Page 61 of Take It Offline

Yes, dammit.

“All right, answer me this,” Charlie says, walking around to perch on my desk again. His pants (powder blue flannel, perfectly tailored, no belt required) tighten around his thighs, completely stealing my train of thought.

I’ve had to restart a paragraph from scratch three times today because the man leans so attractively.

I meet his gaze. Strong, unwavering eye contact that sizzles under my skin.

Charlie has a way of looking at me as though he can read my darkest secrets.

“You liked what we did last time, even though you got frustrated.”

My heart lodges itself in my throat. “Is that a question?”

He smiles, the plush curve of his wildly seductive mouth detonating a series of explosions somewhere south of my ribs. I must be spending too much time around him. His playfulness is catching.

“You enjoyed yourself, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Nothing you would have changed?”

I pretend to think about it, adding an exaggerated hum. “The ending, I think.”

He arches his brow. “Is that an attitude I’m hearing, Miss Conway?”

I flush so fast I twist my face away from him, but there’s nowhere to hide. It’s like being sixteen again.

When I do recover and turn back to him, he’s still smiling.

“So,” he says. “I’m curious. What’s the difference between getting yourself off while you’re alone and doing it while I watch?”

Is it possible to spontaneously combust? Because my body temperature has rocketed to such an extreme that I’m close to finding out.

“This isn’t exactly appropriate for the office,” I say, even though we’re the only ones here.

“Come on, we can argue about work anytime. I’m interested.”

“What a strange and unusual state for you to be in,” I tease.

“I know you’ve already thought about it.”

Dammit. He knows me too well. After I finished the job, so to speak, I lay awake and replayed it all, searching for a clue.

And if we’re going to try again, he should know.

“I couldn’t stop worrying about it. Everything felt good. The way you were touching me, and your mouth…” It was like being worshipped. “All I could think was, will it happen?” Ducking my head and focusing on the worn spots of the keyboard, I force myself to share what scared me most. “Is he going to get annoyed when it doesn’t? How long until he gets bored and leaves?”

“Emma, look at me.”

Without waiting for me to obey, he pulls my chair closer, between his knees, until my arm brushes his pantleg.

“If it never happens, that’s okay. And I’m definitely not going to get bored. This isn’t about you performing for me. I only want to make you feel good. Any man who wouldn’t, doesn’t deserve to be there in the first place.”

I lean in to pluck a long, white hair from his jacket. It’s strange to see him even a little disheveled. “Mohair?” I ask.

“Husky.” With a wry smile, he elaborates. “The shelter had an emergency visitor last night, so Reese asked me to take Dug for her. It could have gone better.” He brushes a few more hairs off his arm. “When he was first brought in, he wouldn’t let anyone near him, just cowered in the corner, nose down. The assholes who dropped him off hadn’t fed him in god knows how long. He’s healthy now, but we’re trying to help him acclimate to new places. Thought it would be easier at mine because he knows me, but he woke up every hour or so just to make sure I was still there.”

Oh god.

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