Page 7 of Defensive Hero

I walk to his door and knock, turning the knob when he doesn’t respond. I walk in and close the door behind me, turning to face my boss, but I stop dead in my tracks. Wilson is seated behind his massive desk, leaning back against in his leather chair with his eyes shut, and no, he is not asleep.

He looks…tired. His always perfectly combed back hair is mussed a little, and there are stress lines around his eyes. His hard expression seems stripped down, and watching him like this almost feels invasive, but before I can sneak back out, his voice stops me.

“What is it, Miss Beck?” His eyes are still closed, which makes me wonder how he knows it’s me.

“I…I’m clocking out. I was wondering if I could order dinner for you.”

“That’s not part of your job description.”

Well, someone is in a mood. “I like to think part of my job is making sure you’re taken care of,” I say boldly, and that has him opening his cobalt eyes, and when they meet mine, I visibly shudder. They have the same effect they did the first time I met the man but not quite. In recent days, his gaze has been doing things to me.

Weird thing to my body.

There are moments where I feel a little weak in the knees or short of breath, but the achy feeling between my legs is whatconfuses me the most. With his eyes locked on mine, the feeling is back, and I have to shuffle my legs in an attempt to seek relief but find none.

“What do you mean, ‘taken care of?’”

Uh, what the hell is he talking about?Oh, right.

“Well, sir, it could be argued that taking care of your health would be in my best interest. I can’t work if I don’t have a boss, now, can I?”

Wilson raises a brow at me, as if he can’t figure me out, which is a better reaction than I was expecting. He simply shakes his head and leans back against the leather chair. “You should head home, Miss Beck.”

Right, this is my cue to leave. I have done my best, and now, my conscience can be clear.

And yet, I don’t leave. I stand rooted to the floor, staring at my feet, when really, I should be making my way out of the office. He’s given me an out. I should take it, but something about seeing the hardened man drop the blank mask I was so convinced was his actual face bothers me for some reason.

“Miss Beck?”

“Sir?” My gaze shoots up to find those icy blue eyes narrowed to slits.

“You are still here.”

I don’t know why I can’t make myself leave and… Is that a warning in his tone? Christ, I don’t know what it was I caught in his voice just now, but whatever it was sends excitement rocking my chest.

“I…um…”

“You should leave.”

This time, I his voice is hard, and the ice in his blue eyes has been replaced with heat. Even the threat carried in his voice isn’t enough to unstick my feet from the floor. I’m not scared of him, but...maybe I should be.

He looks so big and menacing seated behind the massive desk, but it’s nothing compared to the power he gives off when he rises to his feet. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt are folded neatly at his forearms, and my eyes trail those massive arms and up to his broad shoulders.

Good Lord, he is big, and with his muscles pushing at the seams of his form-fitting clothes, I can only imagine how he looks with the shirt stripped off. My gaze drops to his the pronounced bulge at his zipper, and I quickly look away when I realize where my eyes have wandered to, heat climbing up my cheeks.

“Do you enjoy it?” Wilson asks, his voice way closer than it was earlier, so I look up to find him standing only two steps away from me, his jaw clenched and hands tucked in his pockets. “Do you enjoy testing my limits to see just how far I’ll let you go?”

I blink at him in confusion. “Sir?”

He takes a step forward, and then another until he is so close I can smell his expensive aftershave. Closer than he and I have been before, and oh…there is that achy feeling between my legs once more. Insistent this time.

“What do you think you are doing, Sandy?” he says, tracing those blue eyes over my breasts, and I watch with fascination as his jaw hardens, the hard mask slowly slipping. His face shows more emotion in this moment than he has in the few days I have been working here and…

I want more.

Something inside of me wants to see behind this man’s hard, impenetrable shell. I wonder if he’ll show me.

“Sandy!”

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