Page 26 of Without Apology

“If you say so. Did you unblock my number?” For some reason it bothered me to no end that she’d done so.

Her lips twitched. “Did you want me to?”

“Yes.” I didn’t elaborate.

“I unblocked you the other night,” she admitted.

“Good.” It was silly, but I suppose I needed to know the connection was available again.

“Emma seems nice.”

I stood up to give her the chair back and, in the process, realized how tight was the space behind her desk. “Only with people she likes. The population is small.”

She moved closer to her chair, making us now mere inches apart. “Guess I should feel lucky. How long have you worked together?”

“Eight years.” I should have scooted past her. She backed up to the wall in order to give me room. But instead I stood rooted to the spot.

“She’s very beautiful.”

My hand moved as though it had its own agenda, cupping her face. “I think of her like a sister. She feels the same.”

“So there’s never been anything between the two of you?” She winced. “Sorry. That wasn’t an appropriate question.”

I answered anyway. “No. Nothing.”

Before I could think about consequences or the fact we were in her office, I closed the small gap between us, my mouth crashing down on hers. Gone was the slow burn from our first kiss, and instead, it was an explosion. As if we’d both been starving for the taste of one another over the last few days. She parted her lips, allowing my tongue access to claim her fully.

My hands moved to her ass, lifting her up while I turned to place her on the desk, scattering paperwork in the process. When I stepped between her thighs, she took the opportunity to wrap her legs around my waist, pulling me into her center. Deepening the kiss, I wanted nothing more than to sink deep inside of her.

But then, suddenly, the vision of fucking her on this desk, in the same office where a multi-million-dollar deal was in the balance, had me panicking. Pulling myself away was a monumental effort. One I forced myself to do.

I put my forehead against hers as both of us fought to control our breathing. I spoke first. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I kind of figured.”

I stepped back, giving her my hand to help her scoot off her desk and then bending down to fetch the scattered papers on the floor. “It can’t happen again.”

When I rose up, I could see temper flickering in her eyes as she straightened out her dress. “Got it. Thanks for dinner, but I think I’ll send this last schedule and get home.”

The prize of biggest arse on the planet now belonged to me. I’d come down here without agenda, but I hadn’t been able to keep my hands off her. “Let me help you straighten the papers.”

I bent down to pick up three more sheets and handed them over.

“I’m good. Just leave it and go, please.”

It pained me to do so, but undoubtedly, she wanted me out.

“At least take your dinner home with you.”

She took her seat, eyes already fixed on her computer and clearly trying to avoid mine. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Peyton, look, I didn’t mean—”

She held up a hand. “You made that very clear. Have a good night, Simon.”

“Good night.”

I was annoyed with the situation and especially with myself. I didn’t lose control. I took it. And I most definitely didn’t break rules. Especially sacred ones such as not kissing a woman I needed to interview.

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