I could hear him smirking.
“Yes, of course, Miss Clarke.” I hung up before he could say anything else and there was a knock a few moments later.
“Come in.” He walked in with authority this time.
“You said you wanted to see me?” He raised one eyebrow as if he thought this is going to turn into a sexfest on my desk. Think again.
“Yes. I wanted to discuss the thing that happened in the conference room yesterday and to tell you that it’s not happening again. Ever.” I folded my arms and crossed my legs to emphasize that my body was in lockdown. I might want to get a blinking NO TOUCHING sign.
He grinned at me, still thinking I was flirting. “Never, ever?”
“Never, ever. It shouldn’t have happened the first time, or the second. It was wrong. Very wrong. So, from here on forward, there will be no touching, no licking, no kissing, no longing glances, no undressing via eye contact, no winking, smirking or lascivious stares of any kind. All of this,” I said, motioning to myself, “is off limits. Understand?”
He stared at me for a moment as if he found me fascinating.
“You’re so sexy when you think you’re in control,” he finally said.
“No. I’m not sexy. I’m your boss. And you’re my employee, and any relationship other than a strictly professional one is against the code of conduct that we both signed. So enough of that. I’m not sexy.”
“Yes, you are. You’ll always be sexy.” Ditto, buddy.
“Well, I don’t know what to do about that, so you’re just going to have to deal. The only physical contact we will have from this moment on will be a cordial handshake.”
He leaned back in his chair and the studious look got even more . . . studious.
“Such a shame.” Lucas shook his head slowly back and forth, as if he was lamenting a great loss. “Well, if that’s how you want it, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I’ll just take myself back to my desk.” He stood, but instead of moving toward the door, he came around the desk.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going back to my desk,” he said, as if I’d asked an insane question. I turned in my chair and he was leaning over me, both hands on the armrests of my chair. Seriously, what was happening?
“This isn’t your desk,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Oh, it’s not? I could have sworn my desk was around here somewhere. Perhaps you could . . . help me look for it?” He leaned closer and a smile danced across his lips.
“Mr. Blaine, stop. You are doing exactly what I just told you not to do. Anyone could walk in. And it’s wrong. So—“ I was cut off by his hand racing up my leg.
“Is this my desk? Is it here? Or maybe it’s further up?” His hand goes higher and I grab his wrist to stop it from going under my dress. Maybe I should start wearing pants. Then he wouldn’t have such easy access. That chastity belt would also be a good idea right about now.
“Stop.”
He stared into me with those eyes and it was like he could see into every corner of me, to see the things I kept hidden, the things I didn’t talk about, the things I wanted to forget. And then he pulled his hand back and stood up.
“I believe my desk is across the hall and I think I can find it on my own. I’ll send up a flare if I get lost.” Before I could respond, he was out the door and shutting it behind him.
It was time to take more drastic action.
~*~*~
“Sign this,” I said a half hour later as I slammed a few sheets of paper down on Mr. Blaine’s desk. He looked up in amused bewilderment.
Damn. Even that was sexy. Picture the belly. Gross beer belly with a crooked penis and saggy ballsack hanging . . .
Nope, still sexy.
“To what do I owe the honor of you bringing this to my desk and delivering it personally?” He kept his voice low as one of the other executives walked by for a cup of coffee from the break room.
“Read it. Sign it. Don’t speak of it again.” This time I was going to have the last word, so I stomped back to my office and purposefully left the door open to show him that I could do this. I could work in his vicinity without exploding into a lusty ball of . . . lust.