it feels deliciously dark and dangerous.
“I think it’s because the rest of my employees know I’ll never fuck them—but not you. Why do you think that is, Miss Parker? Because you don’t think the same rules apply to you?”
I’ve backed myself against a wall—literally. I stiffen as I feel the hard surface pressed against my back, but I can’t help noticing that Foster is right on top of me. He could have made his point without getting close to me.
He’s close to me because he wants to be. Because no matter how much of a bastard he’s being right now, he wants me.
I bet he hates that.
He says I’m the one who always gets what she wants, but what has he ever wanted that he couldn’t take?
Maybe just me.
With my confidence renewed, I look him straight in the eye, far from intimidated as he brings his body so close to mine I can feel the heat rolling off him.
“Why is it Miss Parker again all of a sudden? I was Chelsea just an hour or so ago, wasn’t I?”
His stormy blue eyes seem to darken, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I think I know why,” I tell him smoothly, affecting a tiny, knowing smile. “You’re afraid. I spooked you. You wanted to come inside tonight, Foster. You called it a date when you could have called it a work function, you picked me up when we could have met there, you couldn’t keep your eyes off me to save your life—you want me, but you can’t really have me… and you must hate that.”
Reaching out and grabbing a fistful of my necklace, Foster pulls me close. “You think I want you?”
He startled me grabbing me like that, but I don’t show it and I don’t even try to break free. “I know you do.”
His grip on my necklace tightens. I tilt my chin up to let him see his scare tactics aren’t working. Actually, all it’s doing is turning me on, and if that’s not all kinds of fucked up, I don’t know what is.
Rather than try to break away and flee like the fickle little debutante he accuses me of being, I double down. I push my back against the wall to make room for my hand between our bodies, then I reach down and caress the bulge in his pants.
“I have proof,” I purr as I curve my fingers around him, lightly scoring the fabric so he can feel my nails.
Foster goes completely rigid. He drops my necklace to brace a hand against the wall behind me, closing his eyes and taking a couple of slow, deep breaths.
Despite my bold gesture, my heart is fixing to beat its way out of my chest. My hand is still on his cock and he didn’t move it or tell me to stop, so maybe… maybe he doesn’t want me to.
I swallow down my uncertainty and start to caress him through his pants. He reacts immediately, grabbing my wrist to stop me.
“Don’t,” he practically growls.
I lick my lips and swallow again. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can he cuts me off.
“Don’t,” he says more forcefully.
I close my mouth and look up at him. His harsh features tell me he isn’t playing with me right now, that the warning is real.
“Don’t… what?” I ask softly, my gaze trained on his handsome face.
He was looking down while he carefully got himself under control. Now he looks me dead in the eye as he releases my wrist and takes a cool step back.
“Don’t play a game you’re not ready for, little girl.”
I don’t know if it’s his words or the way he suddenly retreated from me after being so close, but as hot as I was only moments ago, a chill sweeps over me now. I wrap my arms around myself protectively, not looking away from him, maybe waiting for him to say more.
But he doesn’t.
He doesn’t say another word.
I want to tell him I am ready, I do want this, but the words are trapped in my throat.
It doesn’t matter, though. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Foster has already made up his mind about how tonight will end.
With me standing here alone, feeling like an idiot, in my father’s study.
CHAPTER SIX
Foster
She’s pissed.
Really pissed.
But at least she’s a professional.
Last week, after my serious lapse in judgment where I nearly fucked Mason’s daughter on his own goddamn desk, I expected some sort of workplace drama. Monday morning, I worried