Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,132

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“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Phade says as he taps the partition and then touches his chest.

Claudia's face instantly explodes into a smile as she steps further into my cubical. Turning to face him, she playfully slaps his hand. “Phade, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to, Chris—” he starts to say, but is quickly cut off.

“Claudia, Claudia Tanner, we met awhile back, I helped you fill out your information for HR.”

“Right, right, Claudia.” His eyes drift to mine as his voice fades. Phade smiles as he runs his eyes up and down my body. “Syl, you look nice today.”

I can see it in Claudia's face as her mouth parts slightly, and her eyes dart between us; confusion, disbelief—jealousy.

She's made it obvious to me how much she likes this guy and finds him sexy; just like every other woman in America right now.

And I fucked him.

The thought makes my thighs clench on impulse, sending a wave of heat through my body. In that same breath, my heart aches knowing that I've had what she wants.

All I want to do is slink down and hide under my desk. I don't like the way either of them is looking at me. I'm nervous and uncomfortable, and my legs itch to run in the opposite direction.

Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I adjust the planner on my desk and swallow hard. Sitting up straight, I try to act professional. “Can I help you with something?”

“I'm sure you can, you can always help me with something.” He grins wide, and winks. Claudia shifts her head between us, jaw crooking to the side hard as she lets out an audible breath.

Fuck, Phade! Don't do this here!

“What is it, Phade?” I try to keep the hiccup out of my tone, that little hint of nervousness. Claudia already looks suspicious enough, I don't want to have to explain anything to her here like this, with Phade standing in the background, gawking at me like a horny puppy dog.

I plan to tell her what's going on, but when the time is right. And now is definitely not the time.

He looks good today, a little too good in his fitted gray t-shirt that hugs his arms and shoulders, and dark blue jeans with work boots. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the sexiest shade of five o'clock shadow.

I can smell his cologne, and it's distracting. I can't concentrate with him so close to me. Rugged and strong, my heart skips and stomach drops. I'm blushing, I can feel the warmth in my cheeks as the blood flushes my skin.

No! Not happening!

I'm not letting him do this to me.

Phade steps into my space, his broad shoulders and thick arms enough to crowd my tiny office. Holding out his hand, he looks at Claudia. “I'm sorry, can I get a word with Sylvia in private?”

“No, she's fine where she is,” I answer quickly, not giving her a chance to say yes. I really don't want to be alone with him, not now, not ever. There's a weird blend of anger and lust that's filling my belly, and I'm not sure which one will win. “What is it? What did you come here for?”

Phade runs his hand over his head and sucks in a quick breath. “I have something I want to show you.”

“All right,” I say, shrugging my shoulder, “so, show me.”

His smirk deepens as his eyes glaze over with a sexy haze. “I love a girl who is ready and willing.”

“Phade, if you're just going to—”

“I know, I know, you're a very busy woman.” Softening his eyes, he lets his stare settle on my face. “But I really do have something to show you.” Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, he looks up at the ceiling, lips moving without sound. “We don't have much time, we need to leave now if we're going to make it.”

“I'll go if you need someone,” Claudia says, holding up her hand like she's in class. “I don't have anything going on right now, and Sylvia has something important to do for Daniel, so. . .”

Taking a second to look at her, he frowns. “Sorry, but I really need to show Syl.” Taking a firm step forward, he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of my seat. “Come on, we can't be late.” He starts to move, then stops short. “What are you wearing for shoes?”

“What?” I ask, confused by the question. “I'm wearing flats, why?”

“Good enough,” he says