“Dylan, this is a pleasant surprise. I assume you received my package?”
I close the door behind me and cross my arms. “Yeah, cute pun. Do you have a minute?”
He smiles and I stumble a bit. “For you? I have several.”
Standing up, he gracefully moves his body around the desk and sits on the edge, crossing his long legs in front of him at the ankles and bracing himself on his hands. I shake my head at his cockiness. Damn it to hell. If he wasn’t so gloriously attractive, this would be so much easier. He stands before me in a light blue dress shirt, gray plaid tie and khakis, his hair a perfect mess and his green eyes freezing me where I stand. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to speak. I could speak. I had a lot to say. But right now, I wanted to either throw him down and fuck him right on his desk or slap him so hard across his face that he would feel it next week. Hmm, I could do both. Oh Chris, Dylan. No. Slapping him. That sounds satisfying. I move quickly, his eyes widening as I stop just in front of him and strike him across his face, a loud crack echoing throughout the room.
“Jesus Christ,” he almost yells, his hand coming up and rubbing his now reddened cheek. “What the fuck?”
“You fucking prick. Who the hell do you think you are?”
He stands up, towering over me in my flats. Fuck, he’s as big as a tree. “Okay, I probably deserved that.” His tone is sharp but he doesn’t sound angry. He seems more concerned than anything. “Look---,” he pauses, rubbing his cheek, “---I’m sorry I kind of shut down after the bathroom. I’m not used to sex getting to me like that and I handled it like an asshole.”
I see red. “Are you serious right now? That’s why you’re sorry? Because you freaked out afterwards?”
“Yes, well that and the fact that those men saw you in there with me. I’m sure they knew exactly what we’d been doing.” He steps closer to me. “Why the fuck else would I be sorry? I’m not sorry it happened. Are you?”
I push against his chest but he doesn’t move. Damn it, I need to start lifting weights. “Yes, I’m sorry it happened. I do not fuck married men, Reese!” I’m shouting now and my throat begins to ache but not enough to make me stop. However, his current look of confusion is taking away some of my fire. He’s a smart guy. Why isn’t he grasping this?
“Okay, that’s good to know,” he says with a furrowed brow.
“Great. Now you know. So stay the fuck away from me.” I go to leave but am stopped by his grip on my arm, turning me around to face him.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I step out of his grasp and look down at his left hand, narrowing in on his bare finger. “You asshole. Why don’t you wear your ring? Hoping to get your dick sucked behind that massive desk of yours by some girl that doesn’t know you’re married?”
His look stuns me. I had expected him to get angry with me for slapping him, maybe a bit disappointed in me for not wanting to pursue this any further, but the amused look on his face was not what I was expecting. He runs his hands down his face and laughs, stopping only when he sees my hardened expression.
“Married? Who the fuck told you I was married?”
I step back. “Juls. Answer my question. Why don’t you wear your ring?”
“Really? And where did Juls hear that I was married?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “What the fuck does that matter? From Ian. Who else?”
He grabs my hand and pulls me with him towards the door, swinging it open and storming down the hallway.
“Where are we going? Let go of me.”
“Shut up, Dylan.” My fighting is useless. He is clearly on a mission as he walks towards Ian’s office door, dragging my infuriated self behind him. “We’re settling this right now.”
“Settling what?”
“Mr. Carroll, Mr. Thomas told me to hold his calls.”
“It’s fine, Jill,” he grunts at the nice receptionist as he swings the office door open, pulling me into the room with him.
“Fuck. What the fuck, Reese?” Ian’s voice causes me to shriek and then I focus on what is happening in front of me. My eyes widen at the sight of Juls bent over Ian’s desk, completely naked and getting fucked from behind. Ian quickly moves and covers her up as Reese and I spin around and shut the door to keep the curious eyes from the hallway from getting a show.
“Shit. Uh, sorry, man. This will only take a minute,” Reese says as we both stare at the door.
“Jesus Christ, Dylan. I was so fucking close,” Juls growls.
I hold my hands up. “This was not my idea. Blame the asshole next to me.” His head flicks towards mine and I stare him down. Yeah that’s right. I said it.