Page 130 of Strictly Business

He shrugs, a small, amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly,” he replies. “I’m promoting you.”

The words don’t quite make sense at first. My brain races, struggling to catch up. “What? But… there’s still a week left.”

“I told you, Amara. No more contracts. No more pretending. No more lies. It’s just you and me now. And this—” He gestures to the papers. “This is me making good on my promise to you.”

I blink, my heart thudding in my chest, unsure of how to respond.

“You’ll have a new position in the New York designer facility,” he continues, “and a raise, of course.”

A breath escapes my lungs, disbelief flooding my mind. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve worked for this moment, fought for it. But my heart clenches at the thought of leaving this role behind. I’ve grown so used to being here with him, sharing this space every day. I glance up at him, a little hesitant.

“So…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I won’t be your assistant anymore?”

“No,” he confirms. “You won’t. I’m in the process of hiring someone new. He’s organized. Smart. Graduated from Harvard.”

“Wow.” I feel a small jolt of jealousy, though I don’t want to admit it. “He sounds great.”

He meets my gaze, his expression sharpening. “Remind me never to introduce you two.”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “You’re such a caveman.”

His gaze softens, and he steps closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m in love,” he corrects, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “And love makes men do strange things.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. “Like what?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls me into his arms, eliciting a gasp out of me when he picks me up and places me on his desk, his breath warm against my ear.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

I let out a laugh. “You promised we wouldn’t have sex in here.”

He hums, smoothing his hand up my thigh. “I also promised myself I wouldn’t fall for you, and yet here we are.” His brow lifts. “You want me to eat your pussy on this desk, honey?”

I should say no. I should hop off and go back to work. Try to keep some semblance of professionalism. But the way his eyes burn into mine, and his hands warm every inch of my skin, has my resolve melting into a puddle in my underwear.

I spread my legs wider, and he breaks out into a grin as he kneels to the ground and grips my thighs in his hands.

“I’m going to miss these office visits,” he grunts against my skin.

I breathe out a laugh. “Is that all you’re going to miss?”

He arches his brow, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “You forget, I’ve been gone for you foryearsbefore I even tasted your lips.” His fingers slip under the hem of my sweater, gently tugging it over my head. “I loved looking into your eyes. Loved seeing you smile. Loved picturing what color sweater you’d wear to work that day.”

My heart thuds harder in my chest. I had no idea he thought that much about me.

His hands cradle my face, his lips brushing mine so softly that I melt into him. “I’m going to missyou, Amara. Not just the sex or the kissing. I’ll miss your damn presence. I hate the thought of not having you right here, a few steps away from me… Of not having to make up reasons to call you in here so I could see you.”

I blink, surprised by the admission. “You really did that?”

He smirks, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “I even debated changing the walls to glass so I could look at you all day… but then again,” he leans in, his voice dropping, “if I had, we couldn’t do this.” He punctuates his sentence by gripping my thighs, spreading them wider on his desk.

I can’t help but laugh, feeling both flustered and turned on by the thought. “You’re insane.”

“Call it whatever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine. “Insane. Obsessed. Out of my mind in love. Doesn’t fucking matter as long as you’re with me.”

My heart swells at his words, but then he steps back, his expression turning serious. “I’m going to miss having you here. You’re irreplaceable, Amara. But I can’t hold you back because of my feelings. I want to see you do what you love. I want to see you succeed.”

My chest tightens, and I find myself smiling, my breath hitching in my throat. My heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest… or maybe it already has. Because my heart no longer belongs to me. It belongs to him. And it’s his to keep.

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