Page 19 of His to Keep
“Yup,” I manage. “I’m fine.”
“Hmm.” He rubs his nose over the skin just under my ear and I can’t suppress the full body shudder that shakes through me. “As much as I enjoy the view of you straining like this, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
He reaches over my head, without lessening the contact between us in any way, and begins to pull down the tray of mugs.
“Thank you,” I whisper, starting to feel light headed. He’s so close. The realization that we’re at work—and behaving very inappropriately—echoes vaguely in my head but I’m having trouble caring. Not when he feels so good. So strong and solid and warm, towering behind me.
Again, his nose finds the skin below my ear. “Thank you what?” he rasps out.
“Uh...Thank you Mr. Davis?”
He tsks softly. “Try again.”
I know what he wants me to say. Hell, I want to scream it. Every submissive bone in my body is telling me to call him what he is to me.Sir.
Just then there’s a rumble of voices in the conference room behind us and all of a sudden, that vague voice in my head is a hell of a lot louder. We’re at work. Anyone could walk in at any moment and I’m standing here with my boss’s hardness pressed against my ass, my panties shamefully damp after just a few brief moments of contact.
“Luke,” I say, voice more firm. “Someone could see.”
“Ask me if I give a damn,” he growls in my ear, tilting his hips a fraction so I can better feel his impressive erection.
God, I want so badly to give in. I’m struck with the most insane desire to drop to my knees and take that perfect cock out of his pants.
Get your shit together,I tell myself. I take a deep breath and press back with my shoulder, hoping to get him to retreat. “You promised,” I remind him. “You promised no complications.”
He groans softly but then the pressure on my back eases as he steps away. “I apologize,” he says, his voice much less rough. There’s still a dark note underneath the polished tone, like he has to try hard to adopt a professional veneer. “Seeing you like that…Your position pulled your skirt up a bit…” he clears his throat. “I got carried away.”
I breathe in deep, wondering why in the hell I’m filled with disappointment when he did exactly what I asked. I try to make my voice bright and natural, as if he hadn’t just made my clit thrum madly with a mere touch to my skin. “Wesley said this is an important meeting?”
“Yes. Quite important. It’s good you’re here to help.”
I finally work up the courage to turn around and face him. The sight is enough to take my breath away. He looks so ridiculously gorgeous standing there in his suit. Everything from the cut to the perfect fit to the fabric indicates that it’s expensive as hell. It probably costs more than my rent—for several months. Yet beyond the polish of his clothes, there’s an air of roughness about him. Maybe it’s the beard. Or something in his eyes that speaks of hard work and brute physical ability. The contrast he presents makes my heart flutter. I find myself wondering if he came from money. I get the feeling he’s no stranger to fighting his way to the top.
I have to struggle to keep my voice neutral. “Wesley asked me to get the refreshments together. Is there anything else you need?”
His eyes darken just a fraction as his gaze flicks down my body. Good lord, those eyes make me feel like he’s remembering what I look like under my neat, modest work clothes.
However, his clipped tone and his words are the opposite of sexual. “I’d like you to sit in on the meeting.”
I blink at him. “I thought Wesley is taking notes.”
Luke nods. “He is.”
My forehead creases with confusion. “Then what do you need me to do?”
Again his gaze goes up and down my body, his eyes even darker. “You can provide entertainment.”
“What?” I yelp, then slap a hand over my mouth when the buzz of voices outside quiets momentarily. “What are you talking about?” I hiss, my mind spinning with images of the circumstances under which we met—me standing naked on a stage, entertainment for a room full of men and women.
Luke raises his hands, expression placating—though I’m pretty sure that flash in his eyes is amused. “I misspoke. You can provide refreshments.”
I gesture at the cart. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
He shrugs. “It will be a long meeting. People may need refills.”
I gape at him. “You want me to sit in on this high-level meeting in case someone needs a fresh coffee?”
His gaze is steady on mine. “Yes.” An eyebrow goes up. “You’re not planning to disobey my request, are you?”
