Page 2 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter two

Peyton Chase

I blink down at the phone, lips parted with shock. Did my boss have a…special guest with him? The unmistakable sounds of moans and grunts echo in my mind like a broken record. Mavik Blackwood doesn’t have hookups. So, who the fuck did I just hear on the other end of the phone?

Unexpected jealousy grips me as I remain frozen in his office, my phone still firmly in my grasp. My mind bounces from scenario to scenario, from faceless body to body as they writhe in pleasure underneath him. The thought is so unexpected, I can’t even imagine whether it’s a man or a woman.

Mavik Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Investments, is usually perceived as cold and domineering.

Intense. His devotion to this company as a workaholic mirrors that of his father and, reportedly, his grandfather as well.

In other words, Mavik Blackwood is a busy man who doesn’t have time for relationships.

Hell, I’m just his assistant, and I don’t even have time for a relationship.

There’s a knock on the door behind me. “You okay, Peyton? You’re kind of just standing there.”

I spin on my heel and face my coworker and friend, Iris. She’s leaning against the doorjamb of Mavik’s office, eyes narrowed with concern. “I’m fine,” I say, giving her a sweet smile and a dismissive wave as I walk past her to my desk.

A few curious glances from some of my nosy coworkers are aimed my way. I slide into my seat and ignore them, moving the mouse around until my computer screen flickers on. Out of habit more than anything, I pull up my email, immediately checking to see if I received one from someone important.

Iris props a hip on the side of my desk and picks up the wooden figure of a wolf.

Heat rises in my cheeks as she scrutinizes the little figurine, rotating it with her pink-tipped fingers, inspecting it from every angle.

Last week, I carved that little creature with Mavik in mind.

They say a wolf symbolizes loyalty, strength, and power.

At the time, I thought it was the perfect gift.

I must have been sentimental or some shit because now I just feel foolish.

Seriously, who was on the other end of the phone with him?

Reaching over my desk, I pluck the wolf figurine from her fingers and place it carefully in my drawer. “I said I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look as uptight as the big boss man.” She glances around, eyes widening as if she just noticed. “Wait, where is Mr. Blackwood?”

As if my leg has a mind of its own, I cross it, immediately feeling the way my foot twitches in irritation. “No idea. He told me he’d be another two hours.”

“Huh,” she says, rolling an office chair toward my desk before smoothing a hand down her pencil skirt and sitting across from me. “That’s oddly out of character for him.”

“Right?” Quickly looking around and noting that our other coworkers are busy, I lean forward and whisper, “I think he was with someone.”

Her eyes widen with shock. “Like with someone- with someone ?” Iris fans herself and smirks. “God, can you imagine? The man might be scary as fuck, but he’s one tasty snack,” she whispers back. “He’s like a mystery wrapped in an Armani suit with an edge of danger.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” The phrase ‘ tall, dark, and handsome ’ describes Mavik perfectly. Especially with his chiseled features and those damn signature designer suits that accentuate his six-foot-five frame, deep tan, and perfectly styled dark hair.

Typing out a quick email, I hit send and pull up Mr. Blackwood’s schedule so I can shift a few things around before pulling up the contact info for Sinclair’s assistant.

Fuck, I can’t believe he’s cancelling. Securing a meeting with Mr. Sinclair is harder than spotting a damn unicorn.

I quickly tap on the keyboard and pick up my phone.

I cradle it to my ear right as Iris chuckles.

“Well, that explains the attitude,” she says.

I hang up the phone and stare at her. “What attitude?”

She grins. “You’re jealous.”

I narrow my eyes at my soon-to-be ex-friend. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not jealous.” I’m totally jealous.

“You bend over backwards for him every damn day, running all the little errands for Mr. Blackwood—and most of the big ones too.” She taps the file folders at the edge of my desk with a small smirk.

“You’re his shadow at work, and I’m pretty sure you could run this whole damn company just as well as he can, that’s how dedicated you are, but it sounds like he’s prioritizing his personal life for the first time ever, leaving you feeling lost.”

God, am I that fucking predictable? “I’m not lost, Ms. Fancy-Skirt Therapist,” I say weakly. “Just a little shocked. That’s all.”

“Shocked and jealous . Some pretty little thing is probably having the time of her life, and you’re here giving me those puppy-dog eyes.” She bats her lashes dramatically in her usual over-the-top fashion.

I laugh, sticking my foot out from under the desk to kick at her expensive-as-fuck red stilettos.

“Shut up, witch. It could be a man in his bed.” God, please don’t let it be a man in his bed.

If my boss really does swing my way, well then, yes, I’ll be one jealous mother-effer.

At least if they’re a woman, I can tell myself I never had a chance.

“Get out of here!” I say, playfully tossing a paperclip into her hair. “I have some work to do.”

Iris giggles and stands, placing her hands up in the ‘ I-surrender’ motion. “Okay, okay. My bad. Just thought I was stating the obvious.”

“I admit nothing. Now, seriously—go back to your desk. I have to regain my composure and cancel our meeting with the Sinclairs.”

She scrunches her face. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Trying to reschedule goes just as horribly as I predicted.

Daniel Sinclair’s assistant, Peggy, refused to commit to anything, stating that Mr. Sinclair would not be pleased that we wasted his time.

I tried to explain that it’s a family emergency and completely out of the norm.

I never usually reschedule or cancel important meetings.

After several minutes of back and forth, Peggy agrees to contact us with a new time if Mr. Sinclair is still willing to meet with us. She says it in such a snooty way before hanging up the phone, she might as well have said, ‘ If Mr. Sinclair decides to grace you with his presence .’

“Damn it.” I slam the phone back down on its receiver with a huff.

It’s only ten a.m. and this day has already gone to shit.

My day began with a strange phone call from my brother.

Something in his voice sounded off. I got the impression that he was trying to tell me something, but changed his mind at the last minute.

When I asked him if he was okay, he changed the subject.

Then, my usual café visit was ruined by my favorite barista’s absence, which resulted in my coffee tasting absolutely terrible; burnt and bitter.

And to top things off, Mavik was late. He’s never late.

I frantically tried reaching him for about an hour, unsure of what to do and half wondering which hospital to contact first, when he finally answered.

The entire morning has been turned upside down, and damn it, Iris is right. I feel kind of lost. The problem isn’t just Mavik’s absence; it’s everything happening simultaneously. I’m pretty damn good at my job, and I hate how it feels like I’ve failed somehow.

The only plus side of this morning is that I didn’t get the creepy, weird feeling of someone watching me. The strange sensation has been happening more often, and I’m starting to think it’s not just my imagination.

Two hours later, and I’m so engrossed in preparing consumer data reports for this week’s meetings with the investment team, I don’t notice the shift in the room until Mr. Blackwood’s signature cologne swirls in the air right next to me.

“Good afternoon.”

My gaze wanders up the length of Mavik Blackwood’s body, my heart racing.

The definition of his hard muscles is clear in his broad shoulders and thick arms. Three years of working for Mavik, of being his right-hand man, and I’ve never seen him in anything other than a suit.

Not that I’m complaining, because his suits were made to cup him to perfection.

He seems to be curious about what I’m organizing, probably since he didn’t give me an actual task before hanging up, because he leans over me, peering down at my tablet.

Mr. Blackwood has always carried himself with a confident, borderline-cocky attitude, but there’s something different about him today.

The intense vibe he has about him has shifted into something more…

alive. It’s almost as if he’s more energetic. Happy .

Ah crap, he totally got laid.

After a moment, he gracefully moves around my desk before sliding into the abandoned chair Iris left behind.

That’s when I notice his tie is loose around his neck, casually enough to make my cock jerk to attention.

His dark, wet hair suggests a recent shower before styling.

Damn, I don’t know what’s more distracting, the fact that he smells so fucking delicious or that this casual, relaxed version of Mavik is so fucking sexy.

He runs a hand through his wet hair, and suddenly I’m imagining him in the shower.

Since Blackwood Investments owns the whole building, it would only make sense that Mr. Blackwood himself would live in the penthouse that takes up the entire top floor, making it easy for him to shower before walking into the office.

He clears his throat, causing my eyes to flicker up to his. There’s an almost heated energy in his gaze.

“Peyton,” he growls. “You need to stop looking at me like that.”

His words snap me back to reality. “Oh, god.” I fumble in my seat and almost drop my tablet. “I’m so sorry. Did you say something?”

His lips twitch with amusement, and I blink. “I thanked you for preparing this week’s reports for our meetings with the executives and investors. Were you able to reach Mr. Sinclair’s office?”

I sigh. “I’m sorry, sir. His assistant gave me the runaround.

They were pretty upset with us for canceling.

Peggy, Mr. Sinclair’s assistant, said she would get back to us with a time if Mr. Sinclair is still willing to meet with us.

Seriously, the audacity of that woman! It’s bullshit.

She acts like he’s royalty or something. ”

Mavik’s eyes flash with rage before he nods slowly, some of that light in his eyes dimming.

The impulse to defend myself is overwhelming, like a knee-jerk reaction.

I don’t want Mavik to think I let Peggy walk all over me.

“I mentioned you had a family emergency, and that, in all my time with you, I’ve never had to cancel like this.

I’m sorry if I overstepped, sir, but I didn’t really know what to say.

Though I did try to reassure Mr. Sinclair’s assistant that this meeting is very important to us. I—”

Mavik holds up a hand, and I snap my mouth shut. Damn. I can’t believe I just rambled my excuses at him. Seeing Mavik look so damn sexy, combined with my nerves and jealousy, has me acting like it’s my first day at the job.

As if sensing this moment of silence is the perfect time to announce itself, my stomach growls.

His eyes trail down my body, his intense gaze causing me to shiver. “Are you almost done with the consumer reports?”

“Yes. I just finished. I also prepared a report for you with a good investment opportunity wi—”

Mavik holds up his hand again. Only this time, he offers me a sexy-as-sin smirk. Okay, seriously? Who the fuck is this guy? Mavik Blackwood doesn’t dress casually, or smile this often, let alone stop someone from telling him about a good investment opportunity.

“Let me take you to lunch. My treat,” he says, completely catching me off guard. My eyes drop to my tablet, and I glance at today’s schedule. We never get lunch together, not unless we’re wrapping up a meeting or have business out of town.

“Sir?” I ask stupidly, heart in my throat. What the fuck is happening?

“You’re always taking care of me, Peyton, but who takes care of you?

” With that, he stands, tightens his tie, and walks toward the elevators.

Even through my pure shock and confusion, I can’t help but watch him walk away.

Mavik peers over his shoulder, and I swear the cocky bastard chuckles when he sees me checking out his ass.

My mouth must resemble a little fishy out of water because I just sit there, opening and closing it several times before snapping back to reality, gathering my things, and rushing after my boss.