Page 144 of The Re-Proposal

A burning desire sweeps the core of my stomach. I’m interested in seeing where she’s going to take this. My hope? It ends with her bent over the table in front of me.

“I told you you were bleeding,” Clarissa says, brandishing a band-aid.

My eyes narrow in suspicion because I have a feeling she didn’t jerk me out of the boardroom just to tend to this little cut.

“It could get infected,” she explains, as if she can read my thoughts. “You can’t let things like this fester. No matter how small.”

She sets the band-aid on my thigh and brings out a tube of antiseptic cream. I lick my lips when she leans over to apply the ointment. Her long, curly ponytail drapes over my shoulder, her generous chest presses into my arm.

My breathing gets a little heavier. I can smell her perfume mixed with the sweet, flowery scent of her hair. She’s everything a man could dream of… in a package no man can resist.

“Does it sting?” Clarissa whispers. Her mouth is right up against my neck.

“No.” I groan. But my pants are tighter than they’ve ever been.

She slides her hand up my thigh to grab the band-aid and a million images burn through my mind. Most of them involve her hand somewhere much more enjoyable.

“Ris.” The words choke my throat when the woman startsblowingon my cut. It’s a tiny, inconsequential scrape, but that puff of breath is so damn soft on my neck that I wish it were a gaping shark bite.

I turn toward her, our noses almost brushing. “What are you doing?”

“Sh.” She grips my chin and turns my head away. Squinting, she firmly rolls the band-aid over the cut on my neck. “I’m concentrating.”

I can’t tell if she’s being serious or if she’s intentionally stirring me up. All I know is, Clarissa Maura has a way of making me burn for carnality. I shouldn’t let myself be swayed this easily, but it seems impossible not to lose my mind.

I want her so freaking bad.

“There.” She springs back as if she can sense that I’m about to grab her and fill every opening of her body with my seed. “Let me throw this away.” Dark fingers rolling the band-aid wrapper, she darts to my table and discards the waste in the trash.

I walk around to the desk, advancing on her until she backs up.

“Spit it out,” I say, pressing my hands on either side of her and caging her in.

“Spit what out?”

“The thing you want from me.”Even if it’s half of my soul, you can have it, Ris.

She tries to back up a step, but she’s trapped between my body and the desk. Her wide eyes tell me she has no idea how dangerously close she is to unlocking the beast inside me.

Don’t worry, princess.

She commands that beast too.

Her chin stretches up bravely. The flirty smile flits across her face again, wobbly but sincere. “What will it take to calm you down?”

I watch as she smooths her hand down my tie, leaving a trail of sparks everywhere she touches. My body burns with the need to sink deep inside her.

I lean forward. Crowd even more of her space.

She doesn’t shift back, but she doesn’t lean forward either. This is not an invitation to kiss her. She’s making a play for a conversation—albeit, one where she wants my brain as cloudy as possible.

“Are you making an offer?” I brush my fingers against her ear and move it down her neck, stopping right at her quickening pulse.

Her breath ragged, she tightens her hold on my tie. “I know what you’re going to do to those men. And I know it’s because of me.”

I stiffen.

She blinks, her eyes too pure and innocent compared to the animalistic hunger I feel.

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