She doesn’t kiss me. She doesn’t say a word. She simply holds her ground, pressed against the wall.
Dammit.
I just told her to fire me. And yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I won’t be surprised when the head of HR calls me into their office on Monday for making a pass at my boss.
Maybe at some point during our working relationship, I’ll figure out how the hell to be professional around her, but today is clearly not that day.
I pull back, giving her space to breathe, but can’t help the utter defeat etched on my face. My ego isn’t so fragile that I’m upset at her for rejecting me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed.
More beeps echo off the walls as we pass more floors, climbing to the top of her building.
Reese holds eye contact with me, and for turning me down, it’s a boldly confident move. Which is just another thing I like about the woman. She can reject me and not pretend to be shy or apologetic about it.
But as we watch each other, Reese’s right hand reaches out to the panel next to her, finding the emergency stop button on the wall.
Holy shit.Press it. Press that button.
She does.
The elevator jolts to a stop just a few floors below the penthouse level.
There’s a moment that we stand off and I can hardly get my breathing under control. It’s erratic. Frenzied. A physical manifestation of how I feel right now.
Her cherry-red lips open, and all I can think about is how fucking badly I want to smear that color all over her mouth.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Em?”
Is she trying to kill me, letting that little nickname slip off her tongue?
It used to bother me that she wouldn’t call me Monty, but this new name has me hoping I’ll never have to hear her call me Monty when “Em” is an option.
I don’t have it in me to rush this. Instead, I step into her space again, running the back of my hand softly against her cheek. Dragging the pad of my thumb over the red stain on her lips. Cradling her jaw before my palm drops down the column of her throat.
“What are you thinking about right now?” she asks softly.
I breathe a laugh, unsure I could form a coherent thought even if I tried.
But the one that comes to the top of mind is, “Finally.”
All that frustration, all that pent-up sexual tension, all the weeks of bickering come to head and the metaphorical dam breaks.
With both hands, I take her face and finally press my lips against hers.
She melts against me instantly, this sweet sigh of relief slipping past her mouth.
She’s soft everywhere. Soft lips. Soft body.
There’s a moment that I linger there, mouth fused to hers but doing nothing more. A silent reminder that this is her last chance to keep things from going any further between us.
She doesn’t stop me.
Instead, she wraps her hands around my forearms, pulling me in even closer.
That’s when the energy truly changes.
The kiss turns feverish. Frantic. Fucking perfect.
My body covers hers, pressing her against the wall behind her and taking what I want from her mouth. She pushes against me, working to steal back some control, that constant back-and-forth between us evident even in the way we kiss.
