* * *
Owen’s busy when I knock on his office door five minutes later. He motions for me to enter and lets me know he’ll only be a moment. He then goes back to talking in hushed tones with Julian.
He takes longer than a moment, so I sit on his couch to wait for him. Once I’m settled, I glance back up to watch him and find his eyes on me.
His hungry eyes.
Oh, thank God.
He’s not going to fire me.
Well, not unless he fucks me first and then fires me. But that would be a dick move, and I’m convinced Owen isn’t a dick.
I spend the next ten minutes checking out his office from where I’m sitting. It’s the largest office I’ve ever seen, and the most masculine. Lots of browns and leather. My eyes are drawn to the table we sat at the other day. It’s a large round dark wooden table that could seat eight.
That table was made for fucking.
A man could spread a woman out on it and take everything he wanted.
I’m lost in an amazing sex fantasy when the door to Owen’s office closes. My gaze snaps to it, and I find Owen shutting the blinds.
Julian has left.
We’re alone.
I squeeze my legs together.
Hard.
He turns and stalks my way, desire blazing from him.
With a flick of his wrist, he indicates for me to stand. His arm easily snakes around my waist once I’ve followed his directive. And his hand slides down my ass to grip it.
“You slipped out last night before I had a chance to come back to you.” His deep voice does so many good things to me that I’m instantly bewildered.
I grasp his biceps. “You were busy, and I needed to escape my mother. And by the way, you should just keep talking. Unless of course you’re going to fire me, in which case you should definite
ly stop talking and—”
He silences me with a kiss. It takes me completely by surprise, and I’m a swooning mess, kissing him with everything I have. Our lips, tongues, and hands move with a frantic rush of need, and when we end the kiss, I stare up at him even more bewildered.
“I seriously thought you were going to fire me.”
“And I’ve seriously been waiting here for hours for you to get in. Firing you is the last thing on my mind, Charlize, but you picked a hell of a morning to be late.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
He looks at my dress before meeting my gaze again. Reaching for the hem, he says, “Negotiations begin now. This dress is not acceptable.”
I cock my head to the side. “It’s not acceptable for work?”
His hands run up my legs to my panties, and I bite my lip at his touch. “It’s not acceptable for anything. It barely covers your ass.”
“It definitely covers my ass, Owen, and more.” The dress hits me just below midthigh. He’s being ridiculous.
Bending his face to my ear, he growls, “Are you going to argue with me or are you going to let me finger fuck you?”
I want to scream yes.