“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, racing past the redhead. I kept my eyes straight ahead, my heart racing with dread as I neared the end of the hall. Stopping in front of Mr. Maslow’s double doors, I realized I had no way of opening them without putting one of the coffees down. Groaning in frustration, I readjusted them so that one was pinned between my arm and side, giving me a free hand to push open the door.
I stumbled into the office, nearly losing my balance in my haste.
“You’re late, Ms. Rivers,” Mr. Maslow growled from his desk. He was sifting through files, his eyes lowered. He didn’t look up at me as I neared, which was probably a good thing since his mere gaze stripped me of my senses.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I stopped to get you a coffee, and—”
The heel of my shoe suddenly snapped, and I lost my balance. I crashed to the floor. The coffee in my hand flung from my grasp, but the cup clutched between my arm and side exploded onto me.
“Hot!” I shrieked, wiping frantically at my side and plucking my clothes to try and keep them from touching my body.
“Ms. Rivers!” Mr. Maslow came bolting around his desk and dropped down on the floor next to me. Without a word, he grabbed my shirt and ripped it open. Buttons went flying as he forced the soaked material off my shoulders and flung it away from me. “Don’t move,” he ordered in a low voice.
Pushing to his feet, he rushed to a liquor service behind his desk and grabbed the ice bucket and a towel. Returning to me, he dumped ice into the towel, wrapped it up, and pressed it into my side, where the worst of the burning
radiated. I flinched at the sudden cold of the ice, but soon released a ragged breath as the pain begin to fade.
He held the cool towel against me with one hand, and his other rested on the floor next to my head so he was leaning over me. “Are you all right?” he demanded.
“I-I think so,” I murmured.
Pulling the towel away, he glanced down, his black eyebrows drawing together as he examined my flesh. “I think I got it off you in time. The burn doesn’t look serious, but you should still go to the emergency room to get it checked out.”
His icy blue eyes moved from my side across my torso and lingered on my chest. It was in that moment that I remembered that I was shirtless, with only a scrap of pink lace shielding my breasts. In my panic, it had hardly registered that he’d ripped my blouse from me. He didn’t move his gaze for several moments, and I felt a different kind of heat begin to ripple through me. One that settled between my thighs.
His eyes were dark as he stared down at me. Hungry.
“Mr. Maslow?” I rasped.
“Given the circumstances, I’ll let you off with a warning for being late today, Ms. Rivers,” he said in a low tone that made my breath heavier and my pussy clench with desire. “If it happens again, however, you’ll be punished.”
His words didn’t sound like a threat. They sounded like a promise. And with the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t sure it would be merely a dock in my pay.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, suddenly no longer embarrassed to be half-naked beneath him. Maybe it was the shock of what had just happened, or maybe some of the pain was clouding my mind and skewing my judgment, but I wanted his hungry eyes to look their fill. His big hands to strip the rest of my clothes away. Whatever the reason, one thing was certain: Dmitry Maslow made me want.
And I could see clearly that he wanted something, too.
He ran his eyes along my torso one more time before pushing to his feet. Reaching down a hand, he helped me stand. When I kicked off my other shoe, I realized that he was at least a foot taller than me.
“I’ll send someone out to fetch you a new shirt and some shoes, and then you’ll go to the hospital.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a clear command.
Licking my lips, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes flared as his Adam’s apple dropped. “In the meantime, hold that towel against you and sit over there.” He jabbed a finger to a leather couch resting beneath his shelves of awards.
Nodding, I moved to obey, but his fingers gently closed around my upper arm.
“What do you say, Ms. Rivers?”
I met his gaze, and there was a challenge in their blue depths. I could see what he wanted from me, and it wasn’t an apology or gratefulness. It was obedience and surrender.
My heart raced when I realized that, despite what I had told Khloe, I wanted to give him both.
Parting my lips, I murmured the two words I knew he desired. The ones I’d already been saying without thought, because they felt so natural with this man.
“Yes, sir.”
His fingers tightened for a moment before he released me again.