Page 25 of My Girl to Take

“Damn it,” I mutter, straightening as the coffee finishes.

There’s someone in the corridor.

There’s been someone in the corridor all week. That’s the other thing about this room—for years, it was the door nobody opened, and now there’s a man in it who wasn’t in the building a few weeks ago, with a name half this floor recognizes. People find reasons to walk down here. They slow as they pass. Twice, I’ve caught someone doubling back for a second look.

I could put a stop to it. Ten minutes and a word to the right manager, and it would be over by lunch.

I haven’t.

A knock sounds against the door before I can think any further. I don’t even need to look.

“Come in.”

The door opens. And there she is, hair pinned up off her neck and green eyes that come to mine with a softness that makes something in me stutter.

Fuck.

Kiera steps in, closing the door quietly behind her. Her gaze holds mine almost immediately, and everything else fades into the background. The tension from earlier replaced by something that settles low in my gut and doesn’t intend to leave.

“You’re still here,” she says, soft but unsurprised.

“Work,” I reply, lifting the coffee slightly.

She smiles faintly. “I figured.”

I watch her move closer, the way she carries herself more comfortably around me now. Less hesitant, more sure, and it does something to me I don’t want to examine too closely.

“Garth called me,” she says after a moment.

That gets my attention. “Oh?”

“He wants us to have dinner with him tonight.” Her hands clasp lightly in front of her. “As a family.”

I let out a breath. “That sounds like his idea of fixing things.”

“It is,” she admits. “And he asked me to make sure you come.”

A faint smirk pulls at my mouth. “He thinks you can convince me.”

Her lips curve. “Can’t I?”

I step closer. Close enough to see the shift in her expression. The way her breath changes. The way her body answers, even when she’s trying to stay composed.

“You already have, sweetheart,” I say quietly.

Her gaze softens. “Then come with me. When you’re done here.”

I nod once. “I will.”

That should be the end of it. It isn’t. Because neither of us moves.

The space between us is already gone, and I’m reaching for her before I think it through. My hand closes around her wrist, pulling her in.

Her breath catches before my other hand slides to her waist, grounding her against me in a way that feels natural now. I take her mouth. It’s not rushed. It’s not hesitant. It’s deliberate—like I’m choosing this moment instead of losing control of it.

That doesn’t last.

Not when she responds the way she does. Soft sounds against my mouth that go straight to my cock. Her hands moving up my neck and into my hair. It breaks whatever restraint I was holding onto.