“I hate bullying,” she hisses.
Insult roars through me at her choice of words.
“Bullying?That wasn’t—”
She huffs and angles her body toward mine, so I do the same until we’re facing each other.
“It was.Just because she’s a woman, is smaller and weaker than you, and an employee, does not disqualify her from being a bully.”
Every inch of her vibrates with fury and indignation.I’ve never seen her so animated outside of explaining computer-related subjects.
“She planned to run into you then used peer pressure to ensure you played along.I saw her calculate when to leave her desk.She even ducked her head at the last second.It was classic manipulation and a clear case of bullying,” she sneers.
Without my permission, my hand reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear.She flinches but recovers and aims wide, startled eyes up at me.I can’t stop my fingertips from trailing down the side of her throat and along her collar.
“Then I owe you a thank you,” I murmur.
Her pupils shrink and she swallows.
“No, you don’t.I—”
“You saved me, sweet pea.I owe you,” I insist.
Her breath hitches, and a tantalizing blush creeps up from her chest.
“I would’ve helped anyone.No one deserves to be bullied,” she murmurs.
I tease her collarbone before cupping her chin.
“But it wasn’t just anyone.It was me,” I say.
I lean closer, looming above her and holding her in place without touching her body.
Her eyes lose focus.She inhales through her nose.Her heartbeat pounds in her jugular.
“Were you jealous, sweet pea?”She blinks and blushes.I lean closer and whisper, “Don’t be.I’m all yours.”
She swallows and curls dainty fingers around my wrist.
“I wasn’t jealous.I was mad.You looked so uncomfortable,” she says.
I brush my thumb along her cheekbone, marveling at how small and feminine her face is in my hand.
Her lower lip trembles.Tears shimmer in her hazel eyes.My heart aches.
“Don’t cry, pipsqueak.I don’t think I could survive your tears.”She blinks and worries her lip ring between her teeth.I can’t take my eyes off her tempting mouth.
“I’m still uncomfortable,” I half lie.
My discomfort is for a completely different reason, but she doesn’t need the details.
Her brows scrunch.She circles my forearm with both hands.Her fingertips don’t quite touch.
“Did she break the skin?”she asks.
I stand with my heart in my throat and my cock pounding in my trousers as she skims her hands over my bare flesh.The contrast between her delicate fingers and my thick forearms nearly sends me to my knees.I long to feel her hands all over my body as I worship her with teeth and tongue.
At my strangled sound, she jerks her hands away.I take her elbow and guide her back.
