Page 303 of Savage Bosses

"After what? This?" Tahani leans across the table, capturing my lips in a heated kiss. My heart races wildly. She is right. We are past professional now.

When we finally break apart, breathless, I know I am in dangerous waters. The taste of her lips has me addicted. I’m lost in her eyes. Those deep brown pools that shine with brilliance, desire and mischief have taken me under.

She traces a finger down my arm. "Show me how you feel, Archer."

That is all the encouragement I need. I take her hand and pull her around to my side of the table and onto my lap. I crush my lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. She responds in kind, tangling her hands in my hair. I slide my hands down her back, pulling her softness against mine. I trail hot kisses down her neck as she gasps in pleasure.

"We shouldn't do all of that...not here..." Tahani manages between ragged breaths.

"Oh, no. You can’t shy away now. You asked me to show you how I feel. I’m going to show you, and I don't care who sees," I growl.

I grip her bottom and kiss her again. Our kisses grow more frantic, fueled by weeks of pent-up passion. In that moment, nothing else matters but having her. I need to feel her, taste her, devour every inch of her. I intend to savor every second of our time like this.

Her lips are soft and full against mine, her body molding into me with a sensual grace. I am lost, drowning in the sweet torment of her kiss. My hands roam urgently over her curves as our tongues dance and tangle.

When we finally break for air, panting and flushed, the enormity of what we've done hits me square in the chest. This amazing woman who challenges and electrifies me has just shared an intimacy beyond anything I've known, and I haven’t been inside her yet.

She gazes at me, eyes shining, lips kiss-swollen, more beautiful than I've ever seen her.

"That was..." I falter, speechless as emotion chokes my words.

"I know," she whispers, fingers trailing down my jaw.

Pursuing this is reckless, but the mind, body, and heart want what they want. And mine want Tahani. I pull Tahani close, drinking in the sweet floral scent of her hair, the velvet warmth of her skin. She nuzzles into me with a contented sigh that solidifies her ownership of me.

We stay pressed together in a private area of the dimly lit lounge with no prying eyes around us, trading lingering glances and subtle touches. A brush of fingers here, a graze of lips there. Each secret moment heightens the thrill.

I don't know where this will lead, but I know one thing: I will never forget the exhilaration of her kisses. Kisses that change everything between us and mark the start of our forbidden romance.

CHAPTER 8

Tahani

BOSS BE DAMNED

A

fter spending years creating Zeenith, another passion rules me. Memories from Friday night in the lounge with Archer stay on my mind all day Saturday and Sunday. A part of me feels like the time we shared never happened or that it shouldn’t have. The last time I kissed a man in a bar, it ended in a one-night stand.

The bright side is that Archer and I didn’t go home together. It showed that he hadn't only wanted sex. I know he’s only in town for a short time, so I understand what we share will not be permanent, but I can’t lie. I was pleasantly surprised when he walked me to my car and kissed me goodnight without any further expectations.

Unexpectantly, my phone pings with a message from Archer, asking me to meet him at a coffee shop for breakfast on Monday morning. I smile and respond affirmatively. Then, I text Contessa because Ihaveto talk to someone. When I tell her that Archer and I kissed, my phone immediately starts ringing.

“Hello.”

“I know I’m reading this text wrong,” she says.

“Well, actually…” I go on to tell her everything about Friday: the software licensing, the celebration, the kiss.

She gasps. “Oh, I’m on the way over with wine and chicken alfredo. I’m coming with the wine but I want all the tea.”

I chuckle. “See you when you get here.”

The doorbell rings an hour later, and she enters my home and sets the food down on the table. She looks relaxed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

“You look like you’re enjoying the jobless life,” I tease as we embrace.

“Speaking of jobs, your boss called me yesterday morning and asked me to come back, and now, I know why,” she implies with a wiggle of her brows. “You put it on him.”

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