Page 28

twenty-eight

Rowan followed Davey down the hall, her heartbeat steady but purposeful. As soon as they stepped into his office, she reached past him, closed the door, and turned the lock with a decisive click.

Davey arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting you,” she said, stepping into his space. “Daphne had a point.”

His hands found her hips instinctively, but there was hesitation in his touch. “Which point exactly?”

She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the tension coiled beneath the surface. “Breathe, eat, fuck.” She leaned in, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “And we both know which one we need right now.”

Davey let out a rough exhale, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against hers. “Rowan…”

She kissed him. Hard. She felt his resistance, the constant weight he carried, but as her fingers wove into his hair and she pressed closer, his walls began to crack. His lips fused with hers, each kiss increasing in urgency as her touch shattered his self-control. She playfully tugged at his lower lip, drawing a deep, primal growl from his chest.

“Jesus, Ro. You’re trouble.”

“The best kind,” she shot back, her voice breathless as she slid her hands under his shirt, her nails scraping against the hard planes of his abs. She pushed the fabric up impatiently, breaking away just long enough to yank it over his head and toss it to the floor. God, he was a fucking masterpiece—broad shoulders, a chest carved from granite, and a trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his pants that made her mouth water.

Her fingers danced down his torso, tracing every dip and curve of muscle with deliberate slowness. She lingered just below his navel, her touch feather-light, and he jerked away with a strangled laugh.

“That’s right.” A wicked grin spread across her face. “You’re ticklish.”

His eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “Don’t even think about it, Hellcat.”

“Too late.” She dug in, skittering her fingertips across his skin in a flurry of feather-light touches. Davey jerked, a strangled laugh escaping as he tried to twist away from her merciless assault.

“Rowan, I swear to God—” His threat dissolved into another burst of laughter as she found a new weak spot along his ribs near his tattoo.

His hands shot out, capturing her wrists in a firm grip. With a swift, fluid motion, he spun her around, pinning her back against his chest. “You’re playing with fire, Hellcat,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear as he ground his hips into her ass.

Her pulse raced, desire pooling low in her belly. She arched back, grinding against the ridge of his arousal. “Maybe I like the heat.”

A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest. “Careful what you wish for.” His hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When he reached her hips, he gripped them tightly, pulling her flush against him so she could feel every inch of his hard cock straining against his pants.

She bit back a moan, her head falling back against his shoulder as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. His teeth grazed her pulse point, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She reached back, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him close as he nipped and sucked at her neck, marking her in a way that made her thighs clench.

Davey’s hand slipped under her shirt, calloused fingers brushing against the swell of her breast before finding her nipple already hard and aching. He rolled it between his fingers, giving it a firm tug that shot straight down the center of her body to pool between her legs.

“I want to fuck you,” she hissed, spinning in his arms and crashing her mouth against his in a searing kiss. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, nails biting into flesh as she pulled him impossibly closer.

He groaned into her mouth, the sound raw and needy as his hands slid down to cup her ass, squeezing roughly as he ground his hips against hers. The friction sent jolts of pleasure ricocheting through her body, stoking the flames higher.

“Do you, Hellcat? Right here where anyone could walk by and hear you screaming my name?”

“Yes, right here.” Rowan tore her mouth away, gasping for air, her pulse a wild drumbeat in her ears. “Right now. Only you’ll be the one screaming.” She shoved him back, step by step, until his legs hit the desk—then pressed forward, palms flat against his shoulders, and forced him down onto the polished wood with a wicked grin. Papers scattered across the surface, a pen clattered to the floor, and a half-full glass of water teetered dangerously at the edge.

Davey let out a sharp breath, his head tipping back to eye the glass for half a second before his gaze snapped to hers—dark, heated, full of challenge.

She slid off her pants and climbed onto his lap, straddling the solid strength of his thighs. The heat of him burned through the thin fabric of her underwear. She rolled her hips, grinding against the thick ridge of his erection.

“Fuck, Rowan,” he groaned, hands gripping her ass, pulling her closer as he thrust up to meet the motion of her hips.

“I already told you, that’s the plan.” She leaned down, capturing his mouth in another searing kiss as she fumbled with the button of his pants. She needed him inside her, needed to feel his skin against hers, to lose herself in the heat and passion that always consumed them. Finally the button slipped free and she pulled down the zipper of his fly.

He was bare underneath. Of course. She had yet to see him in any kind of underwear. His erection sprung free, thick and hard against her palm.

“What should I do with this?”

“Whatever you want, Hellcat,” he said between clenched teeth, his fingers digging almost painfully into the globes of her ass.

“ Anything I want?”

She kept her touch light as she stroked him from base to tip, her fingernails grazing the sensitive skin. Davey let out a hiss, his hips jerking up into her hand seeking more friction.

“Rowan...” Her name fell from his lips, half warning, half plea.

She tightened her grip, pumping him in a steady rhythm that had him panting and cursing under his breath. Satisfaction curled through her, heady and intoxicating, at seeing him rapidly unraveling beneath her touch.

Leaning down, she flicked her tongue across the broad head of his cock, tasting the salty tang of pre-cum. Davey groaned, low and guttural, his hands fisting in her hair. She took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue, hollowing her cheeks as she slid down his impressive length.

“Jesus, your mouth,” he ground out, his grip on her hair tightening to the edge of pain as she bobbed up and down. She loved seeing him like this— stripped bare, desperate, completely at her mercy.

Rowan released him with a wet pop, crawling back up his body to claim his mouth in a filthy kiss.

Davey groaned into it, one hand roaming from her ass to slide beneath the scrap of lace between her thighs. He growled low in his throat when he found her already slick and swollen for him.

“So fucking wet,” he rasped, pressing two fingers inside her. “You liked having my cock in your mouth.”

“Yes.” She cried out, head falling back as he pumped them in and out, his thumb circling her clit with devastating precision. Pleasure crashed through her in dizzying waves and she rocked against his hand, chasing the delicious friction.

“Where else do you like my cock?”

“Here.” She reached between them and pulled aside the gusset of her panties, giving him access.

He repositioned himself under her, gripping the base of his cock so that the broad head brushed against her slick folds. “You want me deep inside you, filling you up.”

“Yes.”

“Then ride me, Hellcat.” His voice was gravel, his blue eyes darkening with primal need as he watched her.

Slowly, torturously, she sank down, taking him inch by delicious inch. They both groaned as he plunged so deep she swore she could feel him in her soul.

And his desk phone rang.

Davey cursed, pulling back just enough to glare at the offending device.

She started to move, undulating her hips. “Ignore it.”

“Fuck,” he groaned and caught her hips in his hands, stilling her. He was trembling, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs like he’d run a marathon. “As much as I want to, I can’t.”

No, of course, he couldn’t. Not with everything going on. How could she forget? Her goal had been to distract him from his fears and worry, but for a moment, she’d distracted herself, too.

That always happened with him.

A flicker of irritation sparked in her chest. At herself, for letting him pull her under so easily. At him, for being so damn impossible to resist. For making her want so completely, so recklessly, that she lost sight of the dangers closing in around them.

She clenched her jaw, forcing down the sharp edge of frustration before it could spill over. This wasn’t his fault. Not really. But it didn’t change the fact that every time she got too close, every time she let herself sink into his heat, she forgot.

Forgetting could get them both killed.

Or get others killed, like Liam.

And yet, disappointment curled low in her stomach, stubborn and insistent.

She leaned over to kiss his lips—lightly and more controlled this time, more for herself than for him—before climbing off him to perch on the edge of his desk. “To be continued.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. I won’t be able to sit at this desk now without thinking of you riding me on it.” He stood and fastened his pants, adjusting his very obvious erection before grabbing his shirt from the floor. Circling around the desk, he tugged the shirt over his head, rolled his shoulders, and dropped into the big leather executive chair. He drew a deep, measured breath and let it out slowly, then reached for the phone, and just like that, he became the name on the polished brass plate outside his door.

David G. E. Wilde, CEO.

It was hot as fuck.

“Mia, I’m going to need you to hold all my calls,” he said, voice still a little rough. Not rough enough that anyone else would notice, but just enough that Rowan wanted to tease him, see how long that cool CEO composure would last with her hands sliding down his abs, wrapping around his cock.

“We have a situation and I need to…” He trailed off, and whatever his secretary said had his expression shifting, sharpening. “No. Yeah, you’re right. I can’t keep putting him off. Send him through. I’ll talk to him, but no more calls today.” He hit the hold button for the line and then looked at her—really looked at her.

Not with the heat that had burned between them moments ago.

Not with the teasing challenge that always made her want to push all his buttons.

This was different.

Heavier.

Dread curdled in her gut—it was that slow, sinking weight of inevitability, the moment before the other shoe dropped, and she wished she could rewind. Go back to the heat of his body under hers, back to the wicked grin on his lips and the rasp of his voice when he told her to ride him.

But there was no going back now.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at the phone for a beat too long, then lifted his gaze back to hers. “It’s your father.”