Page 7

Susie

I do not, in fact, perish of shame on Friday night. Or Saturday. Or Sunday.

I’m still alive and kicking and feeling every bit the damn fool as I drive to work on Monday morning and duck into the building, hoping like hell not to see a pair of big broad shoulders or a head of shaggy black hair.

I make it to my desk and survive most of the morning, right up until my coffee habit whispers in my ear and I get up from my desk with mug in hand. It’s a mistake, because the moment I’m in the fifth floor breakroom—the one the Community Outreach Department shares with Accounting—my luck runs out.

“Good morning, Susie.”

Like Pavlov’s fricken bell, it only takes the rumble of that deep voice for a shot of arousal to run all the way through me. I swallow hard and turn around to face him.

“Hey, Jonah.” I try for casual, but I’m sure I land somewhere near ‘still horny and embarrassed out of my fucking mind for this orc.’

The corners of his lips quirk up in a knowing smile, and even though that sends another little spark through my veins, I need to remember I’m annoyed with him right now.

He gave me two of the best orgasms of my life then got all weird and left. I should be pissed. I shouldn’t be a lump of horny putty, just begging for his enormous hands to do what they want with me.

Before I can remind him of that, though, he takes a long, slow look at me with unmistakable heat in his hazel eyes, and when he finally meets my gaze again, all my thoughts burn to ash.

“Nice sweater.”

It is a nice sweater. Tight and red, with a vee neck that shows off my collarbones and my non-existent cleavage.

I’m not really even surprised he noticed it. What had he said when I asked him about noticing my sweaters?

Every godsdamn day.

Like he can read my mind, that smile of his grows even more wicked, and my cheeks heat. Unbidden, a series of images from Friday flash through my mind. How he pulled off my sweater in one smooth tug. The way he looked down at my bare breasts and handled them with such rugged tenderness. The way he…

Stop, Susie. Jesus.

Jonah’s still looking at me, eyes darker now, and when his nostrils flare slightly, I remember what he said about scenting me, about knowing just how wet he makes me.

Goddamn it.

I’m going to have to quit working here. Either that, or spend every Monday through Friday being completely, devastatingly transparent about how much I want this confusing, handsome orc who rejected me so spectacularly.

Taking my coffee and fully intending to turn tail and run back to my desk, Jonah’s deep voice stops me in my tracks.

“Susie. We should talk about Friday.”

Oh, my god. He’s not doing this. Not now. Not here. Double-checking to make sure there’s no one else nearby, I lower my voice and practically hiss my reply.

“No, I don’t think we do.”

A flash of surprise on his face. “You’re angry.”

It’s not a question, and not something I feel like I need to dignify with an answer. I step toward the door, but Jonah puts himself right in my path, halting me.

“I need to get back to work.”

He shakes his head. “Just hear me out?”

I don’t want to, I really don’t want to, but when I glance up from where I’d been stubbornly staring at the center of his chest, he’s got that same pained look on his face that he did on Friday. I still don’t want to hear him out, but seeing that look thaws my resolve a little.

“Fine,” I say. “You’ve got sixty seconds.”

To emphasize my point, I lift my wrist to look at my watch, only to realize I’m not wearing one.

Perfect.

Look at me, preserving whatever pathetic bit of dignity I have left.

Lips twitching, Jonah does an admirable job of not laughing at me before he regains his composure. “I don’t want you to think I regret what happened on Friday.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I enjoyed it more than you did.”

Jonah goes absolutely still. “You think I didn’t enjoy myself?”

Cheeks still flaming, I break his gaze. “Well, I mean, you didn’t exactly let me return the favor. And you left so fast, I just assumed—”

“Susie,” his voice is low and serious, and when I look back up at him, he’s glancing around to see if we’re being observed.

When the faint sound of voices reaches us from around the corner, he takes my mug from my hand and sets it on the counter before putting a gentle hand on my elbow. “Come here.”

Letting him steer me down an adjacent hallway, I don’t protest when he opens the door to the office supply closet and nudges me inside.

He follows me in, closes the door. There’s barely any room to move with his massive frame taking up most of the tiny space.

I suck in a breath at the nearness of him, and am immediately overwhelmed by his woods and sunshine scent.

Damn, he smells good. I thought so on Friday, too, but in the confined space it’s impossible not to notice.

Jonah turns, takes a step even closer, and I scoot away until my back is pressed up against the metal shelving unit. He moves with me, placing both his hands on the shelf on either side of me and caging me in with his body.

This is overwhelming, too, the sheer size of him towering over me, the warmth radiating from him. Overwhelming, but also incredibly sexy. Damn it. And what he says next doesn’t help matters in the slightest.

“Don’t think for one second I didn’t enjoy myself with you, Susie Grove,” he says, leaning down to speak softly next to my ear. “Feeling you come around my fingers and hearing all those little noises you made was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.”

My insides go liquid, and I reach out to grasp at the front of his shirt. “Then why did you leave?”

His eyes lock onto where I’m holding him, and he lets out a harsh breath before he answers. “I really did have to come back to the office.”

I shake my head. He’s not getting off that easily. “But even before that, you didn’t want to take things any further.”

“I didn’t want… I didn’t want to presume you wanted anything more.”

“I offered. You weren’t exactly pressuring me.”

Another harsh sigh. “I know. I just…”

He trails off, brow furrowed and eyes distant with whatever’s got him so tied up in knots.

Whatever’s up with him, it’s clear he’s not ready to talk about it.

Maybe I should just leave it there, walk away, let him sort his own shit out and get back to me, but something in me can’t accept that.

Just like Friday, I want more.

I want Jonah to know I’m open to this, open to him, even if it has me making a fool of myself all over again.

If he’s not ready to tell me everything he’s thinking, that’s okay.

As a matter of fact, we don’t have to talk at all.

Flattening my hands against his chest, I slide them up, up, up until I reach around his neck and sink them into his soft hair, gripping lightly and tilting his head back so he has to look at me.

With our height difference, I need to lean up onto my toes to get my arms all the way around him, but even that small reminder of how big he is thrills me all the way to the tips of those toes.

Holding his gaze and moving in slowly, slowly enough that he has more than enough time to stop me if he wants to, I kiss him.

As soon as my mouth touches his, something in Jonah snaps.

One of his hands plunges into my hair, and the other splays across my ass, lifting me up and forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He backs me into the shelf and it clatters, threatening to send boxes of pens and staples and copy paper crashing to the floor, but I couldn’t give a shit right now.

I open my lips, letting him in, and devour his deep, satisfied groan.

Jonah tastes just like he smells—fresh and bright and earthy. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, and though it’s a slightly strange sensation to have his tusks pressing into my skin, it doesn’t seem unnatural or uncomfortable.

It’s just… Jonah.

He pulls away from me with a sharp gasp. “Susie…”

“Yeah?” I ask, panting.

“I’m really, really fucking sorry about leaving like that.”

This time, I believe the regret on his face. I believe it so much that I kiss him again. Jonah lets out a low, approving growl and tightens his hold on my hair, my ass, pressing me tightly enough against him to feel his cock straining into the vee of my thighs.

When we come up for air again, we’re both clinging to each other, breathless and bright eyed and so utterly inappropriate to be doing this in a closet at work.

Jonah must realize it too, because he sets me slowly back down on my feet, keeping his hands braced at my waist until he’s sure I can stand on my own. Which is kind of questionable right now, given the wobbly state of my knees. When I’m steady, he leans down and presses his forehead against mine.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Maybe. You might have to work a little harder to convince me, though. Maybe a round two where you don’t leave right when things are getting interesting?”

Jonah laughs. “Are you free tonight?”

I shake my head. “I volunteer on Monday nights with the Paranormal Advancement Society. Tomorrow?”

“I’m out of town visiting family starting tomorrow. I’ll be home on Friday night, though.”

That’s a bummer. And somehow feels a little too reminiscent of him having a super convenient excuse to run his sexy ass out of my apartment.

“I swear,” Jonah says, laughing again and reaching for the phone in his pocket. “I can show you my boarding pass if—”

“Alright, alright, I believe you. And I’m free Friday.”

God, I sound eager. Too eager, probably, but Jonah doesn’t seem to mind as he leans down and kisses me again.

“Then it’s a date.”