That sexy voice slides through the door and sneaks into the gaps in my clothes, caressing my skin.
I open the door and step inside.
Mario is behind his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He is reading something on his monitor, his face lit by the screen and the soft gray-blue light from the windows.
The city behind him is nearly in darkness, the faint silhouette of the buildings still visible against the evening sky.
He looks up.
That’s all it takes, apparently. Just lifting his eyes to mine.
I remember his hands pinning mine to my bed. His mouth on my throat. His body heavy over mine. His voice telling me to look at him. His fingers in my hair. His lips at my ear.
Mine.
I close the door behind me.
“Ms. Murray,” he says.
My stomach flips.
After everything, that should sound ridiculous.
It does not.
It sounds like a hand tightening in my hair.
“Mr. Conti,” I say.
My voice is steady.
Thank God.
He gestures to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
I sit, place my tablet on my lap, and fold my hands over it.
Composed and professional.
Absolutely not thinking about the fact that this is the first time we’ve been alone since he left my apartment last week.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
His gaze stays on mine for one beat too long.
Then he leans back slightly. “You had a productive week?”
Business. Good. Safe.
“Yes,” I say, perhaps too quickly. “Very productive. We finished the initial access audit and moved into preliminary remediation. I sent Lorenzo the department-level permission exceptions this afternoon. Most of them are defensible, but three still need written business justification before I recommend keeping them active.”
His eyes do not move from my face.
“Benjamin completed the vendor-access comparison, and Ainsley is reconciling payroll permissions with HR’s role classifications. There are inconsistencies there, but nothing unusual for a company that has grown through acquisitions. The larger issue is still cultural. People are treating access like status. If they lose permissions, they feel demoted, even if the access was never relevant to their role.”
“Mm.”
The sound shoots straight between my legs.
