“Go away,” he says to whoever is on the other side of the door.
“I should go.” I try to slip past him, but he grabs my hand.
“I’m taking you home,” he reminds me before releasing me. I open the door to see Connor standing there. “We’ll have lunch in my office,” he says next. Connor’s eyes widen, and he turns to leave.
I turn around to face Warren. “You should have lunch with your girlfriend.” Such a sleaze. I hate how good that kiss was. My lips are still tingling. Along with a few other things.
“Who?” He can’t even remember the woman’s name he was with last night. Typical.
“The blonde.” I roll my eyes before heading for my desk.
This is a mess. At least I’m not in the torture basement, I suppose. Not yet anyway.
Chapter Eight
Warren
The taste of her floors me. I’m no longer Warren Holmes, real estate magnate. I’m the rubble that’s left over after a building has been demolished. I need to take her to my home and lock her in the basement, although I don’t know if I’m doing that for my protection or hers. Hers. Definitely hers. She’s a threat to herself walking around looking sexy and tasting like sin.
I slam a hand on my desk. That’s what we should be doing. In this period of uncertainty about employee safety, we can’t have people coming to the office. We need to work from home.
“Connor!” I bark into the intercom. “Tell everyone to go home and work remotely because of the safety hazards.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Except for the temp girl. I need five more copies of the K file.” I use the descriptor instead of her name so that Connor doesn’t realize what is happening. I need to keep him in the dark until I get her name on the dotted line—of the marriage contract, that is. That’s the only legal way I can tie her to me.
“The K file? That’s going to take her all day.”
“I’ll have security send someone up to sit in the office until she’s done and walk her to the car.”
“Fine. I’m not going to argue because I love remote working. Byeeeeee!”
I distract myself by doing some day trading for an hour. After making a few hundred thousand, I shut my computer off and check out the office. It’s empty, and all I hear is the whirring of the copy machine. I rub my hands together until I realize I must look like a comic book villain. I clear my throat and shove my hands in my pockets.
“You almost done there?”
“No.” She doesn’t look up. Irritation radiates off her like a protective shield. I guess she doesn’t like copying.
“You’ll have to finish tomorrow.” It’s not like I need it.
“Where’s security?” She still does not make eye contact. The top of the copier must be damned interesting.
I stroll over to get a closer look but see nothing except the feeder tray sucking papers into the rollers.
“I’m security.”
She stiffens and clenches her jaw. “Is this about the tires? Because if you have something you want to say to me, just say it.”
I should’ve known she was smart enough to read through my remote working ploy. Fine. No more games. “I want you.”
“To what?”
She wants me to be specific? I can do that, but I’m not telling the top of her head how I plan to sink my dick into her pussy. I reach across the machine and tilt her chin up until her eyes are forced to meet mine.
“I want you to take off all your clothes, spread your legs and let me tongue fuck you until you’ve drenched my face with your cum. I want you to get on all fours while I pound you from behind. I want you to sit on my dick and ride me so hard, I have burns on my thighs.”
Her jaw drops in shock and might’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for my finger propping her chin up.
The silence is awkward, so I make a snap decision. “Time to go home.” I walk over to her desk and gather her purse and jacket. “Come on. First we eat.”
“And then what?”
“I think we both know what I want to be act two.”
She shifts from one foot to another while I impatiently wait for her decision. “Are we going to your place?”
My cock could not get harder.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
It’s nearly impossible to keep my hands off of her, but if I touch her, I know I’ll end up taking her on the dirty floor of an elevator or under the increased CCTV surveillance in the parking lot.
She deserves better than that.
“What do you want to eat?” I ask when we reach my car.
“I’m good with whatever you pick.”
“Italian then. You’ll need the carbs.”
“For what?”
I press down on the gas pedal. “For what do you think?”