Page 23 of Nine Months to Bear

His smirk is a promise of pleasures I’ve never allowed myself to imagine. “No, Dr. Aster, you don’t.”

The bell jingles as he leaves.

I stare at the cup in my hand as, through the thin walls, I hear his black Maybach purr to life.

I watch its shadow glide past the window. With it go both my last hope and my final excuse.

My hand hovers over the trash can. I should throw the latte away. I should take the call from my mother and accept the inevitable lecture about fiscal responsibility and career planning.

Instead, I take another sip. The cinnamon burns my tongue.

God, it tastes so good.

11

OLIVIA

His eyes lock with mine across my office. Blue with that shard of brown in it. Otherworldly.

He starts to walk toward me and the blue grows, the brown grows. It feels like I’m skydiving, plummeting out of a plane as the ocean rises up to meet me. The brown is an island, maybe, a safe landing spot.

But it’s so tiny amongst the blue. It’s so much more likely that I drown.

“You know what fascinates me about you, Dr. Aster?”

“My impressive medical credentials?” I’m going for easy, breezy sarcasm, but my voice betrays me with a slight tremor.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. It’s how perfectly put together you are.” Another step closer. “Everything in its place. Not a hair out of line.”

My back hits the wall. I didn’t realize I’d retreated so far. He doesn’t stop advancing.

“It makes a man wonder…” He places one hand beside my head, leaning in until I can smell his cologne. “… what it would take to make you come undone.”

My breath catches. “Mr. Safonov?—”

“Stefan.” His other hand reaches up to touch a loose strand of my hair. He gives it a sharp tug that makes me gasp before tucking it behind my ear. “I want to hear you say my name, Olivia.”

“This is inappropriate,” I whisper. But I make no move to push him away.

“Incredibly.” He smiles. Perfect teeth. So, so white. It makes the blue of his eyes look that much bluer. “That’s what makes it so fucking exciting.”

His breath is hot against my neck now, lips grazing the sensitive spot below my ear. I’m trapped between the wall and his hard body. I’ve never felt so deliciously cornered in my life.

“Let me help you,” Stefan urges. “Let me solve all your problems.” His hand slides up my thigh, hitching my pencil skirt higher. Every inch of revealed skin is flushed and frantic.

“I don’t need saving,” I try to say, but the words dissolve into a moan when his thumb brushes the lace edge of my underwear.

“No?” His ice-blue eyes swallow me whole. “Then why are you wet for me already?”

When his fingertip finally grazes the seat of my panties, I buckle.

He catches me before I slide to the ground. But that’s worse, because I’m closer now, drowning in him just like I feared Iwould. There is no safe haven here. It’s just Stefan in every direction. He’s in my nostrils, in my underwear, in my mind, in my soul.

“I’ve thought about this since I saw you at the gala,” he murmurs against my ear. “That tight dress. All those men watching you, wanting you. But you’re not for them, are you?” His teeth nip at my earlobe. “Tell me who you’re for, Olivia.”

“I— I— I?—”

My phone vibrates against the desk and yanks me back to reality. I’m perched on the very edge of my office chair, friction digging into the place where Fantasy Stefan was touching.