Fuck It (Yama Yama)

Ice slithers in my veins. Roman hasn’t mentioned hearing any rumors, but Tommy made it sound like the show we put on has traveled around the entire office.

“Speaking of my brother, why are you kissing me again and confusing me worse, when we both know you won’t—”

He kisses me again, cutting me off. His hands slide down my body to grab my hips, until he’s grinding against me once more. He groans before abruptly jerking away from me, and that sting of rejection hurts all over again.

As he scrubs his face with his hand and leans against my wall, I angrily jerk my skirt back down then slide off my desk.

“I can’t be in the same room with you without touching you,” he says, confusing me while I try to smooth my hair back into place. “That fucking meeting was terrible, because I just wanted it over so I could touch you. Then I remembered I still couldn’t touch you.”

He curses, pushing away from the wall, and comes to stand behind one of my guest chairs, keeping it between us like a barrier while his eyes burn into mine.

“You were always off limits, and I tried to not notice you when we were in school. I forced myself to pretend you weren’t my type, even when you would berate Roman in French and turn me on.”

I’m not sure why I’m blushing.

“Or in German,” he adds, grinning. “Then school ended. College came, and I didn’t have to see you very much anymore. It was a motherfucking reprieve.”

I swallow harshly. I always thought he was sexy, but we never talked. Ever. And though I noticed him from the sidelines, all his cheating sort of made him…not tempting.

That’s a lie. I was still tempted. Partially why I hated him.

“Then he sent you here,” he says on a sigh. “I thought it’d be easy. You’d never once acted interested in me. But that heat in your eyes when I walked into a room…that look like you wanted to kill me and fuck me at the same time…”

He lets his words trail off as he arches an eyebrow at me like he’s daring me to say otherwise.

“So what does this mean? You kiss me, regret it, then lecture me on why this can’t happen daily?”

He shifts around the chair, coming to stand in front of me again, and tilts my head back with a finger under my chin. His eyes pierce mine, and I can see he’s actually struggling.

“No. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it’s clear I can’t be the good guy I need to be and leave it alone. I also don’t want to ruin my friendship with your brother if it turns out to be just a fling. So we keep it quiet until there’s something to tell.”

My stomach flips. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

I glance over at my desk, taking in the few things in our way. We could totally—

“And I’m not fucking you the first time in the office,” he goes on.

I turn around to see his eyes sparking with humor like he just saw inside my mind. He bends, brushing his lips against mine once more, and I sigh as I lean against him.

“Why are we doing this?” I murmur against his lips. “You don’t want to upset my brother, and I don’t want to date my boss.”

He tugs my head back, using my hair as a hold, and his eyes find mine with nothing but seriousness there. “I can’t say why you are doing this. I’m doing this because I can’t stop myself. You’ve been in my head for too fucking long, but now that I know you want me, I can’t seem to be a good guy and walk the hell away.”

His fingers toy with my hair while his hold gentles, and he stares at my lips for a second. “Everything about you fucking fascinates me, even the way you play music to keep the angry tears in check. Hell, the fact you cry when you’re angry fascinates me too. The way you talk to yourself without realizing it. The passionate way you do everything has me wondering what it’d be like if we were together. If you’d be just as passionate about us.”

My heart thuds against my chest, and my breaths grow a little harsher. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that answer.

“And,” he goes on, his thumb brushing my bottom lip as his attention stays fixed there, “there’s so much about you I still want to learn. From the reason why your forehead crinkles when you see the color yellow to the meaning behind the bobblehead doll you have in your otherwise elegant office.” His eyes meet mine. “I just want to know you.”

Well then. My panties are officially drenched. Lovely.