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Checking the time on his wristwatch, Quentin decided to wait for Phoebe in the lounge, but that became a back and forth of loquacious conversation as woman after woman approached him with a sudden weight loss journey they wanted to ensue. Thirty minutes had passed when he decide to take his waiting to her office. He stood and closed a button on his jacket as he strolled through the cubicles, projecting a powerful and dominating authority.

Phoebe’s door was opened, and her face was buried in a mound of papers on her desk. By the creases in her brow, Quentin assumed she didn’t like what she read. He cleared his throat, and Phoebe glanced at the door. Her frown dropped instantly, and a soft soothing smile replaced it.

“Hey,” she said, “come in.”

Quentin stepped in the office, and Phoebe rose from her chair, checking the time. “Are you ready for dinner?” she asked.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” he said.

“Can you have a seat for about five minutes while I close out my system?”

“Of course,” he said, “there’s no rush. As a matter of fact, if you’re not done, finish your task. Waiting in the lobby was becoming a bit overcrowded, so I decided to wait in here.” His sexy eyes moved up and down her completely, and Phoebe blushed and sauntered toward him. When she came close, Quentin reached for her, wrapping his thick arms around her waist. In turn Phoebe’s arms slipped around his muscular shoulders while stuffing her face into his neck.

“Mmmm,” she said, “you smell so good, and you’re so warm. I swear I could nap here and be completely rejuvenated when it’s over.”

“That can be arranged,” his deep voice grooved.

Phoebe giggled and exhaled a deep breath. She turned her face into his skin and kissed his collarbone.

“Lady love, you’re still at work. Wouldn’t want to disturb everyone else with your mid-afternoon fling.”

Phoebe giggled. “I dunno…” she sang, “I’m seriously considering it.”

Quentin pulled back slightly and eyed her with a slant of his lids.

“Don’t play with me, woman.”

Phoebe giggled again and finally drew away. When they disconnected, it was slow and steady as if neither one of them wanted to let go. Quentin’s gaze stayed locked on hers, and a sphere of warmth and electric energy circled them both.

Phoebe strolled around him to shut the door, and the click of the lock specified dangerous intents.

“You know,” Phoebe started, “I’ve got to be careful with you.” Her fingers slipped up her blouse and with three quick flips, the top three buttons came undone. “You have a way of making me unwind that should be against the law.”

Quentin unbuttoned his jacket and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Phoebe leaned her back against the door, with sultry eyes cast low. A growing smile registered across her lips, and with a finger she drew circles around her swelling cleavage. Quentin’s tongue chased his teeth, and in a prowl, he walked up on her, placing a hand on either side of her head. Quentin covered Phoebe with his extensive frame, dipping his head down to hover right above her face. The smell of Phoebe’s feminine fragrance made his libido go crazy. She had made it increasingly difficult for him not to stuff his face into her breasts and lick up her soft skin to her face. An animalistic rumble crept from his throat, and his pupils seemed to change colors going from light to dark.

Quentin licked his lips. “I don’t think you really want to do this here,” he said as his dread locks fell against his shoulders. Phoebe went to respond when Quentin pushed his mouth against her lips in a shush.

“Mmmm,” she moaned and promptly heat combed over them both. Speaking into his mouth, Phoebe purred, “Your actions discredit your words, Mr. Davidson.” Phoebe slipped her hands up the wool of his shirt, and her fingers sank into the flesh of his neck.

A knock at the door disturbed their sensual moment, but not before Quentin kissed her lips one last time for good measure. Phoebe was caught between a gasp when his lips suffused into hers, and she held on to his neck as the kiss deepened. The knock came again, and with reluctance, Quentin pulled away from her and crossed the room to the windows.

Phoebe readjusted herself and swiped the corners of her lips just in case her lipstick was a bit messy. Turning around, she opened the door with a hand on her hip. “Yes,” she said, staring up at Christian.

“I wanted to turn in the information I was able to come across before you leave,” Christian said. “Are you leaving anytime soon?” Christian’s eyes flew over to Quentin who stood with his back to them, looking at the same skyscrapers Jordan had earlier.

“Yes, I’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes. Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.” Christian turned to leave before deciding to say whatever was on his mind. “Hey, is that Quentin Davidson, the fitness spokesperson?”

“It is,” Phoebe said, amused that the young intern’s voice took on a hero-like fascination.

His mouth dropped, and his eyes stretched in surprise.

“How could you tell from the back of his head?” Phoebe questioned.

“I thought I saw him walking through, but I wear glasses, so I couldn’t be sure.”

Phoebe chuckled. “Have a nice day, Christian.”

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