But her cleavage and curves and that fucking dress?—
It wasn’t working.
“I think that’s good enough,” I said, reaching down to grab her wrists before I completely lost control. “Really. It’s fine.”
“But look at the?—”
“Paige,” I gritted, tightening my hold on her wrists. My voice came out rougher than I meant it to. “You can’t pat my crotch and not expect me to react.”
She looked up at me, her hazel eyes widening when she realized what I meant. Her lips parted when she eyed the bulge that strained against my soaked slacks, and the sight of her on her knees, blonde hair slightly tousled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, nearly made me ruin my pants.
“Oh,” she whispered, not moving an inch.
That’s when my office door slammed open.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Jack stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger, and for one moment, I forgot about my soaked pants and my inappropriate thoughts and the fact that Paige was still on her knees in front of me.
Because Jack thought exactly what it looked like. And the satisfaction that flooded through me was fucking delightful.
Ha! Take that, asshole.
“Jack,” Paige said, scrambling to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you, but clearly you’ve been busy,” he said, his eyes raking over her, then me, and then back to her with disgust. “Are you kidding me right now? Three days, Paige. Three fucking days, and you’re already screwing your boss?”
“Watch it,” I said, stepping between them. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
“Or what? You’ll what, Peterson?” he taunted, moving closer. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? Waiting for me to screw up so you could swoop in and?—”
“I spilled coffee on him!” Paige said, interrupting him. “That’s all. I was cleaning it up.”
“Sure you were,” Jack said, laughing bitterly. “Just like I was ‘just talking’ to Olivia, right? Isn’t that how this works?”
“Olivia?” she whispered her old friend’s name, her voice devoid of any emotion. “You screwed my friend?”
Her hazel eyes turned glassy. I saw red, and I couldn’t stand the look on Paige’s face.
“Just like you are screwing my friend!” Jack pointed out. “He was my best-man at our wedding, and now you’re sucking his?—”
“I’m not!” Paige said, her voice full of anger and disgust. “You were in our bed with her, Jack. She’s… she was supposed to be my friend and you?—”
“She meant nothing!” Jack said, throwing his hands up. “It was a mistake. One fucking mistake, and you’re acting like I killed someone. This is exactly what I’m talking about—you’re being fucking dramatic. Using your postpartum hormones as an excuse to blow everything out of proportion.”
The words hung in the air for one fucking second.
And then I punched him. Hard.
My fist connected with his jaw with a satisfying crack. Jack stumbled backward, hitting the wall, and I advanced on him with anger burning through my veins.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growled, grabbing his collar and pulling him close. “Don’t you dare dismiss her pain like that. Don’t you dare blame her for your choice to cheat.”
10
NOT FOR LONG
PAIGE
