CHAPTER 14
JACKSON
Istand at the edge of the crowd, out of her line of sight. I love the concentrated look on her face, chewing her lip as she approaches the main boss—a giant sea serpent—while the secondary boss, a creature made of razor-sharp shells, trails after her.
My gaze switches between the screen, Dakota, and the other people watching. Our lead dungeon designer, Brayden, grows more and more interested the longer the fight goes on.
Dakotaacesit. She takes some hits. Almost dies twice. But then she hits her groove, dodging the serpent’s poison as she lands her blows, constantly moving, attacking, then moving again. When the boss gets to ten percent health, a gasp goes up, making me and Brayden share a smile.
At ten percent, the serpent grows multiple heads, eats the secondary boss—giving him a power increase—and starts attacking at double speed.
Dakota turns, a big smile on her face, and looks right at me. I didn’t know she knew I was standing here. “You could’ve warned me.”
I smile, can’t help it, even with all these people around. Another slip-up. Another mistake. But I don’t give a damn.
“You’ve got this.”
And she does. Sweat slides down her neck, sticking her dress to her. It turns me on even more, her shapeliness on display. The concentration on her face makes me wild. The best part is when she kills the boss and leaps to her feet, clapping her hands together.
She turns toward me, as if she wants to rush into my arms. I want to scoop her up so badly, tell her well done, kiss her on the cheek, then the mouth. Then everywhere else.
I clap with the others, knowing it’s not enough.
“That was excellent,” Brayden says, approaching her. “Absolutely incredible. Would you mind answering a few questions?”
Dakota says yes, then somebody else wants my attention again.
Even from the other side of the room, I can’t take my eyes off her. The event will be winding down soon. I made a mistake, I realize, inviting her here instead of someplace totally private. I’m losing my damn mind.
When I see her leave the room, presumably to go to the bathroom, I make an excuse and leave too. The corridor is quiet. I walk slowly toward the restrooms, hoping she’ll be exiting as I arrive.
Fate helps us. She’s on her phone as she walks out. When she sees me, she slips it into her pocket. “This was thoughtful,” she murmurs, patting the pocket. “Or shouldn’t I mention the dress?”
My answer is to walk right up to her and pull her into my arms.
The sigh she makes shatters something in me. My heart thunders, and my cock thickens with need. I slide my hands to her hips and thrust forward, letting her feel how much I want her.
When our lips touch, she gasps, then whimpers, then sinks into it like she’s been dreaming about this as desperately as I have. I move my hands around to her ass, massaging, greedily squeezing, and pressing.
She pushes firmly against me, her hands spreading down my back. She claws at me like she’s drowning, and I’m the only way she can avoid sinking.
“Oh God,” she whimpers.
“I know,” I groan.
“I’ve never felt this.”
“Me neither.”
She tilts her head at me. “Really?”
“Never,” I say, meaning it. “I’m fucking addicted to you already.”
We kiss again, hotter this time. She slips her hand under my suit jacket and claws her fingernails down my shirt, leaving marks on my back, no doubt. I want her to. Tattoos of our lust, marks of how badly we need each other.
I pull away when I hear voices down the hallway. The hurt look on her face stings me. But I warned her that we had to be careful. Can I really say I’ve been that, though? Careful?
The voices trail off, heading in the other direction.
