Page 49 of Miss Matched

“Do you date?” I ask against better judgment.

Verbal diarrhea, that’s all I can figure, because the words keep falling out, and I can’t seem to stop them. The more Kennedy tries to shut me out, the more curious I am to figure out everything about her.

“Not lately,” she says, standing. She shuffles around a few papers. But her attempt to shut down the conversation piques my curiosity.

“Why not?”

She stops and looks at me, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths, shoulders back in defense. “Guess it’s been a while since I’ve found a guy who’s worth it.”

Worth it.

I want to know everything about what makes a man qualify as worth it for Kennedy. What makes a man bring a woman like Kennedy to her knees. What makes her want, and need, and beg. I want to be that man.

Standing up and moving closer, I stop with the space of the desk between us, quieting the voice in my head that warns me there’s a minefield up ahead. One wrong step and boom! I place my hands on the desk and lean in.

Even in heels, she’s forced to look up at me, blinking from my eyes to my mouth. I wonder if she’s considered what my lips would feel like on hers. If she’s thought about us like I have, with my weight in my hand in the middle of the night. Picturing uneven breaths panting from her heart-shaped lips.

“And that works for you? Not dating?” I ask, leaning closer. “You don’t get any urges?”

It’s a bold question, and I know it. One purposefully crafted to get a reaction, because I love to read the responses that play out on Kennedy’s face. Knowing that, true to her nature, a challenge won’t make her back down.

Planting her hands flat on the table, Kennedy squares off with me. “I don’t need to date to satisfy my urges, Mr. Vincent.”

Fuck.

The words shoot straight to my dick. That might be the hottest thing she’s ever said. The image of Kennedy pleasuring herself, wet, hot, and moaning, pops into my mind. I want to know what name falls from her lips as she comes on her hand.

Kennedy presses forward, and it draws her silky blouse away from her skin, giving me a hint of cleavage. I’d like to yank off everything but that sexy red suit jacket and bend her over this desk to satisfy a few urges of my own. Scale her walls and make her beg for my cock.

Knowing we shouldn’t and both giving in anyway.

Her lips part to say something, but shattering glass from the lobby pulls our attention, followed by tires squealing against pavement.

“What was that?” Kennedy straightens up, trying to dart for the door, but I use my body as a barrier because I don’t know what we’re walking into.

“Careful.” I keep her behind me as we rush from her office. Sam is darting from his, and all eyes move to the source of the sound.

The front window of the lobby is shattered; a large rock sits in the center of the room.

Kennedy dips around me and picks it up, and that’s when I notice a piece of paper wrapped around it. She unties the string, and her fingers tremble as she takes in whatever it says. First, she passes it to Sam, whose face immediately darkens. Then she shoves the paper at me.

WATCH YOUR BACK.

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