Beautiful Bastard (Beautiful Bastard 1)

“I mean close the door, but stay.”

Oh.

Oh.

I turned, walking across the plush carpet in complete silence. His office door closed with a heavy click.

“Lock it.”

I turned the lock and felt him move closer until his breath fanned warm across the back of my neck.

“Let me touch you. Let me do something.”

He understood. He knew what he could give me—distraction, relief, pleasure in the face of surging panic. I didn’t reply because I knew I didn’t need to. I’d closed and locked the door after all.

But then I felt his lips, soft and pressing against my shoulder, up my neck. “You smell . . . amazing,” he said, untying my dress where it fastened behind my neck. “I always smell like you for hours afterward.”

He didn’t add whether that was a good thing or a bad thing and I found that I didn’t care. I liked that he smelled me even when I’d gone.

With his hands sliding to my hips, he turned me to face him and bent to kiss me in a single, smooth movement. This was different. His mouth was soft, almost asking. There was nothing tentative about the kiss—there was never anything tentative about him—but this kiss almost felt more adoring and less like a battle being lost.

He pushed my dress from my shoulders and it pooled at my feet as he stepped back, giving just enough room to let the cool air of his office wash his heat from my skin.

“You’re beautiful.”

Before I could process the soft delivery of these new words he threw me a smirk and leaned to kiss me as he grabbed my panties, twisted and ripped them.

This, we knew.

I reached for his pants but he stepped away, shaking his head. He moved his hand between my legs, found smooth, wet skin. His breath grew faster on my cheek and his fingers were somehow careful and hard, his words coming out deep, filthy, telling me I was beautiful, I was so dirty. Telling me I was a tease, and how good I made him feel.

He told me how much he craved the way I sound when I come.

And even when I did, gasping and clutching his shoulders through his suit, all I could think was that I wanted to touch him too. That I wanted to hear him get lost in me the same way. And it terrified me.

He withdrew his fingers, sweeping across my sensitive clit when he did, and eliciting an involuntary shudder.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered in response, kissing my jaw, my chin, my—

“Don’t.” I said, turning my mouth away from his. The sudden intimacy he offered, on top of everything else today, was too bewildering, too much.

His forehead rested against mine for a few beats before he nodded, once. It wrecked me, suddenly, realizing that I’d always assumed he held the power and I held none, but in this moment I knew that I could have as much power over him as I wanted. I just had to be brave enough to take it.

“I’ll be leaving town this weekend. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Well, then get back to work while you’re here, Miss Mills.”

Eleven

When Thursday morning dawned, I knew we needed to have some sort of discussion. I would be away from the office all day Friday, so today was our last day together before she left town. She’d been meeting with her advisor all morning, and I felt myself getting more and more anxious about . . . everything. I was pretty sure the interaction in my office the day before revealed to us both that she was slowly taking more and more of me. I wanted to be with her almost all of the time, and not just naked and wild. I just wanted to be near her, and my own need for self-preservation had been plaguing me all week.

What had she said? I don’t want to want this. This isn’t good for me. Only when Mina discovered us had I truly understood what Chloe meant. I’d hated my desire for her because it was the first time in my life I was unable to push something out of my head and focus on work, but no one—not even my family—would really blame me for being attracted to Chloe. In contrast, she would forever be tainted with the reputation of being the woman who slept her way to the top. For someone as brilliant and driven as she was, that association would be a constant—and painful—thorn in her side.

She was right to put distance between us. This pull we felt when we were together was entirely unhealthy. Nothing good could come from it, and I decided once again to use our time apart to regain my focus. When I entered my office after lunch I was surprised to find her seated at her desk busily working on the computer.

“I didn’t know you would be in this afternoon,” I said, trying to keep any emotion from my voice.

“Yes, I had some last-minute arrangements to handle for San Diego, and I still needed to discuss my absence with you,” she said, never looking up from her computer monitor.

“Would you like to step into my office, then?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I think we can handle this out here.” Peeking up at me with a sly look she motioned to the chair opposite her. “Would you like to have a seat, Mr. Ryan?”

Ahhh, home-court advantage. I sat down across from her.

“I know you’ll be out tomorrow, so there’s no reason for me to be here. I realize you don’t like having an assistant, but I’ve arranged for you to have a temp while I’m gone for two weeks, and I’ve already given Sara a detailed list of your schedule and the things you’ll need. I doubt there will be any problems, but just in case, she’s promised to keep an eye on you.” She raised a brow in challenge and I rolled my eyes in return.

She continued, “You have my numbers, including the number of my father’s home in Bismarck, if you need anything.” She began going through a list in front of her, and I noticed how cool and efficient she was. It’s not that I wasn’t already aware of these things, but somehow it seemed a bit more apparent to me right now. Our eyes met and she continued, “I’ll get into California a few hours before you, so I’ll just plan on picking you up at the airport.”