He didn’t say anything back.
We’d been working together for three months, and that allowed me to read him better than most people could. I picked up on the subtle cues of his body language, even the various intensity levels of his eyes. But right now, I was staring at a blank wall. “Derek?”
He dropped his arms and slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. His shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, and all the veins in his arms showed just how tight his skin was over the bulging muscles. He took a step closer, one hand moving to the back of his neck to give it a quick massage. His eyes dropped for a moment, like he didn’t want to have this conversation even though he was the one who had asked for my presence.
Now, I was really scared. Maybe he did want to fire me. What could I have done to make him decide that? I attended to every need, knew exactly what he wanted before he even wanted it. On top of that, we were so close. In that moment, I realized he was my closest friend outside of my family. My desire for this man had never gone away. I just locked it up in an indestructible safe, but all I had to do was open the door and it would come bursting out. So if he did fire me, that meant I would have to let him go…and I didn’t want to do that.
He raised his head once more and looked at me, dropping his arm to his side. He stepped closer to me, closing the gap between us until we were face-to-face. I wore a pair of heels, so we were almost eye level with each other. He only had to tilt his chin slightly downward to meet my look.
I forgot to breathe for a few seconds.
Only he could handle a moment as intense as this in pure silence. Other people rambled on when they were nervous, but he never got nervous, so he could handle the energy in the air and breathe it into his lungs over and over. After staring at me for a full minute, he moved in closer, and his hands made contact with my hips.
I inhaled a deep breath at his touch, feeling the goose bumps form down my arms and legs, feeling the weakness in my knees at his touch. Now his face was close to mine, his gaze giving me a level of intimacy that was far above friendship.
Now I knew why I was there.
He maintained his hold for a few seconds, his eyes studying my reaction. When I relaxed in his embrace, his hands left my hips and glided across my back. His fingers slid into the deep curve of my spine, and he gripped the fabric of my dress tightly. His other hand snaked farther up my spine as he came closer to me, bringing our bodies directly in contact with each other.
Oh my god.
It was an out-of-body experience. I was deep in the moment, feeling his magnetic pull just as I did when we were together on the couch. It felt so right, so comfortable. My hands immediately moved to the crooks of his elbows and glided up to his biceps. I could see myself in his embrace, see myself as a woman he wanted.
My heart had never worked this hard.
I had no control over what I was doing. Everything was just happening—happening to me like I was a character in a story who had no power over her decisions. As a pragmatic person, I knew this was a bad idea. But as a woman who worshiped this man, I couldn’t turn away.
His hand tugged on my lower back, and he brought me closer into him, our foreheads coming together in the most intimate embrace we’d ever shared. It was tender and gentle, nothing like the erotic stories he had written. It seemed like all he wanted was to hold me, feel that powerful connection between our bodies.
I had never felt this way with another man. I had never felt an explosion of emotion without even kissing him. It was more than just physical attraction. My affection for him was so deep. I hadn’t realized the intensity of my feelings until then because I refused to allow myself to feel anything at all…when he was a playboy and my boss.
His hand left my back and slid into my hair, gently pulling it from my face, touching me the way I loved to be touched. His thumb rested against my cheek, and he looked down at my lips like he wanted to kiss me.
My hands left his arms and moved up his chest, feeling his hardness for the first time. I’d seen him shirtless once before. I knew exactly what was underneath that cotton, that strong chest, those grooves in his tight muscles. But nothing compared to that gorgeous face, that shadow across his jawline, those full lips, those deep eyes.