Page 71 of Perfect Order
“We’re going to be in the same location in just a few days,” I point out logically.
Her breath rushes out. “Yes.”
My voice drops to a growl. “Aren’t you even slightly curious?”
She edges closer. I capture a glimpse of the side of her breast in its flimsy covering beneath her oversized shirt. Our eyes clash before she whispers, “About what? You? Us?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Liar.” I mouth the word.
Her lips curve in a purely feminine smile before she reaches up and slowly pulls the pens from her hair. Long strands of blonde cascade over her shoulders. “Am I?”
The screen goes black, causing me to howl my frustration out loud. I storm over to the window, hoping the cooler air from the overhead vent might calm me down. I inhale and exhale, trying to regain some control, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Hoping for a distraction—I can hope Beckett robbed a bank or something equally inane—I slide it from my pants. I frown when I find a text from an unknown number with an image. I open it cautiously.
And promptly drop my phone on the plush carpet. Bending down, I hope I don’t snap off any critical body parts because they’re as hard as granite.
The shot shows Leanne’s shed her shorts and propped her legs on either side of her keyboard. The shirt she’s wearing is mostly open, displaying her perfectly flat stomach. And, more importantly, the hand shifting beneath the scrap of nothing protecting her from my vision. “Sweet Christ,” I moan, my hand reaching down to grip my dick through my pants.
That’s when I hear her voice come at me from the computer. “Not fair. I want to see.”
I clench the phone in my hand, not turning around to see what my body’s craving. “Are we really doing this?”
“I’m not a liar, Kane, so I’ll give you this. I’ve wanted you since the first moment we touched all those years ago.”
My head bows under the sweet honesty of her words. I curse my acute hearing as the material of her clothing slides against her skin. Skin I can’t touch, but I can demand she touch. Get dizzy by the way she looks when she falls over the edge.
Because of me.
“Be certain, Leanne. Because there’s no stopping once we start,” I say with my back still to her.
Her response is to lock the door and begin lowering the security shields. I bark out a laugh. “That’s one way to respond.”
“So’s this.” I look over my shoulder just in time to find her standing and slowly beginning to unbutton her shirt.
“Stop!” I command as I stalk over to the computer. I’m breathing heavily, and I’ve walked four feet instead of running the usual five miles I put in each day. Christ, this woman has me twisted in knots and I’ve barely spoken a word, I muse ruefully.
An uncertain look crosses her face. Her hand slides to the right, and I reprimand her, “Stop moving, Crash. I just want you to slow down. I want to savor this. You.”
“Us,” she whispers.
“What we can have of us,” I agree. “Sit down.”
She immediately plops back down in her chair. I gently question, “Have you ever done this before?”
And it’s like a dam bursts. “No! At first I thought it would be easy. I mean, I think about you enough when I…I mean…” And that’s when the most delicious blush begins at her open collar and spreads upward.
A small smile plays about my mouth. “You’re not the only one.”
Her eyebrows skyrocket. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” I kick my long legs back up on the desk and begin palming my cock through my slacks, keeping my eyes on her the entire time. Her breasts move up and down with the force of her breath. “Stand up, Crash.”
Like she’s in a trance, she does. “Unbutton your shirt. Do it slowly. Pretend it’s my hands on you.”
“I want my hands on you, Kane,” she throws back.
