Page 10 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

CYNTHIA

J ason dropped a notebook and pad of paper on the table, and sat down across from me, all cool confidence and hard edges.

Not like that softer man from last night.

He’d been…not nice exactly, but magnetic.

I sat back, mirroring his confident pose.

He tapped the pen against the table and considered me with a cocked blond brow.

Jason was a real piece of work. His laughing eyes, his quick wit, it had all pointed to a man with depths.

Guess not . He was just like he appeared on conference calls—a perfectionist hard-ass.

His blond hair waved slightly and his shirt was rolled up at the sleeves. The devil off duty. Lucky me . He uncapped the pen in preparation for whatever bullshit list he was about to give me.

“First, our managing partners and colleagues can never know,” he said. I rolled my eyes at his serious expression.

“Like they would care,” I shot back.

“It’s in the ethical rules. We could be fired for rooming together.”

I almost laughed, but he was utterly serious. Paranoid much? “Then move out,” I replied.

“I can’t.” He leaned over the table, eyes intent on mine. “I booked this house and I’m staying.”

I mirrored his pose. I was not taking shit from this guy. “I am too. ”

His nostrils flared slightly. “So we need to make it work,” he said, sounding utterly reasonable and entirely infuriating. “Unless you think you can’t handle being this close to me?” He smirked. “The walls are really thin. And I sleep naked.”

I swallowed hard, and he watched me react, those blue eyes scanning my face. Get it together. He’s just messing with you. I had to start giving as good as I got, or he was going to run roughshod over me.

“I can handle it,” I scoffed. “You think a little nudity is going to throw me off? Think again.” I smiled coolly. His eyes sparked. Oh no.

“Noted,” he said with a grin. “Regardless. No one can know we’re staying here together. I’m not risking it.”

Damn, he was persistent. “You’re such a goody two shoes. Not to mention paranoid,” I replied. No one was ever going to find out we were staying together. His face tightened.

“Write. It.” His eyes were hot on mine. I’d been subjected to this same treatment by him on our last deal. I had muted the conference call and screamed into a pillow. Jason Elliott was ruthless and single-minded.

“Fine.” I scribbled it out and tossed the paper back down. “But rule number two is that I need privacy, and that includes for my documents and my phone calls. You could walk in on me at any time.”

He tapped a finger on the table, considering me. “You’d have your own room,” he said. “Though we’d have to share a bathroom. I think there’s a desk in your room. And a working lock.” He raised a brow. “Is that good enough for you, princess?”

“Lucky me.” This whole house was supposed to be mine. I imagined strangling him where he sat.

“And the company isn’t bad.” He gave me a half smile. I narrowed my eyes. Is he flirting ? No, thanks. We were rivals, and I didn’t trust his smiles. As soon as I let my guard down, he would pounce.

“Just promise you won’t come into my room without permission,” I said.

There was a zing in the air as I said the word permission.

Hunger flashed through his eyes and then disappeared.

I shivered. Wow. Being the sole focus of his attention was…

hot. Now is so not the time, brain. Keep it in your pants.

Like really, really deep in your pants. Oh no, deep. Like Jason had been last night. Help.

But all he did was nod and scribble the rule down on paper.

“I have shower priority,” he said.

“Absolutely not.”

“I was here first.”

“Going to need to do better than that, counselor. Repeating points is the sign of a weak negotiator.” I grinned at him, and his lips quirked.

“Okay, I’ll shower at seven a.m., and you can have it from eight a.m. onwards. Deal?”

I nodded. That gave me forty-five minutes, and hopefully I would never see him naked.

He looked up from the paper. “Anything else you want to add? Should I check in with you before I use the bathroom?”

“Very funny.” I struggled to think of something else to add. I wanted this man firmly in a box. But I was so tired and so sick of sparring with him. I just wanted to crawl into bed and forget about everything for a few hours.

“No sex.” The words came out of nowhere, and I jerked my head up.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

“I said we can’t have sex.” He repeated the words slowly.

My face flamed. “Uh, don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it. We are very much on the same page.”

His tongue ran across his lower lip, and my gut tightened. My brain knew I could never be naked with him again, but my body clamored for a second round.

“Good. Because I was worried.”

“About what?” I let out a small laugh. “Did you think I’d jump you? I have some self-restraint.” I didn’t. Not really. Or I wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place.

“Then it should be no problem.” He shot back. His jaw was tight. He looked almost offended. Well, you started it .

“No, no problem at all.” I held his gaze for a second, trying to see the man I’d seen flashes of last night and tonight.

The man who had smiled at me, who had let me come inside.

Nothing. This was the real Jason Elliott.

The guy who made a game of demanding documents at eleven p.m. Cold through and through.

I shook my head and wrote it down.

“Rule Number 4: No sex.”

When I looked up, I met his eyes. For just one second, they seemed to burn right into me. He swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. In that brief moment, I thought he might be imagining me naked.

“Anything else?” I asked, striving for calm, even as my pulse fluttered.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he said.

“I’m sure you will,” I responded and rolled my eyes. “If that’s all for now, can you show me to my room?”

Without a word, he pushed back from the table and grabbed my bags, the muscles in his back flexing and rolling under his thin shirt. I looked away, remembering how good they had felt under my fingers.

This is going to be fun. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back. Hot and cold. One second, he looked at me like I was water in the desert, the next, he was back to being an impassive observer.

We mounted the stairs from the kitchen into a short hallway, carpeted in soft green. There were framed photos of chickens on the walls, and chicken signs on each door. Lovely .

“My room.” He pointed at the first door on the right. I caught a glimpse of a massive bed, neatly made.

“Your room,” he said, pushing open the next door on the right. Another king-size bed with a thick frame. Soft blue rug, a plush armchair.

He surveyed the space. “Huh. Less chicken paraphernalia in here. I should have picked this one.”

“Not going to make me swap with you, King Jason?”

He rounded on me, eyes lit with unholy light. “Maybe I will. ”

“You’re such a jerk.” The words popped out before I could think better of it. His nostrils flared.

“Besides,” I said and sprawled out on the bed. “Now it’s mine.”

He scanned my body, and my skin prickled. He’d looked at me just like that last night. Face set, eyes hot.

“Bathroom is across the hall,” he finally said. “I’ll do my best to make sure we don’t run into each other.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Naked , he didn’t need to add.

“Well, that would be impossible with our set shower times,” I muttered.

He ignored my sarcasm and gave me a decisive nod. “Good night.” He turned and strode from the room.

“Good night,” I sang, just because I knew it would annoy him. When he was gone, I flopped back on the bed. My breaths were short and my palms sweaty. Arguing with Jason was like running ten miles, or having really good sex with someone who made you a little nervous. Don’t even go there.

His door slammed shut, and I smirked. Someone wasn’t as unaffected as they pretended to be.

My pleasure evaporated at the soft rasp of pants being pulled over skin.

Oh no . He’d said the walls were thin, but how thin?

The creak of a bed frame was like a gunshot in my silent room.

His soft groan as he settled made my face flame.

Okay, so really fucking thin. Great. Just great.

I held myself rigid in the bed, listening to every creak of his mattress.

Here’s hoping he doesn’t snore. This was insane.

Trapped here, in this absurd house, with my rival.

The rival I’d slept with last night. And, if I were being perfectly honest, the man who’d given me the best orgasms of my life.

We’d spend every day together at work, and every night together sharing a wall.

And if I didn’t win this deal, I’d be fired.

A desperate laugh tore from my throat, and I muffled it quickly with a pillow.

I couldn’t hear Jason over the cloud of down and cotton.

That’s how I’ll be sleeping then. Pillow over my head, pajamas in place.

With any luck, I wouldn’t have to see him at all tomorrow.

The very first person I ran into the next day was Jason. Literally ran into. I’d slept restlessly in the too-quiet house, and my eyes were half-closed and gritty when I stumbled into the hallway that morning.

I groped for the bathroom door handle right as he swung it open. Grasping fingers met hard muscle and hot skin. His soft groan made me leap back and plaster myself to the opposite wall. The edge of a frame dug into my skull, but I stayed still.

“Good morning to you too,” he said, his voice a little rough.

Against my better judgment, I met his eyes. His mouth was soft and tilted upward. Laughing at me. Of course. I caught a glimpse of his rounded shoulders and the swoop of his collarbones before I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Tell me I’m having a nightmare,” I muttered.

“More like a dream,” he replied smugly.

“Go away, Jason. It’s too early.” I ignored his barb. “Don’t you shower at seven a.m. anyway? It’s nine.” I sounded as grumpy as I felt. Running into my semi-nude opposing counsel was not a good start to my day.

“On weekdays. On weekends, I’m more…relaxed,” he replied.

“Relaxed. That’s you,” I said. His towel brushed against my thighs as he passed me, and I tried to meld my body to the wall.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said, his voice velvet-soft, and his body way too close. His breath shushed over my cheek, and an unwelcome shiver went through me.

“I wouldn’t let you bite me,” I snapped back. Where the hell had that come from?

“Oh, I think you would,” he replied. And then he was gone. I lay against the wall while he rustled around in his room, and my heart thudded.

He was just messing with me. And it was working. I was weak where he was concerned. My stomach tightened and my body came to attention when he was near. Stupid body.

I finally shut myself into the spacious bathroom and locked the door, then checked the lock.

There were two sinks, a modern vanity, a soft rag rug, and a massive shower with a rainfall shower head and a bench.

Nice . I stripped off my sweaty pajamas and stood under the hot spray.

Jason’s products were lined up like soldiers along one wall.

I shoved them aside to make space for my own and happily soaped and lathered under the spray, already feeling better.

Maybe I could survive this.