Micah (The Corsetti Empire)

“You rang?” she said, holding her phone up.

“Close the door.”

Isabel could feel the sweat staring to pool between her breasts. If she didn’t calm her breathing, she’d fall into a full-blown panic attack. His demeanor seemed off. Not as if he was angry, just bothered by something. Maybe bothered by her. She closed the door and crossed the office to sit in the chair across from his desk. He was still standing behind it, watching her every move as if she were his prey and he was about to jump.

“You left early this morning.”

“There was a lot to get done.”

“Like what?”

“Um... well, I finished this afternoon’s presentation for the Arnolds and had a trade that needed to be reviewed this morning before you placed everything.”

“Was all of that more important than spending the morning with me?”

She sat there, staring across the desk at him. He still hadn’t taken a seat, and was trying to use his size to intimidate her. She’d seen him do it before, but it never worked on her and he knew it.

“Are you upset with me about something, Micah?”

“Upset? No, why?”

“Because you are acting like a neanderthal.”

“I am not.”

“Then sit down and stop hovering.”

She watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat. He looked amazing in a three-piece suit. Since he had forgone a tie, he had the top couple buttons of his dress shirt undone, and she could see his beautifully tan skin peeking out. She licked her lips in protest because what she really wanted to do was trace that small patch of skin with her tongue all the way down his beautiful body.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Your lip?”

“No,” she said, raising a finger to touch the swollen flesh, “I’m fine.”

“Nice scarf. I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

“I got creative. It’s not technically a scarf. It’s a slip, you know, for under my dresses. I didn’t pack anything else that would work.”

“Fuck.” He shifted in his seat. “This is going to be harder than I thought it was.”

“What is?”

“This thing, this thing between me and you.”

“There isn’t really a thing, is there? I mean, we are supposedly engaged, but that’s a load of shit.”

“Lower your voice.”

Isabel rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. Anyway, we fucked. That’s all it was, right? It’s not like there is a thing going on here. We had too much to drink and decided to become more than just friends for the night. No regrets, remember?”

“I don’t regret anything. Do you?”

“No, I don’t. So what is so hard, then?”

“My fucking cock, and the only thing keeping me from pushing you on to my desk and burying my face into that sweet pussy of yours, is the fact that I built a fucking glass office.”