Page 9 of One Rule

“Is that what bothers you?” I cock my head to the side while placing my near-empty cup down. On the outside, I appear calm, yet inside it’s a turbulent wave—two opposing emotions rattling my cage. She is a nuisance, and he is my weakness. “Are you upset that Mr. Royce prefers my abilities to your lacking ones?”

“Yet I get the praise.”

“Do you really? Or is that what you tell yourself?” It takes everything in me to keep my expression neutral, but I do, no matter how close I am to my limit. Moreover, the closer he gets, the harder it becomes to fight against the havoc each Italian-shoed step creates in me. My core clenches at nothing and my clit throbs, needing something I’ve yet to discover while Beverly glares at me.

Because his effect is a living, breathing pulse inside of me. An electrical current that comes to life when the man I love is near, or worse, when the first hint of his scent infiltrates my senses like it is right now.

He’s a note of citrus with a touch of bourbon on a warm night.

He’s smoky and earthy and everything that sets my skin ablaze.

“Please.” The scoff drips with disdain. Arrogance. “We all know you got this job because your brother—”

“Finish that sentence, Ms. Mills. I dare you.” Micah's deep timbre is calm as he steps just inside my office, yet the tinge of ire is unmistakable. It’s hypnotic, really. His anger permeates the air surrounding him while his sharp jaw clenches and those azure eyes darken the moment they set on mine.

A gaze that softens for a brief moment as it skates along my skin, from my temple to my lips and then lower, to the top of my blouse before retaking my stare. For me, it feels as though his fingers have traced a map along my skin, yet I know better…

Micah doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend.

He’s simply protective of those he cares about.

Will that ever not sting?

And while he stands there like a god among men leaning against my doorframe, I exhale slowly while taking him in. From his impeccably cut Dior suit in a charcoal tone, tailor-made to fit his six foot four frame, to his white dress shirt sans tie with the first two buttons undone—the man is sinful. There’s also a small pocket square that I recognize and my heart flutters, loving the touch of me on him.

I bought this one for him last Christmas from a local designer that I’m a fan of; a constellation-themed silk handkerchief in black and white with his initials in the right bottom corner. My lips tug a bit at the sight but I remain outwardly calm while pleasure fills me.

Lower, and I find his tattoos peeking out from the cuffs. The stark nautical artwork is beautiful and a piece I’m envious of as he clenches his fist against his right thigh. Thighs that are encased in slim-cut trousers; they mold and enhance, and I swallow hard at the large bulge that’s ever-present.

My entire being reacts. Warms. Yet with as much aloofness as I can muster, I flick my eyes to my now-cool mug and grab it, ignoring them while willing my heart to relax.

I take a few small sips, wishing I could get up and make a new coffee. Regroup far from him.

Dear Lord. Can you please help a girl out?

“Mr. Royce, I’m—” Beverly gasps, spinning around to face him, but that’s as far as she gets.

His head shakes and a single finger is held up, gaze still on me. Can feel the weight of it. “Is this how she always speaks to you, Liliana?” She bristles at that, something he also notices as his eyes switch from her to me. Just as I do to them. Can’t help but take a look. My attention pings back and forth as the atmosphere inside my office becomes almost unbearable beneath the tension. His brows furrow and his jaw ticks, a rigidness that doesn’t sit well with me, and all I want to do is run my fingers across Micah’s skin—smooth out the strain there. “Do you have a problem with my question? Or is it Ms. Armas you dislike? Explain yourself.”

Beverly relaxes her stance and smiles softly, trying to appear demure. “Mr. Royce, you’ve misunderstood me. Liliana and I work very well together—”

“You shouldn’t be around her at all.” Stepping fully into the room, he comes around my desk and stands to my right. It’s a position that shows loyalty to me and I’m both aroused and surprised, the latter of which because we keep our ties outside of the office just that…outside.

Here, I’m an employee. I’m not someone who’s had dinner with his mom and dad or celebrated holidays together as our families tend to do. Even after my parents divorced, it never changed. Our interactions have always been the same: close and panty-destroying.

“Mr. Royce, I don’t understand…” she trails off, eyes shifting and pleading with me for help. How? I have no clue. Not that I’m inclined to either way, especially after her attitude just a short while ago. “My relationship with Lili—”

“Why does someone who works in my IT department have to help you with anything outside of malfunctioning equipment or security issues?” Micah places a hand on my shoulder and gives a short squeeze, causing a shiver to run through me. Not that he calls me out on it. Instead, I’m greeted by the tap of two fingers over the same spot and a low hum I find utterly sexy. “I’m waiting for your explanation.”

“She’s gracious and helps—”

“I know she is. More than she should be.” Micah’s tone comes out cold. Biting, almost. But more than that, his interjection causes my head to snap in his direction, finding him already looking at me. There’s a knowing look in place. A raised brow to match the challenging expression.He knows.“Did you really think I wasn’t aware of Liliana organizing my schedule? That my office doesn’t have cameras?”

Micah holds me captive for a few more seconds until satisfied, and then deems her worthy of attention. His question is biting—tinged with anger—while the color drains from her face. While I bite my bottom lip, not knowing how to feel about any of this.

Every time I’m in his office, I run my fingers across his things. I sit in his chair with my eyes closed while taking in his intoxicating scent, a unique pheromone that fills every square inch of that room.

I’ve whimpered with need; one I don’t satiate as I’ve been saving myself for him.

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