys figure out the static thing. That’s all this can be.”
She’s lying. I can see it in the flush spreading across her cheeks, feel it in the slight tremor of her fingers against my lips. Her body is betraying her words, leaning toward me even as she tries to maintain distance.
I search her eyes, and I know she can see that I see through her. A slow, knowing smirk touches my lips. I don’t pull back from her hand. Instead, I lean into her touch, my lips closing around the very tip of her index finger.
I feel her entire body jolt as I drag my tongue across the sensitive skin of her fingertip.
