I have to suck in a breath becauseholy fuck.
He smells like trouble. Like bad, bad things.
Things that make my heart race and my cock throb.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” he says, dropping his voice low.
I turn to look at him, in this close proximity. His face is inches away from mine. My gaze settles on his mouth. On his sharp jaw with that expertly trimmed facial hair that looks darker inthe low light of his office. The lights of the city twinkle in the distance, lighting him up like a damn halo. I swallow hard, unable to tear my eyes away from his mouth.
He’s so close. Close enough I could kiss him.
“Um…” I mutter like an idiot. Words feel difficult right now because I’m acutely aware of his presence; how he doesn’tcrowdmy space, so much as he reminds me that it’s big enough for the both of us, but that with one breath, that could be extinguished.
“I said go home,” he breathes. “Oliver.”
I suck in a breath, my heart beating a million miles a minute.
“That’s an order.”
I nod, trying to find the words to speak, trying to rememberhow.
Somehow, I manage.
“Yes, Sir,” I say as I carefully push myself away from the table. Sloane stays where he stands, hand on top of my Chromebook.
He gingerly picks it up, his gaze holding mine. He holds the Chromebook out to me. I look at it like I suppose Eve looked at the damn apple.
“Go on,” he says smoothly. “It’s yours.”
I reach for it and carefully pull it from his hand. “Thank you.”
He nods as I clutch the Chromebook to my chest, wondering if he can hear how loud my stupid heart is beating.
I clear my throat. “I will see you tomorrow, Sir.”
“Mr. Pierce,” he says, his voice a warm caress on my chilled skin.
“Hmm?” I ask as I get to the door.
“You can call me Mr. Pierce.”
I turn around to look at him—hands in his pockets, dark hair falling in his icy blue eyes. Underneath the low-lights and set against the myriad of distant lights, he looks every bit like a villain from those romantic suspense novels the patrons used to borrow from the library.
My phone rings, echoing loudly in the room, and my heart jumps in my chest, knowing who it must be.
Panic floods me as it rings again.
“You should get that,” Sloane says with a shrug. “Might be important.”
“It’s not,” I assure him.
The phone continues to ring as I swallow hard, finding the will to look him in the eye and hold his rapt attention.
He nods. “See you tomorrow, Oliver.”
And with that, I make my exit. Only when I have made it out of the building, onto the sidewalk, do I breathe and pull out my phone.
The call is from an unknown number, but I know it’s Robbie.
