Page 14

Dustin

“I f you ask me one more time how things are going, I’m going to sabotage your grand opening.”

“ Our grand opening,” Christian corrects. “In case you’ve forgotten, the company is part yours too.”

I put him on speaker so I can be hands-free to shuffle through the files in front of me. His soft sigh comes over the line. “Why do you have a charge for a hotel bed on your business account? That seems personal to me.”

Christian and Lucius couldn’t be more opposite when it comes to communication. With Lucius, little talking is necessary. The dude practically reads minds. Christian, on the other hand, needs your words. I rub a hand down my face, trying to figure out how I’m going to sum up what happened last night in as few words as possible. “It’s a long story.”

I hear the creak of his chair like he’s settling in. “I’ve got time.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t. My CEO is up my ass to finish these interviews and then I have to go to the fucking gym to make sure the trainers he hired are worth the hype.”

“For someone who broke a bed last night, you seem tense.” Now he sounds amused, and it pisses me off even more.

Oh, who am I kidding? I was already mad. Mad at myself. What possessed me to buy all those clothes for Tina in the first place? I told myself I was merely saving time. Not that the blue dress in the shop’s window would look good draped over her curves. Or that I could imagine peeling the flowy burnt-orange one off her and taking a chunk out of her juicy ass. I had the barista write “Mouse” on the coffee cup, knowing it would piss Tina off and hopefully take her attention away from the dresses I bought like an infatuated boyfriend. And what the fuck was that tender moment in the room all about? Her touch, all loving and shit? Nope. Not falling for that again.

“With all due respect, boss , fuck off.” I hang up on Christian’s laughter.

Tina saunters into the conference room like she owns the place. Her pin-up model hips sway with each step. “You do seem sort of tense.”

I curse my habit of taking calls on speaker when I see her smug smile. She’s been marching around the outer office looking confident and in charge while I’ve been stuck in here conducting interviews all morning, and I’m… edgy. The sticky, wrinkled sleepwear she had on earlier was hot in that just-got-fucked way, but Tina in a tailored dress… damn. I want to bend her over the long table, flip the skirt up, and just stare at her ass while I work. Better yet, I could eat my lunch right off her plump cheeks like a plate, my dessert only inches away. I discreetly shift my erection under the table.

An erection that started in the car when she ordered me to stop calling her mouse. Her show of a backbone kicked off the kickstand in my pants, like she’d lick the head with her lashing tongue. Knowing there’s a lush body hiding underneath her dress only made it worse. I’m sure the last two interviewees think I’m an arrogant ass for not standing when they entered the room. Better that than thinking I’m a guy who gets a woody for interviews. I glare at Tina while she absently strokes the wrapped sandwich she’s holding. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was doing it on purpose.

“It’s probably low blood sugar,” she says. “This should help.” She places the sandwich in front of me along with a bottle of water before stepping back.

“It’s not fucking low blood sugar,” I grumble, tearing one end open with more force than necessary. Shreds of lettuce fly out like confetti onto the table. Holding her gaze, I take a hearty mouthful, imagining doing the same to the stubborn grip she has on the past. Warm crusty bread leads the way to juicy meat and tangy cheese and, oh, yeah, crispy bacon. I groan, pleased when the apples of Tina’s cheeks turn a nice shade of pink. She licks the corner of her mouth and more blood rushes to my dick. She shifts from foot to foot, and I hope she’s as hot and bothered as I am. Probably not, but I tease her anyway.

I lean back in my seat, holding the sandwich like I’d grip my cock. “You look hungry,” I say, my words dripping with so much sexual innuendo I think I hear HR shrieking from here. “Want a bite?”

The little coward avoids looking below the belt. “Um… no, thanks.” Her gaze darts from my eyes to my mouth and back. I quirk a brow when she points to my face. She mutters something under her breath before darting forward. I sit stiff (pun intended) as she dabs at the corner of my mouth with her finger like I’m a sloppy toddler. “Mayonnaise,” she explains after clearing her throat.

“Thanks, mouse. You’d make a good mommy.” I expect her to roll her eyes or make some comment about me needing mothering, but what I don’t expect is for her face to drain of all color. When she begins to sway, I’m out of my seat and around the table in a heartbeat.

Shit, she’s probably exhausted with all the workload around here and I’m being a grade-A asshole. I steer her towards a chair and kneel in front of her, offering her the water bottle. “Here. Slow sips.” She does as I ask before resting her head on the back of the chair. I grab my sandwich next, ready to hand it over. “Have you eaten yet?” I ask, studying her face for any sign she might pass out. Seeing none, I relax a little.

She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.” Despite her protest, she swipes the sandwich from my hand and takes a bite. I sit on my haunches, watching two more bites go past her lips. When she realizes what she’s done, she smiles. “Sorry. I guess I’m hungry after all.”

If there’s ever someone who looks like they need a hug, it’s Tina at this moment. I return to my seat so I don’t grab her up in my arms. “Yeah, hunger can sneak up on you quick.”

Or it can last years .

There’s a knock on the door and she closes her eyes, breaking our connection. Marsha, the woman who runs the front office, enters with her permanently-in-place smile with a striking woman following in her wake. My next interview.