“Don’t bother coming,” he insisted. “I never should have hired you in the first place.”
Before I could say anything else, I was hauled back, the phone snatched out of my hand. “He said he’ll be there. Talk to him like that again and I’ll buy the building and toss you out on your ass and hand him the keys on a silver platter.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Mr. Wasashi erupted “Who is this?”
Kieran’s matter-of-fact tone was cool. “Someone you never want to meet.” He disconnected the call and stuffed the cell back into his pocket. “You’re quitting that place.”
I wasn’t. “Do you really have enough money to just buy the building?”
His full gaze settled on me, and my cheeks turned hot.
The elevator doors pinged and opened into the parking garage. I started forward, but he caught the back of my neck and pulled me around while reaching over to hit a button on the panel, making them close.
“W-what a-are you doing?” I stammered, the flush on my cheeks rising to my ears. Every time he touched me, my body went haywire and my mind short-circuited. I became nothing more than an exposed bundle of nerves, nothing but a lump of quivering anticipation.
“You wanted a goodnight kiss. I want a good morning one.”
I turned to putty right there as he lifted me into his arms, our lips fusing like two pieces of metal soldered together, creating an unbreakable bond. This was not a good morning kiss but one that ended life as I knew it. A farewell to the man who once was resigned to the ordinary but now knew the flavor of the extraordinary. I forgot I was late for work and we were in an elevator. The only thing that existed was his lips slanting over mine. The scrape of his scruff against my skin was addictive, and I grabbed his face with both hands to get even more of the sensation.
Kieran’s approval of my greedy hands hummed into my mouth, vibrating against my tongue and shooting an electric spark down into my dick. I leaned deeper into the kiss, practically smashing my nose against him, and clenched my thighs around his waist.
His hands cradled my ass possessively while he tugged my lower lip between his to suck deep. I whimpered, feeling the startof a climax building in my lower belly. Grabbing his shoulders, I pushed back, chest heaving as I worked to catch my breath. The urge to come was almost impossible to deny, but no way was I about to embarrass myself a second time.
“Work,” I rasped, pointing to the doors.
He slid me down his body, my teeth clenching at the friction against my aching cock. Once on my feet, I raced ahead of him, covertly adjusting my junk in my pants.
Inside his blacked-out SUV, he asked for my address. When I gave it to him, his RBF turned even darker. If he hadn’t just kissed me senseless, I might have been intimidated.
The ride across Buffalo was longer than I would have liked, but wasn’t every drive when you were worried about being late and getting fired? My nerves at the max, both feet bounced against the floorboard, making my knees jump restlessly. My gaze alternated between the road and the clock as I chewed my thumbnail so short it started to bleed.
The stinging pain brought me out of the anxiety-induced fog, and I started down at my nail, now smeared with red.
A much larger hand wrapped around mine and tugged it across the center console. “Why do you do this?” he demanded.
“It’s not on purpose. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time,” I replied, trying to tug out of his grip.
Kieran’s hand tightened around mine, but his eyes stayed focused out the windshield and his mouth stayed shut.
Shame swept through me, leaving me tired and maybe a little hopeless. Looking at my uneven, bleeding nails and torn cuticles, dirty jeans, shoeless feet, and then at the man beside me with his wrinkle-free dress shirt, unfaded black jeans, and neat, unblemished hands, I felt inferior.
In that moment, I could see why the bad habit would disgust him. Most of the time, it disgusted me too. Even still, it was something I couldn’t stop no matter how much I tried.
“My counselor told me that onychophagia is a common body-focused repetitive behavior. She said mine is likely triggered by anxiety and that I bite my nails as a way to self-soothe, an outlet for tension.”
Kieran glanced at me. “You have a counselor?”
“Not anymore. But when I was a ward of the state, they made us talk to one regularly. I haven’t seen her since I aged out of the system.”
The muscle in his jaw bulged, and it made me feel like I did something wrong.
“I know it’s ugly a-and dirty,” I said, once more trying to pull my hand away to tuck it into my lap with the other. “You d-don’t h-have—” I stopped to drag in a breath. The stuttering was also something I’d always done. I was teased for it mercilessly when I was younger. My counselor said that was also probably because of anxiety.
Kieran caught my hand before it could slip away, this time tugging it harder so my body leaned toward him. His lips closed around my thumb.
I stared dumbfounded as his tongue swirled around the tip, swiping across the torn skin and then sucking gently. My belly wobbled as I watched his lips move gently over my thumb, the heat of his mouth stirring my dick yet again.
Releasing it, he glanced at it briefly and then gently returned my hand to my lap. I gaped at him, curling my fingers in so I could hold on to the feeling of him just another moment more.
