An Innocent Obsession
She searches my eyes. “Am I dreaming this?”
“I could ask myself the same question.”
Her nose wrinkles. “If I’m dreaming?”
A warm laugh is drawn out of me. “No, if I am.”
“Oh.” Her expression turns a little dazed, as if the relief of her orgasm is finally registering. “What do we do now?”
“There are two things I’d like to do.” The pressure in my cock is becoming unbearable and I reach down to adjust it, noticing Emery’s body as jerk as I complete the action, a moan tumbling out of her mouth. “All right, three things. I’d like to do three things, but I’m going to do two of them. For the time being.”
She nods and folds her hands in her lap, eager and adorable. “What are they?”
I press my lips together to trap a growl, but I end up letting it out as soon as my lips brush her ear. “I want to spread your legs apart and see the mess you just made for me in your panties.” A shudder passes through Emery and her fingers fly to the sides of my suit jacket, twisting in the material. “And then I want a desk brought in here. Starting now, you’ll be working in here with me.” My hands turn into fists on the desk. “Are there men in your life? Any men at all, Emery. Friends, brothers, a father…” I swallow a roar. “Boyfriends?”
“No. None.” I search her eyes to make sure she’s telling the truth as she continues, a small frown wrinkling her brow. “There is a man who operates the building elevator and—”
“And?”
“And the men who come down to the file room to request records.”
I swear to God I’m one second from beast fucking her on this desk, this need to possess is so strong. So rampant. “You will take my private elevator from now on, Emery. And no more file room.” I pick up the phone and bark the orders into my phone before hanging it up. “You’re my new assistant.”
She faints.
CHAPTER TWO
Emery
Well isn’t this an interesting turn of events?
I focus on denying my body its approaching orgasm, but it’s almost impossible with Clark’s hand on the small of my back. He’s guiding me through a restaurant I wouldn’t be able to afford in a million years, in my cheap thrift shop dress. Everyone is staring at me, some people even snapping discreet pictures with their cell phones. More than anything, I want to turn and hide inside the flaps of Clarke’s overcoat, but I put my chin up and bear the scrutiny. I won’t be anything less than proud to be at this man’s side.
Although…how am I at this man’s side?
I’m still not fully convinced this isn’t happening in one of my elaborate fantasies. It wouldn’t be the first time I got carried away with a daydream, after all. I once convinced myself so completely that I was Mrs. Carroway, I fell asleep in his bed and woke up in the darkness. I barely made it out before he was set to arrive back home.
The maître d’ slides a panel aside when we reach the rear of the restaurant and I cover my mouth with both hands. What greets my eyes is something out of a fairy tale. There is a small table in the center of the room. No windows. Candles flickering on bookcases and ledges everywhere. There must be hundreds.
“This room is all for us?” I breathe.
Clark’s hand travels up my spine, his fingers sliding into my hair. “It’s all for you, angel.”
How? I’m the girl that cleans his apartment. The girl who embellished her skills on her résumé to get a job, just so she could breathe the same air as Clarke Carroway. Just so I could travel the same hallways as him.
I hesitate at the edge of the room, thinking of my secret drawer full of his possessions. Little things I’ve pilfered over the years. If he knew who I was and what I’ve done, he wouldn’t be taking me out for a fancy meal. He’d be calling the police.
He would be disgusted with me.
“Angel,” he whispers against my temple. “You fainted in my office. If you hadn’t woken up within five seconds, we’d be at my physician’s office right now.” His lips brush me, and I squeeze my thighs together. “You promised you’d let me feed you in exchange for no doctor. That was the deal.”
I think of his panicked expression when I woke up. How he’d been mid-shout of my name. “I didn’t faint because I was hungry. It was just…a lot at once.”
“You’re telling me.” He guides me into the room and this time, I let him. “It’ll make me feel better if we get you something to eat.” My gorgeous boss—the man I’ve been stalking for years—turns to the maître d’. “Shrimp cocktail, two steaks, medium, and anything chocolate for dessert. As soon as possible. Thank you.”