Only a handful of days until my next Forbidden Confession is live! Enjoy this snippet from Tempted by the Bosshole! #newrelease #SexyBedtimeStory
Glass in hand, I search the room again, this time more slowly, probing. Is my watcher one of the IT nerds discussing code and video games? Highly unlikely. One of the bigwig hedge fund managers, all with more money than ethics and a date way out of their league? I doubt it. Maybe one of the buttoned-up suits from regulatory and governance? As I pass, I make eye contact with each of them. But no.
None of these guys rev my heart or make me hyperaware that I’m a woman with needs Eric didn’t fulfill. This man… I haven’t seen him, but I feel his stare on me. He makes me giddy. Excitement tightens my throat. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Time to draw him out and get face-to-face with him. After all, Jen swears that the best way to get over one man is to get under another.
My innate caution screams that strangers can be dangerous and stalkers are bad. My body doesn’t care. It’s humming with a throat-gripping awareness I’ve never felt. Besides, he’s someone at my office Christmas party. How dangerous can he be?
Pretending to take in all the decorations, I circle the room. With each step and every breath, I feel his possessive stare.
A thrill shivers through me as I jot down my choices for the department decor prize, then drop the slip of paper in the box. I get a second glass of liquid courage and decide to lure my stranger closer…
Vino in hand, I stroll down a darkened hallway, toward my absent boss’s office. My stalker, if he wants me, will have to follow me where he can’t hide or blend in with the crowd.
My heart shifts into overdrive as I open the door to the mysterious Mr. Price’s domain, lit only by the moon and the city lights. When I glance down the hall, a shadowy figure of a tall man with wide shoulders and a fit form follows, his stride decisive. Confident. Determined.
He’s coming. For me.
Oh. My. God.
I swallow and shut the door in a fit of second-guessing panic. Allowing myself to be cornered isn’t smart. We’re far enough from the music and chatter that no one would hear me scream. He could cover my mouth, tear off my clothes. He could do anything he wanted, and I couldn’t stop him.
I should run back to the crowd.
But I don’t.
Moments later, a quiet click fills the silent office. The gleaming knob turns. My heart hammers. I can’t breathe.
He steps inside. Shadow falls across his strong face as his stare fastens on me. I can’t see his features in the dark, only the outline of his muscled form under his suit coat and the glint of lust in his eyes.
“Keep the door open.” My voice shakes.
Purposefully, he shuts and locks it. “I make the rules, baby girl.”
The authority in his voice melts my knees. My heart lurches and thuds. “Why were you watching me?”
I wasn’t braced for his growled compliment. My breath catches. “It’s the dress. I borrowed it from a friend and—”
“No. It’s you.” He saunters closer, like a man in control of his situation, of his life.
Of what happens next between us.
“Why did you follow me here?”
“Why did you lead me here?”
I can’t not answer him, especially when he watches me like he’s absorbing every detail. “I felt you.”
His teeth flash white in the dark. “Same. The second you walked in the door.”
Lust grips my throat. I should ask his name and what department he works in. Something. Words escape me.
“First and last warning,” he murmurs. “Say no now, or I’m going to f*ck you all night.”
My brain short-circuits. Men really talk that way? It’s not just a fantasy authors write into one-handed reads? Or maybe that’s how he rolls. His demeanor tells me he’s older. His blunt confidence reinforces that.
If he’s any indication, I’ve been swimming in the kiddie end of the dating pool, wasting my time with boys.
He’s a man.
His fingertips skate up my arm. “Anything to say? Is ‘no’ coming out of that pretty mouth? Or should I bend you over that desk?”