maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s exactly what I need.
I stand up, trying to hold back the smile from my face. Her anger at me is a bit justified, and a bit not. But I like the irreverence. I miss it. Crave it. “If you’re going to tear me a new one, you should at least look me in the eye while you’re doing it.”
I don’t care about the argument, but I want to see her eyes. That spark and fire that I can feel burning in my veins. She doesn’t look at me, so I circle the desk to her, the need to be close nearly impossible to resist, and I’m barely holding my body in check. “If you want to scream at me, scream,” I say. “I promise the soundproofing in here is good enough.”
The innuendo is intentional, and she lifts her eyes to mine. Immediately the air in the room feels electric, and I know that she feels it too. This close, I can see the way her pupils dilate. This connection between us is raw and real, and like nothing I’ve ever felt.
“What’s your name?” I ask softly.
“Justine.” There’s that breathlessness again. The sign I’m hoping means that this is just as overwhelming for her.
“Well, Justine, you were right. The cactus is a good choice. It’s something I’ll take home with me.” I see her swallow, like she doesn’t know what to say. Like she didn’t expect this kind of response. “And I’m sorry that I offended you by assuming you worked for Lila. I would like to know more about you so I don’t make that mistake again.”
Anger suddenly flares in her eyes. “Are you toying with me?”
I do smile now. “No, I’m not.”
“You must think I’m some kind of circus act or something parading around for your amusement. Or someone that you can walk all over. I know men like you. Obsessed with status and wealth and the size of their office and their bank account. You’re not interested in me. Not really. I’m too down to earth for you. I’m nothing more than something different. A new flavor. That’s it. You can’t change my mind and I’m not fooled.”
She raises her hand like she’s thinking about slapping me, and I catch her wrist. For a moment, my gaze focuses on her hand. There’s dirt there—maybe from working with the flowers. And calluses. She’s worked hard.
Looking back, her eyes are wide open on mine, and none of the anger that was there just seconds before is visible. Justine’s chest rises and falls faster. She’s right here with me in this moment, and it feels like we’re hanging in the balance. We’re going to fall one way or another. I want to fall into her.
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “Nothing I say right now will change your mind.”
She makes a small sound, maybe a word, but I don’t hear it because I am already kissing her. Nothing I said would have convinced her. Maybe my actions will. There was nothing in the world that could have kept me from kissing her, and as soon as our lips meet, the world explodes into fire and color.
Justine comes alive in my arms, kissing me back. A groan is torn from my throat. She tastes like mint and strawberries and everything sweet. But more than that, that undercurrent of electric fire.
Our tongues tangle together, and I’m blind with it. My cock is so hard that it’s aching even after coming twice this morning with thoughts of her mouth. I need her. A blind need driven by passion and connection that I can’t name.
We barely rise for breath. “Someone will come in,” she says.
“Not a problem.” I don’t stop kissing her as I move her across the room, flipping the lock on the door before pinning her against it. I run my hands down her curves and she moans into my mouth. Just that sound drives all the rest of my blood south. I want to hear it again, and louder.
I wasn’t joking. This office is perfectly sound-proofed. It was designed to be protective of sensitive phone calls, but it will work equally as well now.
Justine’s body is soft against mine, and I press my hips into hers. She gasps under my mouth, eyes suddenly flying wide as she feels my erection. God, yes. Everything about her is open and vulnerable and hungry. I want to taste her. Be inside of her. Consume her.
I kiss her again, running my