Page 24 of Grumpy Alien Boss

"Your cover identity can weather this storm. Better than risking exposure by acting against them."

"This discussion isn't over," I say into the phone.

"Yes, it is. Stand down, Rook. That's an order."

The line goes dead. I set the phone down harder than necessary.

Pyke's orders burn in my gut. The man plays everything too safe. But orders are orders, even when they chafe against my warrior's instincts.

The door swings open, and my dark mood evaporates. Olivia saunters in, her lips curved in that knowing smile that drives me wild. The tailored black skirt hugs her hips, and those stockings make her legs look endless.

"Someone's in a good mood. Land that Mitchell account?"

"Maybe." She perches on the corner of my desk, crossing those magnificent legs. The hem of her skirt rides up just enough to torment.

I lock eyes with her and slide my hands up her thighs, pushing them apart. The glimpse of lace stockings and garters makes my pulse race.

Her legs snap shut, trapping my fingers between them. That defiant little grin of hers sets my blood on fire.

I force her thighs apart again, this time keeping my palms pressed firmly against them. She's not getting away that easily.

"Feeling bratty today?"

Her grin widens. "Maybe."

"When we first made love three weeks ago, I had no idea we would be doing so at least once a day, every day."

The words come out rougher than intended. My human form's throat tightens at the memory of that first time - her surrender, her passion.

"Someone should have warned you about Earth women. Especially redheaded ones."

Her scent fills my nostrils - jasmine and desire. The beast inside me stirs, wanting to claim her again. I reach for her waist, intent on pulling her into my lap.

But she's too quick. She twists away with a dancer's grace, leaving me grasping air as she leaps off the desk. The loss of contact burns.

"Take off your clothes. Come here." The command rumbles from deep in my chest.

"Make me." Her pink tongue darts out in defiance.

My gaze drifts to the stack of contracts awaiting my signature. Reports that need review. The quarterly projections...

To hell with it. Some things are more important than paperwork.

I push back from my desk, my chair scraping against the floor. The sound makes her jump, but her eyes darken with anticipation.

I lunge, faster than she expects, and grab her wrist before she can dodge again. Her squeal of delight sends a jolt straight to my groin. In one smooth motion, I spin her around and pin her down on the leather sofa, her wrists trapped in my grip above her head. She struggles, but it’s all for show—her breathing’s already quickening, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

“That’s twice today you’ve challenged me,” I growl, leaning in close enough to feel her breath hitch. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Olivia.”

Her grin is all defiance. “Or maybe I’m just enjoying the way you react when I push your buttons.”

I don’t waste time on a retort. My free hand makes quick work of the buttons on her blouse, popping them open one by one. The fabric falls away, revealing the delicate lace of her bra. My fingers trace the curve of her breast, feeling the way her nipple hardens under my touch. She arches into my hand, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“You’re terrible at playing hard to get,” I murmur, dragging my thumb across the lace.

“Who says I’m playing?” Her voice trembles, but her eyes are full of fire. “I’m just... testing your patience.”

“Testing it, huh?” I lower my mouth to her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. She shivers, her squirming becoming less about escape and more about the tension building inside her. “Careful. You might not like the results.”

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