Page 33 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

It takes a moment as I try to get my bearings, but I become all too aware of his body pressed against mine and his lips mere inches away. Knowing that if I think about it, I might change my mind, I close my eyes and lean forward, pressing my lips to his.

I sense hesitation at first, but it is quickly replaced with a shockingly, intense response from Michael, who grabs the back of my neck and takes over the kiss. My back presses against the cold steel of the car, and the warmth from Michael’slips, contrasting with the steel’s coldness, creates a profound sensation in me.

Then he pulls away from me.

“We should go,” he says sternly.

The intoxication in my brain clears at that, and I stare in confusion as he leaves me to deal with the door myself, going to the driver’s side.

Quietly, I open the door and get in. He doesn’t say anything as we leave, but in my head, there are a thousand questions.

Chapter 10

Savannah

Irun my index finger over my lower lip idly as my brain dabbles in thoughts that have nothing to do with work.

“Something on your mind?” Clarissa asks.

Shaking my head, I try to refocus on the task at hand. I open a new document and begin typing, taking points from what I have on paper in front of me.

But I soon lose concentration as my mind conveniently returns to where it was two nights ago. The moment I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against Michael’s, and the shock when he kissed me back.

I groan, running my fingers through my hair.

Why did I do that?

First off, I shouldn’t have been drinking. Secondly, I shouldn’t have been drinking with my boss and the attorney in charge of my case, who is also someone I’m not sure I even like.

Then…what the hell was I thinking? That I could just do what I wanted at that moment because he looked so good and smelled sofuckingnice?

“This is why you don’t go out, Savannah,” I mutter. “You end up making a mess of things.”

“Something the matter?”

I shake my head again without looking at Clarissa. I know she will keep asking questions, but the only way to keep from spilling beans—because I seriously need to tell someone—is if I don’t look at her.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to pull your hair out and have to show up wearing a wig. I mean, I’m not saying you wouldn’t look good in a wig.”

“I’m fine, Clar,” I say, not having enough strength to say her full name.

I’ve screwed things up. Can I face him again after what I did?

I mean…he did kiss me back, right? So maybe that absolves me of half the blame?

I wave my hands in front of my face, trying to clear the thought clouds. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Clarissa shake her head. She probably thinks I have lost my mind.

Nothing has gone right since I first met Michael, it’s been a tiring couple of weeks indeed.

“Maybe it’s karma for the way I acted?” I mutter.

Clarissa gets up.

“I need to see to something. I’ll be back. Or I might not,” she gives me a secretive smile, “we’ll see.”

I nod absently, only taking note of her departure when the door closes. As soon as it does, I get up from my chair and head to the small board that is in every office, but nobody uses.

Picking up the dry-erase marker, I write down two names: Michael Stone. Brandon Portman. Two men who are currently at the epicenter of my life.

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