“You’re welcome,” he grunts, his hands coming to the top of my desk as he leans over it. He looks down at the top, silence stretching out, before his eyes lift to mine again. “I hope you remember my offer. If you and Emma need help, you can always come to me. You have my number still, yes?”
My lips part as I look back at him. I thought he was so frightening the first time I met him, but now… Killian has the kindest energy of any person I’ve ever met. “Yes, I have it. I really appreciate that, Killian.”
“You don’t have to appreciate me. I just want you to promise me that you’ll call if you need help.”
My jaw tightens as I try to speak. I search his gaze, looking for some indicator as to why we’re having this conversation. “I promise.”
“Good.”
He starts to walk away but I reach out my hand, softly calling, “Killian?”
He turns back to me, the mask he wears when he speaks to most people in place. “Yes?”
“Is something wrong?”
He pivots, walking back to me. “A storm is brewing here in New York. There is no telling who the path of devastation will touch. If it comes near you, call.” And then he turns, his coat flapping out behind him as he walks away.
I watch him go, my brows drawn together.
“Everything all right?” Rush asks.
I didn’t even hear him step out of his office. “I’m not sure. Killian…” I look at Rush. “Did the meeting go poorly?”
Rush leans close. “I’m glad you’re confused by Killian too. I thought it was me.”
That makes my shoulders relax. “Is he prone to odd moods?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Rush meets my gaze. “Now. I’d like to review the meeting I just had with you.”
I nod. “Conference room?”
“My office.” His hand comes to my back as he leads me toward the door.
It’s not that he doesn’t touch me in the office. He does. But this one, with his hand splayed out, feels more like how he touches me in my apartment.
I look over my shoulder to see Rachel staring with wide eyes.
But Rush doesn’t notice as he leads me into his office and then closes the door behind us.
Before I can ask, however, my back hits the door, his body pressing to mine.
“Rush,” I gasp. “What if someone hears?—”
His lips crash down on mine.
I know this is a bad idea, but the feel of his body makes me forget all reason as I wrap my arms around his neck.
His hands find the zipper in my skirt. He jerks it down and then tugs the fabric off so that it pools around my shoes.
His pants follow, getting as far as his thighs, before he’s wrapping one of my legs around his waist.
Pushing my panties to the side, he bends down far enough to angle his cock before he slams into me.
A small zing of pain hits me along with the pleasure. Not that I care. I’d hurt for him anytime.
“I want my cum dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day,” he grunts against my lips as he pumps into me again. “I want any man who goes near you to smell me.”
I’d call him out for the jealousy, but the pain is gone, replaced with a swell of pleasure that has a moan falling from my lips.
