Page 53 of Without Apology

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Simon

I was a nervous fucking wreck.

Never.

Never had I experienced this feeling before. Probably because if it had been me in those interviews, I would’ve owned them. I didn’t do nervous. But sending Peyton out the door by herself had flayed me. I wanted to go with her. Wanted to sit at her side—and what? Defend her? Hold her hand? Tell them how amazing she was? Reiterate it would be stupid not to promote her into this role?

None of it would’ve been helpful. Not only would she be pissed and take it as a slight that I didn’t believe she could do it herself, but also it would expose emotions far greater than I was willing to admit at this point.

She’d asked why I’d brought her here to my flat. I couldn’t answer. Because I didn’t have one. All I knew was I wanted her under my care and with me. As I recalled the vision of her in my bed earlier, in her black thong, T-shirt riding up her creamy white skin, I got hard all over again. I craved her. Wanted her like I’d never wanted a woman. Not having her was causing me to go mad. Although not as crazy as picturing how the interviews were proceeding without actually having a clue.

I paced my living room. Then I tried to distract myself with work but gave up at half past four. She should’ve been back by now. But maybe they’d been late getting started. You didn’t always know with the board members. I put my hands behind my head and simply stared out the window over the city. It would be getting dark soon. I wanted her home.

Where had that thought come from? Just as I started to analyze it, there was a knock on the door. My strides had me crossing the room in two seconds. Then I pulled the door open to reveal her standing there smiling.

“Hi.”

She stole my breath. Not only was she stunning, but also I felt such a tremendous relief to have her here with me. The sensation had me on edge.

“Can I come in? Cuz if not, it’s awkward, and maybe you could pass me my suitcase at least.”

My lips twitched in amusement, and I opened the door for her to walk inside. “Sorry. I was getting worried.”

She flipped up a calf at a time to take off her heels once I’d closed the door again. “Were you now?”

“How did it go?”

She appeared surprisingly relaxed. “Good. At least I think so. I mean, at least from my end. Mr. Wilson in the second interview was tough. But I think I answered his questions fairly well. Tom showed up, by the way.”

“What?”

“Greased-back, doing a good impression of Christian Bale from American psycho, pretentious prick—you know Tom.”

This was news. It was also annoying. “What the hell was he doing there?”

She shrugged. “Have no clue. He was shocked to see me, then said he didn’t think I flew. Jeff must’ve told him. He mentioned outside candidates were being brought in. You do understand he doesn’t want me to get this job, right?”

I winced, thinking I probably should’ve prepared her for news of the outside candidates and also for Tom’s dislike. But she surprised me.

“I told him good. If it’s not me, I hope they get someone qualified enough that I’d stay and my staff would be safe. You know?”

“You’re amazing.”

She set down her purse next to my living room chair, and I found I liked it in my space. Liked knowing she was coming back here to me.

“I could’ve completely screwed it up. Guess we’ll see?”

I pulled her in, unable to fight the urge to touch her any longer. “They’d be fools not to hire you.” I don’t think I’d ever uttered those words in my life. I’d always been able to separate personal from professional, yet here I was welcoming the clash.

“Maybe. I remember you said that after the interview you’d tell me why I was here in your place rather than my own hotel room.”

I didn’t answer, choosing instead to take her lips. I’d meant to be gentle and teasing. Instead, it was as if a powder keg ignited the moment her tongue touched mine. I backed her into the nearest vertical surface, deepening the kiss.

We were teeth, tongue, and lips, both frantic in our movements. I couldn’t not have her. She reciprocated the urgency, her hands running under my T-shirt and then tugging it up until I practically tore it from me to give her more access to my skin.

“Jesus,” she whimpered, stroking her palms over the hard planes of my chest muscles and down to my abs.

---