Play with Me

Feeling shell-shocked, I accept the letter and confirm the details. For a moment, I just stare at it. In the next, emotions ranging from anger to embarrassment to utter fury explode inside me and I push to my feet. “Can you excuse me for a few minutes? I need to take care of one small detail before I accept.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. How long—”

I turn, already exiting her office, my steps long and sure, my temper barely contained. The ride in the elevator is eternal, but I find plenty to fill the space. Damion doesn’t want to fix things for me. He wants to cover his butt and fix things for him. Well, he’s about to find out that I am not some puppy dog he can order under a table. He gave me a job. I’m not going to be one of who knows how many PR reps in a giant cubicle room. I could have had that in Texas.

By the time I exit the elevator onto the executive floor, I am two notches hotter and about to explode. Dana’s eyes light up when she sees me, but I don’t stop walking to greet her. “Is he in his office?”

“Yes,” she calls behind me.

Entering the lobby area, I find Damion’s door open and I charge right in. Terrance is seated across from him and, twisting in his chair, takes one look at me and has the sense to stand up. He murmurs something to Damion I can’t hear and then moves toward me.

“Kali,” he says, with a nod at my approach.

“What happened to ‘Ms. Miller’?”

If I intend to throw him for a loop by referencing his formality the day before, it does not work. “Apparently,” he replies, “she hasn’t had her coffee,” and smartly keeps walking, pulling the door shut behind him.

Damion arches his brow. “Problem, Ms. Miller?”

“Yes,” I say, closing the distance between us and rounding the desk. He rolls his chair around to face me, and damn him for looking like sin itself in his black suit and a pale-green tie that matches his eyes. Eyes he has focused on me, not on the letter, as I smack it down on the desk and add, “This is the problem. My transfer with the condolence raise meant to make cubicle hell survivable.”

“You’re mad about a raise?”

“You made an employee a conquest, and you’re shoving me under a rug to try to cover your own ass.” And it hurts. I hate that it hurts. I hate all the old feelings it stirs and how I can almost hear my father’s voice in my head saying horrible things to me. “You shouldn’t have wasted my time to cover your own ass.” I try to move away.

He rolls farther toward me and cages me so that I’m against the desk, his hands on either side of me. “First, you are not a conquest. Not even close. I work seventy hours a week, and the last thing on my mind is a notch on my bedpost, and the last thing I do is mix business with pleasure. I take my work too seriously for that. Second, what happened between us happened after you quit. If I was trying to make what happened between us go away, I would have let you walk away.”

He’s right. He could have let me go. “Then why didn’t you?”

“I told you, my gut feelings are everything. And everything inside me told me to go after you, even though logic said I was treading on dangerous ground. I still want you, Kali. I want to lick you. I want to touch you. I want to set you on the desk, rip your panties off, and fuck you. But that can’t happen when you’re my employee. And that means you being in another department is a smart move for both of us.”

Heat spreads through me at his graphic words, burning me inside out, slicking my thighs, but confusion and anger burn in me, too. He is sending confusing messages. He wants me. He can’t have me. I can’t have him. “So you are making a business decision.”

“Yes. I’m trying to give you a place where you feel your job has no relationship with me.”

“And you are not tempted to cross any more lines.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

It’s also exactly what I didn’t want to hear. “So because you still want me, I get a job, and you get to have the job you want.”

His hands go to my waist. “No. You aren’t running.”

“I am not running. Stop saying that. You don’t even know me.”

“That’s the point. I want to know you, Kali. We need to talk this through. I sincerely thought you’d be happier in the press department.”

“No, I will not be happier. You would have found that out had you asked me.”

He sighs. “You couldn’t even say the word ‘secretary’ yesterday.”

“Because I was in shock after losing my dream job. I’m over it. I’m ready to work, but I risked everything when I left Texas to get away from a bullpen-style room filled with eager reporters. I’m not going back to that. If I can’t do what I envisioned I could do, I want to be where there is opportunity and I can build a future. Where I feel like I have an identity and my skills can make a difference.”

“And you think working with me will do that?”

“Don’t you?”

His fingers flex on my hips, and for a moment his thumbs stroke back and forth. “Okay, Kali. Ms. Miller.” He rolls his chair back and his hands fall away from me. “You’re staying with me.”