Page 57 of Worth the Risk

“I’m sorry.”

“So.” Her head tilts. “You didn’t mean it, then?”

She looks up at me, her breasts almost pressed against me.

“Maybe I didn’t,” I say through a nervous chuckle, “but for now”—I wink and wrap my arm around her shoulders again—“let’s get back to being friends.”

It wasn’t Monday’s spin class, not even watching Taylor’s tits bounce in my mind in slow motion on repeat.

It wasn’t even the tense seconds we were alone in the elevator or hallway of the office.

But what really surprised me was that it wasn’t even the hot yoga class I barely survived with her. Between her heavy breathing in some very erotic poses with sweat dripping from her body and the deep stretching we did afterward, I thought for sure I’d cave and invite her back to my place.

But I didn’t.

Even when I noticed her watching me peel my shirt from my body after class or the way she let me rub her neck when we walked back to her place.

It was today… Just a normal day in the office that finally broke me.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Taylor glances around my office, her bag on her arm, keys in her hand. “What’s all this?”

I look up from the papers surrounding my feet on the floor. “Just trying to find an error.”

“An error?” She steps through the doorway, letting her bag and keys fall onto a chair.

“Yeah, I told Gary I’d do an audit of his sister’s finances and I know she’s being ripped off. I’m just trying to find the source.”

She doesn’t think twice and picks up a stack of the papers and starts going through where I’ve made annotations and highlights.

“Well, it has to be here somewhere, right?”

“You’re not staying. Go home.” I try to insist she not waste her night but it’s no use. “There’s no rush on this anyway. I’m just killing time.”

“It’ll be like old times, us working late.” She smiles briefly but turns her attention back to the report. “Besides, what the hell else am I going to do on a weekday night?”

“Grab a drink with Becca? Have a social life.” I start listing things off, tossing out an idea to see if it piques her interest. “Go on a date?”

She looks up from the paper, trying to assess if I’m serious or not. When I don’t smile or make an accompanying joke, she shrugs. “Maybe. I guess I should put some effort into downloading a dating app.”

“Oh yeah? Got a type in mind for the next guy?” I keep my tone casual as I sort through my own stack of reports, like we’re talking about the weather.

She tilts her head dramatically as if she’s thinking. “Hmm, good question. I’m thinking a guy who doesn’t know boundaries.” My head snaps up and she flashes me a grin.

“Interesting. You like that kind of guy?” My focus drifts back to the reports.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, but I tend to attract them. You know, the type that likes to take what he wants without even considering the consequences of his actions.”

“I know the type.” I chuckle. “I prefer to think of those guys as passionate. They aren’t afraid to take control, really show someone what they’re missing, show them how to relax and get the giant stick out of their ass.”

She scoffs, our flirty banter quickly starting to turn into passive-aggressive territory. “The guy I’m thinking of wouldn’t be concerned about what’s up my ass because he wouldn’t be into that sort of thing.”

“Ha!” I drop my hands to my sides. “Every man who has ever wanted to fuck you or thought about fucking you is into that sort of thing.”

“I highly doubt?—”

“Every. Single. One,” I interrupt her, both of us now looking at each other.

“Including you?”

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