Page 2

Reddington

Leaning back in my chair, I checked the time on my watch and tsked at the prospect of Jade being nearly forty-five minutes late.

Truth be told, I couldn’t give a fuck if she were late or not.

Would it have been great if she were on time?

Sure. But this wasn’t life or death. I had a pretty slow morning besides the virtual meeting I had with a board member in Shanghai.

That had lasted a little bit longer than I cared for, but it was over now, so no need to dwell on it.

Even with Jade’s incredible lack of punctuality, I still knew she could get a better job than this.

Hell, she deserved to have a better job than being my personal assistant.

But I wasn’t looking to fill any other positions.

I’d had a personal assistant before, but they’d proven to have an abundance of incompetence, a qualification I had not asked for on the application.

When the name Jade Logan had come across my desk, it had been a no-brainer.

I went way back with Jade to—I didn’t know—two years ago, when she’d made the stupid decision to date my younger (read: asshole) brother.

I’d say what he lacked in brains, he made up for in looks, but that couldn’t be said.

He was an unlucky bastard in the sense that he didn’t have either.

Call me conceited all you wanted, but it was all in how you preferred to perceive things. I chose to see it for what it was, so not egomaniacal, but instead confident. I was blessed, what could I say?

I grabbed my cup of coffee and swiveled in my black leather chair to look out the floor-to-ceiling window in my office.

Yep, I was a lucky son of a bitch. This space—more specifically, this office—gave me the best view of the city.

There was no place like it on earth, and I loved it.

Loved the hustle and bustle of New York in general.

Born and raised here, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

A knock sounded on my door, one that sounded urgent and heavy, like the person really wanted to make sure I heard them. Oh, I heard them all right. I also knew exactly who it was, and I’d make her sweat for a second. . . or two.

Another rap, this time louder and more aggressive, followed by two more.

Wow, for someone who was late to work, she seemed to care a shit ton.

Fine, I’d put her out of her misery. “Come in,” I said without turning around, my eyes still focused intently on the beautiful view. Now that Jade was here, though, it wasn’t the most beautiful view I could have been enjoying in this space.

See, I didn’t need to spin this chair around and look at Jade to know what I was missing.

I could just sit here and bring up the image of her in my mind’s eye to appreciate her beauty without worrying if my expression was giving me away.

That was why I tried my damnedest to retain a serious—borderline blank—expression.

However, it wasn’t easy. Jade Logan did not make it easy. The thing was, Jade wasn’t beautiful. She was fucking stunning. And she didn’t even try hard. She just was that way naturally. Her face wasn’t covered in makeup. Her hair wasn’t touched up or fussed with sticky shit.

Her hair was chestnut brown, but when the light hit it at just the right angle there were a bunch of shades of brown that came through.

She had brown eyes, but they weren’t just brown.

No, they had gold flecks in them when she grew impassioned—which was more often than not.

It was almost like they were sparkling just for me, and in those moments, I felt like the luckiest man in the world for getting to converse with a woman who had more fire and passion in her pinky finger than most people had in their entire damn body.

Then there were her lips. . . don’t even get me started on those.

They were puffy and full, and appeared to be in a constant state of pucker.

I wanted nothing more than to know what they tasted like.

My fists curled just thinking about every other man who had gotten the immense pleasure of kissing, licking, and sucking on her lips.

Lucky sons of bitches. Not that any of them had done anything to deserve to be kissed by her.

But the absolute best and worst thing about Jade had to be that she didn’t have a clue about any of this.

And I wasn’t just talking about the fact that she didn’t know I had a very grown-ass, man-sized crush on her.

I was referring to her not knowing just how gorgeous she was.

It made her that much more attractive, if you asked me.

“Hello, are you even listening to me?” she cut into my thoughts, rather rudely in my opinion, her voice hitting an exceptionally high octave. The woman didn’t like to be ignored—got it. “Talking to you is like talking to the wall.”

“Yeah? Have any good conversations with walls lately? If you did, do tell. I’d like to know what they say to you.

” I turned around, casually peering down as I took a sip of my coffee before scratching my chin.

My fingers came into contact with the five o’clock shadow that was coming in more heavily, from having skipped my morning shave in lieu of hitting the gym and then hopping in the shower.

I’d gotten up late, so something had to be cut out of my routine.

Which was probably why, unlike Jade, I still managed to get here on time.

“You’re a piece of work,” Jade replied, exhaling like she was a wolf about to blow all the contents on my desk to the floor.

For the first time since she’d come in here, I looked up at her. Like really looked at her. And I struggled to maintain my typical stoic expression when I caught sight of what she was wearing. I cleared my throat and narrowed my lips to contain my laughter.

“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked, not a hint of amusement entering my voice. Not that I was amused. That outfit was a dead giveaway she was doing the walk of shame. I’d say this, though—she looked very sexy doing it.

She scowled, raising a hand and wagging a finger in my face. “You didn’t give me a chance to go back home and change.”

My jaw twitched. Just as I’d thought. She was coming from a.

. . full evening. If I had the chance, I would have shown her just how full her evening could be with me.

I’d stuff her full of my cock, plunging deep inside her until I was at the hilt, and there was no going back for either of us.

And I’d stare into those big, beautiful brown eyes that shone like there were a thousand diamonds fluttering in them on a daily basis.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” she questioned, rolling her eyes with the most sass I’d seen in a woman. Not in this woman, though. She could be sassier. I’d seen it.

I stuck my tongue in my cheek. “That would make it mighty hard to French kiss, don’t you think? And that would be a real shame because I’ve been told I’m such a skilled kisser that I should give lessons.”

She laughed so hard she placed her hands on her knees as she bent over. Waving a hand in the air, she closed her eyes and continued laughing. “Sorry, it’s just that I can’t imagine that being true.”

Oh, it’s true. Come over here, sit on my lap, and I’ll prove it to you. “You know what I think is funny? The fact that you’ve imagined me kissing women.” I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the desk. “Or tell me, Jade, is it you who you imagine me kissing?”

She stopped laughing and stood up straight. Ramrod straight. So much so that I could see her taut nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Good Lord. My cock twitched. Down boy, she’s not ours. Much to my immense displeasure.

“You wish.”

“I don’t wish. I know,” I replied coolly, leaning back again.

She didn’t respond, only swallowed. That confirmed that—she had thought about me kissing her before.

I would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t, frankly.

Anyone with two eyes could see we had chemistry.

Had this been the sort of chemistry they’d taught in science class, by the way, maybe I would’ve been inclined to pay more attention.

I could go ninety rounds with this woman, but it was still a workday, and we were still employer and employee. So, I nudged my chin toward the door. “Go home and change. Then come back when you’re dressed in something less”—I searched for the right word—“wrinkled.”

That wasn’t what I wanted in the least, but I couldn’t focus knowing she was walking around the office dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

“You need me here, though,” she argued, giving me a perplexed look.

She was right. I did need her. I needed her to shut the hell up and let me kiss her breathless. I needed her to see that my brother had been all wrong for her, that she had been with the wrong brother back then.

I wet my lips. “Wrong. I need my assistant not to look like she was just fucked.” I knew it was harsh, but I also knew it’d make her leave without saying another word.

I needed that for my own sake because seeing her like that just pissed me off.

I waved my hand toward the door and looked down, dismissing her.

“I have work to do. You know the way out,” I told her, insistence lacing my voice.

She didn’t respond—just as I’d suspected—so I barely glanced up, only enough to see that she was already at the door, her hand on the handle. “Isn’t your dinner party tonight? The one where you’re supposed to schmooze with the possible investor?”

“Yes.”

Opening the door, she said over her shoulder, “Have fun at your party, Mr. Lyons.”

That mister crap really pissed me off. Why couldn’t she just call me Red? I already knew the answer to that question—because she was a giant thorn in my side, and she enjoyed it too goddamn much.