"Kiss me, Cole." Meredith lifts her chin and raises her eyebrow. "That's an order."
Something inside me snaps. The last thread of my control, probably. The one I've been clinging to since the day Dex handed me Meredith's file.
I was reviewing security plans in my office when my brother dropped the folder on my desk. "Potential client. Big one. Robert Ashton wants security for his daughter."
I flipped it open, expecting to see the usual details. Instead, I found myself staring at a photo of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Dark wavy hair framing a face. Warm, intelligent eyes. The kind of curves that make a man's hands itch to trace them.
"She's refusing a full detail," Dex explained. "They compromised on one bodyguard who has to stay with her 24/7."
I knew I should pass it to someone else for several reasons. One, taking a personal protection assignment after years behind a desk was a bad idea. Two, I had several reliable men who could do the job.
But the thought of someone else keeping her company burned through me.
"I'll handle it myself," I said, already knowing I was fucked.
Now, Meredith's order hangs between us. "That's an order." As if I need any more prompting.
Fuck it.
My hand slides from the wall to cup her face, thumb brushing across her cheekbone. Her skin is soft, impossibly so, lips parting on a sharp intake of breath.
"Yes, ma'am."
The first touch of her lips against mine is electric. Soft and warm and perfect. For half a second, I try to be gentle, to ease into this, to not overwhelm her. That lasts until she makes a small sound in the back of her throat and fists her hands in my shirt, pulling me closer.
My control shatters. I press her against the wall, my body flush against hers, and deepen the kiss. Her mouth opens under mine, inviting me in, and I accept without hesitation. She tastes like everything I've wanted and denied myself.
Her hands slide up from my chest to grip my shoulders, then one moves to the back of my neck. Her nails scrape lightly against my skin, and I nearly growl at the sensation.
I tangle my fingers in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss further. She responds with equal hunger, arching against me, making those small sounds that are driving me insane, her tongue tangling with mine.
For two years, I've imagined this. For two years, I've tried not to. And none of my imagination came close to the reality of Meredith pressed against me, kissing me like she's been waiting just as long.
I remember every moment of torture from the past two years. Every time I had to stand stone-faced while she unknowingly tested my control.
The first time I saw her swimming laps in her pool at midnight. She wore a simple black bikini, nothing provocative by design, but on her curves, it was devastating. Water streaming down her skin, her hair slicked back. I had to turn away, focus on the perimeter, count backward from one hundred.
There was also the charity gala six months ago. She wore a red dress that hugged every curve, the back dipping low to reveal the elegant line of her spine. I was positioned behind her as she walked to her table, watching every man in the room eye her with appreciation. By the end of the night, I nearly broke three fingers and mentally tortured a dozen more.
Then, that morning, she bent over her desk in that cream silk blouse, the one that gaped just enough to give me a glimpse of the swell of her breasts and the edge of her lace bra. I excused myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face for five minutes straight.
More cold showers since meeting her than in my entire life combined.
But now she's in my arms, pressing herself against me like she can't get close enough, her mouth hot and demanding under mine. My hand slides from her hair down her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her black dress.
I force myself to pull back, needing to see her face, to make sure this is real. Her eyes are dark, lips swollen from my kiss. A flush spreads across her cheeks.
Jesus Christ. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"If you stop now, I swear I'll fire you," she says, still clutching my shoulders.
A laugh escapes me. "You'll fire me for stopping, but not for kissing you senseless against a wall?"
"Exactly." She nods. "Though I reserve the right to fire you if you don't do it again immediately."
"You know why I stopped?" I brush my thumb across her lower lip and tug it down. The little menace responds by sucking it. Fuck. "Because once I claim you as mine, Meredith, the next man who touches you will lose his fingers."
Her eyes widen, but instead of backing away or telling me this is a mistake, she just says, "Okay."
