The thought of him protecting her instead of me has my whole body tightening up in an unreasonable rage. What if he'd walked her home? What if she'd been grateful for his protection? What if he made a move while she was feeling particularly vulnerable? What if she'd invited him up to her place? All the questions circling my mind put me in a dangerous place, and I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down before she shows up at my door.

It's eleven-thirty in the morning, but I have no doubt she'll show up early. Not only is she a punctual individual, she's excited when it comes to discussing her work. It's one of the things I absolutely love about her, the way she lights up when she's thinking about how to bring a room from bad to beautiful.

There's a knock at my door and I walk over to pull it open. I catch sight of Everly looking overheated and sweaty, and I can’t help but speak up. “Did you take the stairs?”

She nods, too out of breath to answer.

I guide her into my penthouse and toward the kitchen to get her a cold bottle of water out of the fridge. I offer her the drink and she takes it with a grateful smile, cracking it open and taking a deep drink. When she finally twists the cap back on, she speaks to me, still out of breath. “You weren't kidding when you said it's a lot of stairs.” She says the words with a smile, and I can't help but chuckle.

I can’t take my eyes off her. If this is the way Everly looks after physical activity, I only want to take her more. She’s glowing, red-cheeked, and out of breath, a sheen across her brow and her hair sticking to her damp skin.

“I was not kidding. Would you like to take a shower?”

As soon as I say the words, I realize I made a mistake as an offended look crosses her expression, but her lips curve at the corners. “Are you saying I stink?”

“Not at all. I'm just not comfortable when I'm warm and sweaty, and I imagine you aren't either. I apologize if that's an incorrect assumption.” I keep my tone aloof and she laughs, the soft sound, making my body stand at attention. I want her so damn bad, maybe I should be the one taking a shower - a cold shower.

“No, you're right, I can take a quick shower.”

I nod my head and guide her back toward my bedroom. “The primary bath is the nicest in the house,” I explain as we move through my penthouse. “Help yourself to whatever you need.” I keep the bathroom fully stocked for those times when I bring home company. “I'll be out in the living room.”

She gives me a nod, studying the space with her mouth, with her lips slightly parted and I wonder if she even heard me.

Fifteen minutes later, she rejoins me with damp hair, and I find myself hard again after all the work I did to talk myself down - no small feat when thinking about the fact that she’s naked in my shower.

“Well, it’s official, I don't think there's a room in this house besides the office that I don't like.” She says the words with a smile and it's all I can do not to kiss her.

Thankfully, she doesn't seem to notice my hesitation as she claps her hands together and speaks. “I'm ready to get started if you are. Thank you for being patient.” With that, she pulls her tablet out of the bag she’d taken into the bathroom with her and sits down next to me.

She pulls up a program on the device and walks me through the recommended changes for showing me the room as it is, then showing me her plans. I'm particularly taken in by a light fixture, a huge overhead light consisting of black, long narrow rectangle bars that stack on one another in a fanning shape.

Similar long narrow rectangle bars adorn the walls of the office in her design, casting light all throughout the room. She'd chosen a very simple white with black trim look that both compliments my love of light spaces and adds a subtle contrast that leaves the room feeling professional, balanced, and elegant.

If she told me she was going with black and white, I would have immediately assumed that I wouldn't like the space. Now, looking at all of it put together, I can't imagine a space I'd prefer to have.

“What do you think?” She's staring at me expectantly, a hint of fear in her eyes, and I realize that my silence is being mistaken for dislike.

“It's absolutely incredible. How did you do that?” It's almost as if she read my mind, but it's more impressive than that; I didn't know what I wanted, but she managed to give me exactly what I needed but couldn't articulate. Even the artwork she'd chosen is strangely provocative and suggestive, but not overtly sexual. The lines, the tone, the lights, the theme, everything is reminiscent of Club Red while being completely different.

She'd managed to figure out how to evoke the exact emotion I was going for in a room without making things too flashy or not to my taste. “I gave you an impossible order and you managed to nail it better than I ever could have imagined.”

The smile on her face grows and her cheeks go red. “Oh, stop it. This is my job. I've had much more difficult requests than yours.” There's something so sexy about the way she's blushing furiously, and I can't help myself.

I lean in and press my lips to hers. She exhales through her nose, and I feel her start to fall backward on the couch, but I instinctively grab the front of her shirt, my fist balling the material as I hold her in place. She lets out a soft sound between a squeak and a whimper, and I swallow the noise. Before I know what I'm doing, I move off the edge of the couch, grab her body, and flip her face down. With her bent over the couch like this, she's perfectly in position for me. All I'd have to do is lift her skirt, pull her panties to the side, move my pants out of the way and bury myself inside her.

My hand moves for her skirt and she lets out a yelp of surprise as my other hand finds her ponytail and grips it tightly. I lift the material, bearing her sexy panties and lean in, burying my face in her sweetness as my tongue finds her clit through the thin material barrier.

“Stop.”

She says the word with so much force that my whole body reacts. I pull away from her, let go of her hair, pull her skirt down her wrist, and rock back on my heels, the blood finally getting back to my brain as I realize what I've done.

She turns to face me, her expression stunned as she struggles to pull in a deep breath. We stare at one another as I try to figure out what just happened and where things went wrong. What the fuck was I thinking?

“I apologize, that was unacceptable.” I have to internally remind myself that her body giving me permission is not the same as her mouth giving me permission. I need to wait for her invitation, not just take her body language for permission.

“I'm not upset, but we can't do that again.” As those words leave her lips, I suddenly realize she feels the exact same magnetic pull that I do.

I nod my head. “Understood.” With that, I stand up and take a seat in the armchair across from her. “I love your concept and design; you have the green light to go ahead.”