Page 66 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

I wait for it, wanting it and needing it more than anything else.

Come on, Sophie. Show me who you really are. Just once.

But she doesn’t.

She swallows and blinks and pulls that mask back into place with an effort I can practically feel from across the room.

“Yes, Mr. Preston,” she says flatly, giving me absolutely nothing.

Then she opens the door, steps through it, and pulls it shut behind her.

I stare at the closed door.

My heart is hammering. My cock is hard as a rock. My hands are gripping the arms of my chair so tightly that the leather creaks.

What the fuck did I just do?

I push both hands through my hair, letting out a long, shaky breath.

I just told a woman, an agent hired by our company, that her dress made her look naked. I manufactured a daily meeting for the sole purpose of being alone with her. I deliberately provoked her, pushing her buttons just to see what was underneath, like a child poking a hornet’s nest to see what happens.

This is not me. I don’t do this. I’m the easy one, the one who makes people comfortable. I don’t antagonize women. I don’t make inappropriate comments about their clothing. I don’t use my position to⁠—

To what? To get a reaction? To prove she’s not as controlled as she pretends to be?

To prove the kiss meant something?

I drop my hands and stare at the ceiling.

You’re losing it, Preston. You’re completely losing it.

Through the glass wall, I can see Sophie back at her desk. She’s sitting very still, staring at her computer screen, her hands flat on either side of her keyboard. From here, I can just make out the lingering pink along her neck.

After a long moment, she picks up her coffee cup, takes a slow sip, and sets it down. Then she starts typing, her fingers hitting the keys harder than they need to.

I watch her for another thirty seconds before I make myself look away.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

Although at this point, I’m not sure whether Friday night at the club will help or just make everything worse.

Either way, I need to get Sophie out of my head.

Because if I don’t, I’m going to do something I can’t take back.

CHAPTER 19

Sophie

The hot water pounds against my shoulders, washing away the burn of the workout.

I trained in my room for two hours tonight, pushing myself harder than usual. I needed it. I needed the pain and the exhaustion to drown out everything else.

To drown out them.

I turn off the water and step out of the shower, grabbing the towel from the hook. The mirror is fogged with steam, my reflection just a blur. I wipe a hand across the glass and study my face, flushed from the heat, hair plastered to my neck.

I’m toweling off my hair when my phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. Griffin’s name flashes on the screen.