I tried not to be jealous. Calloway didn’t seem like the kind of man to sleep with an assistant.
“Hi.” I walked up to her, feeling self-conscious once I was face-to-face with the pretty blonde. With perfectly flawless skin and blue eyes like Calloway, she was beautiful. “I have a meeting with Mr. Owens in fifteen minutes.”
She looked up at me, showing the kind of smile a model wore. It was disingenuous but perfect, displaying her straight teeth and a dimple in each cheek. Her blonde hair was so shiny the fluorescent lights glared off the top of her head. “Of course.” Her fingers hit the keyboard until she found the right information. “Here you are.” She turned back to me once she confirmed the appointment. “Take a seat, and he’ll be with you shortly.”
“Thanks.” I sat down and crossed my ankles, feeling my heart pound when it shouldn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was nervous for the interview or just being alone with him. Last night, he took me from behind and wrapped my hair around his fist, controlling me like he was a cowboy and I was the horse. He came inside me so many times that I couldn’t walk to the bathroom without dripping his seed everywhere.
The memory brought searing heat to my cheeks.
Excitement bubbled inside me, and I was suddenly eager to see him. I loved seeing him in a suit, his shoulders broad and powerful and his waist narrow and tight. His chin was usually sprinkled with a five o’clock shadow, rough to the touch when his face was pressed between my legs. Those eyes were the best, so scorching and intense.
I automatically squeezed my thighs together.
The large black door opened, and Calloway stepped out, looking perfect in his crisp, gray suit. One hand was in his pocket, and his eyes were trained on my face like a target. He didn’t smile with his mouth, but his eyes hinted at silent affection. “Ms. Moretti.” He waited for me at the door, professional and borderline indifferent. But I knew it was all just an act.
I grabbed my purse and walked past him, aware of the scent of his cologne. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, tense from the heat in the air. I could practically hear the snap and pop of an invisible fire.
Calloway shut the door and blanketed us in complete privacy. He walked up to me, giving me no time to admire his office or the view. His face was close to mine, and he stared at my lips like they were his property.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the nerves get to me. I’d been seeing him for four months, but he still had this effect on me—the ability to make me squirm with need. I wanted to press my hands to his chest and feel that warmth and strength. Before I met him, I was so innocent. But now, all I could think about was moving our bodies together, making love that was so hot and sweaty I couldn’t think afterward. That physical connection brought me to a new realm of existence. Spiritually connected, I felt something real with him. The sex was just an expression of those feelings—of desperation, affection, and so much more.
I knew what would happen if I didn’t take control of the situation. My skirt would be above my waist, and I’d be getting fucked for the entire interview. It wouldn’t be an interview at all. “Tell me more about the position.” I walked around him and sat in the leather chair facing his desk. His desk was black like the bookshelves on the wall. His masculine tastes were obvious, looking similar to his home. The only brightness in his office came from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He approached the front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his ankles and his arms. The corner of his mouth was raised in a smile, amused by my obvious attempt to keep things professional between us. “You have more strength than I do.” He tapped the surface of the wood. “You’d be on your knees right now if I didn’t respect you so much.”
A thrill ran down my spine, hitting me right between the legs. I pulled out my notebook along with a pen. After my thumb clicked the top, I pressed the tip to the paper. “If we’re gonna work together, everything needs to be platonic between us at the office.” I didn’t want any of my colleagues to assume I only got the job because I was screwing Calloway. I wanted to be judged based on my own merits, not what I did with the boss. “We’ll only be here eight hours a day. The rest of the time is ours.”
“But if I have to watch you walk around the office—” He tilted his head as he examined my crossed legs. “Looking like that all day long, I’m gonna have a few slipups.”