Relentless (Mason Family 4)

The contact is light, a dusting of skin against skin. It should not feel like an electrical shock to my overworked senses, but it does.

I look down at her as she clamps her hand around my wrist.

Her pupils are dilated, filled with a plethora of emotions that I can’t begin to sort. I just stand completely frozen and beg myself not to react.

Let her take control.

“What if …” She swallows. “But what if putting my needs first means that I really want to kiss you again?”

Oh. Fuck.

My brain misfires, unsure if I’ve heard her correctly or if it’s a case of hearing what I want to hear. Sparks shoot through my veins, heat balling in my stomach, and all rationale and gut instincts that suggest otherwise are buried in a pool of desire.

Her grip grows tighter as she gives my arm a gentle, hesitant tug.

“Oh, Shaye,” I almost growl as I turn toward her.

“Kiss me, Oliver. Even though we shouldn’t—”

My mouth crashes against hers before she can complete the thought, swallowing all the reasons we shouldn’t.

I turn her in a circle so her back is against my desk and cage her in with both hands.

She doesn’t fight, doesn’t object—just parts her lips to allow my tongue entry.

My blood runs hot as I taste her. My body screams as I feel the softness of her lips. My brain loses control of the situation as I process how much she wants me.

A chill races down my spine as she reaches up and touches my face. Her fingertips press into my cheeks as she kisses me back.

I flick the stapler away from behind her with the back of my hand. It crashes against the floor with a clatter. My hands find her waist, and I hoist her up to sit on the edge of the wood.

“Oliver,” she whispers as I dot kisses across her jaw. Her head falls back, and she moans, leaning into the kisses I plant down her neck.

Her hands dance across my shoulders, skim down my sides, and slip under my blazer.

I grip her legs and spread them for me. She yelps with surprise but doesn’t argue. My palms sit heavily on her thighs, feeling her soft, muscled legs under my touch.

I’m going to burst. I can’t make sense of this anymore.

My fingers trail up the inside of her legs as I kiss her again. Just before they reach the apex of her thighs, my phone buzzes.

Shaye pulls back, her eyes wide, and gasps.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She tries to push me away, but I kiss her again, and she relents.

“Shh,” I say, peering into her eyes. “Everything is fine.”

“Are you sure?”

I reach over and press the speakerphone. My eyes never leave Shaye’s. “Yes, Kelly?”

“Yes, Mr. Mason. I have Greg on the line for you.”

“Tell him that I’ll call him back in five minutes, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hit the button again, ending the call.

“Oliver …” Shaye’s cheeks redden. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I smirk. “Me either, but I like it.”

She smiles but bats at my arm. I step back, and she slips off my desk.

“Is this going to work?” she asks, straightening her dress.

“Is what going to work?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid. “This. You and me. This job. All of it. I feel like I’m just digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole, and I’m supposed to be climbing out of it.”

I give her some space and walk behind my desk. I pick up the stapler.

“I’ll agree that we need to get ahold of the situation,” I say, trying to forget the way her lips feel against mine before I grab her and kiss her again. Before I pull up her skirt and watch my fingers enter her heat like they desperately want to do. “What does that mean? I don’t know. But we can’t just go on and pretend we don’t want that to happen when we’re together.”

She considers this as she combs her fingers through her hair. “So what’s the solution? Do I have to go work for Wade?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

She grins.

I run a hand down my face. How can I salvage all of this?

“What would make you feel better?” I ask.

She thinks for a moment. “I need to know that I can trust you.”

“You can.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Except that my word is the most important thing to me,” I say. “If we can’t figure this out, you can go work for Wade. And I assure you that he’d love nothing more than to have you in his office and deny me entry. It would make his fucking year.”

She laughs. “Okay. Also … I don’t know what you’re thinking or expecting or hoping, if anything, but I just don’t want anything serious.”

“You just want to be fuck buddies? Is that what you’re telling me?” I ask, laughing too.