Page 9 of Broken Boss

Her eyes dart over my shoulder to where Marty is inevitably watching. There are still eyes on me, on us, but I don’t care. I’d let everyone watch if it meant I got to be close to her.

“Um…wasn’t that your lunch?”

Autumn’s tone is dry, annoyed. A corner of my mouth lifts.

So she is jealous.

“No,” I lie, feeling no remorse about leaving the risotto in Marty’s hands. She can pour it all over her naked body for all I care; I only have eyes for Autumn.

Her green eyes dart to the side and the legal aides cough and shuffle and go back to their desks. Autumn crosses her arms.

“Can I help you with something?”

It’s an echo of the question she asked me a week ago, when I caught a tantalizing glimpse of her in Grant’s old office…

“Have lunch with me.”

A few heads turn, conversations ending in shocked stutters. I get it, this isn’t something I do.

Ever.

Confusion flits across Autumn’s face, but she masks it quickly. A habit that makes her a good lawyer. My smile only widens to a wolfish grin.

“If I’m not mistaken, Marty was offering you lunch.”

She makes it sound like a dirty word and my cock twitches with interest. Gaze dropping to her plump lips, I wonder what other dirty words I could make her cry out.

My voice drops, aware of our audience, as I answer, “Marty just wants to fuck her way up the ladder. I’m not interested.”

Autumn’s brows knit as her gaze runs over me appraisingly. I’m not completely clueless. I know she doesn’t trust me, has some preexisting dislike for me, for some reason. Whenever she spies me on the floor, I see that little sneer she can’t hide.

I want to know what I did to make her dislike me. I want to fix it; I want to beg at her feet if that’s what it takes.

I want to make her beg.

“No.”

Autumn turns and walks away.

Following her, I’m only dimly aware this isn’t a good look for the firm. Their leader wandering around after an attractive woman, wounded and half in love.

Half? the little voice in my head taunts.

“Autumn—”

She turns quickly. I barely pull to a stop, the distance between us minuscule.

That scent is back again. Vanilla with a hint of something floral…

Something warm…

I want to bury myself in her. Let my senses soak her in.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice is hard, unforgiving. It’s like a slap in the face.

It brings me back to myself.

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