I respected her so much the more for having done it, especially since she’d only been working here for such a short amount of time. It took balls to stand up to your boss the way she had, which was another on the long list of things about Stephanie Donavan I grudgingly admired.
As my secretary, the only thing I should’ve admired about her was her ability to do the job. Unfortunately, regardless of all my promises and vows to maintain a professional relationship with her, the more I got to know her, the more I found I admired her. Was attracted to her. Like a bee to honey and a drunk to a bar.
I thought I could resist it, all the way until my lips crashed down onto hers, and I realized I never stood a chance against how insanely badly I wanted her. The second she put me in place for acting the way I had, I was lost to my desire for her.
And then like a high school boy desperate for some guidance in finding my way back, I showed my appreciation by trying to take her clothes off right then and there. The thing that got me was that she hadn’t tried to stop me. She met every stroke of my tongue with the same fervor and returned every touch as passionately.
In fact, she was in the process of taking off my pants when Neil interrupted us. If he hadn’t shown up, I was pretty sure we would’ve had sex on the very same desk I was now studiously avoiding looking at.
Memories of how she felt winding her hands into my hair flooded my brain. How her lips met mine, soft but firm, unyielding in their pursuit. The way her breasts pushed up against my chest. The sounds of her quiet moans.
Jesus.I had to stop thinking about it. My bad mood gave way to a horny mood from the onslaught of memories, and now I was even more frustrated than I had been five minutes ago. Way to go, jackass.
My head jerked up when I heard a soft rap at the door, looking up to find a cleaner with a vacuum standing there waiting for me. “Excuse me, Mr. Williams. I was told to report to your office immediately.”
“Yes.” I stood up, smoothing my tie. “I need you to get rid of that glass.”
I pointed at the wreckage of the only printed photograph I had of my brother at the office. “I’ll get out of your way.”
I needed to blow off some steam and sitting in my damn office was only making me feel cooped up. After shutting down my computer and grabbing my jacket, I gave my disaster zone of a desk one last look and left before the bad mood could set back in.
The bar down the road was a trendy, after work type place I usually avoided when I wanted to cut loose. I figured I had some time before the crowds from surrounding buildings descended, enough to let a drink or two burn some of the frustration out of my veins.
Barstools lined a long, polished counter, neatly positioned so you would be treated to an unobstructed view of the top shelf liquor up against the wall. Lit up with ice blue and white lights, the alcohol made for a nice focal point—and a brilliant reminder of what people came here for.
With a low scrape of its feet on the gleaming floor, I pulled out one of the stools near a tap mounted on the otherwise clear bar and lowered myself onto it. A bartender was there a minute later, wearing a hospitable smile and a black suit without the jacket.
“What can I get you?”
I jerked my head to the tap, not in the mood to be picky. If it had alcohol in it, I would drink it today. “Whatever’s in the keg feeding into that.”
“You got it.” He turned to grab a glass from the collection of the bar behind him, wiped it with a rag from his back pocket and brought it to the tap. I watched as he tilted it at a slight angle, saw as he pulled down the lever a foam swirled around in the bottom of the glass before the amber beer settled.
The familiar movements of the bartender and the predictability of how foam would form and dissipate helped settle my mind. It was way more familiar territory for me than stuffy boardrooms and tall office prisons. Urg, buildings.
Pretty much everything was more familiar to me than marching to the corporate beat. I reached up to loosen my tie and caught my beer in my palm when the bartender slid it over to me. Ice cold with a nice head on top. Now this is more like it.
I was vaguely aware of someone sliding onto the stool beside me, about to strike up a conversation with the bartender when a scent I knew all too well reached my nostrils. Floral. Sweet. Mid-range perfume she got specially mixed.
My eyes slid to the side to confirm my suspicions. Every muscle in my body tensed when I looked at her just in time to see her hand reaching for my arm, the relaxation I was just starting to feel gone in the same instant.
“Jannie.” Fuck. “What are you doing here?”