Both of us jump, eyeing each other with our breaths in our throats.
I had closed the door, but it isn’t locked.
“Just one minute, please,” Brigs barks, his voice cracking.
We frantically try and get dressed. I only have my jeans on, and he only has his shirt and underwear when he motions for me to get behind the door.
I quickly scurry over, flattening myself against the wall, while he positions himself behind the door so that when he opens it, the person on the other side can’t see anything but his face and a hint of his upper body.
He gives me a look, warning me to be quiet, and then slowly opens the door a crack, poking his head out.
“Yes?” he says. His voice is so calm and smooth it’s hard to imagine what had just happened.
“Sorry to bug you.” For fuck’s sake, it’s Melissa’s voice. “I was wondering if you had a moment to help me with the upcoming tutorial.”
Brigs’ whole manner stiffens.
I hold my breath.
“I’m busy at the moment.” He says this so harshly I wonder if it’s because he’s caught off-guard or if he doesn’t like Melissa.
“Doing what?” she asks. I don’t like the tone of her voice. It’s too prying, too casual.
“I’ll see you in class,” he says and immediately shuts the door, locking it. He leans against it, his head hanging down, taking in a deep breath. I don’t say anything, not yet, not until I’m sure she’s gone.
If he contacts you, I’ll report him, Melissa had said. Just how serious was she? I don’t want to find out.
After what feels like an eternity, Brigs moves away from the door, and my eyes focus on his taut thighs peeking out from beneath his dress shirt. The show ends when he yanks his pants back on, his brow furrowed in thought and worry.
“Is she gone?” I whisper.
He nods. “I hope so.”
“Does she come by here often?”
He opens his mouth to say something, then rubs his lips together for a second. “How well do you know your friend?” he asks.
I blink at him, caught off-guard. “As well as anyone. She’s not exactly complicated.”
He gives me a look of mild disbelief. “Very well.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head. “No reason.” He walks over to the desk and moves it back where it was. The place before he fucked the hell out of me on it.
Jesus.
I still can’t believe we did that. On his desk. That it happened at all. But I still feel raw from where he was pounding me, and the skin all over my body feels worn and bruised. I know I’m already different, lit up from the inside like a hot, glowing mess.
But…now what?
Brigs clears his throat, absently looking down at his desk. “Would you be interested in coming over tonight?” His eyes flit to mine, a shy smile on his lips. “Maybe have some drinks at the bar beforehand?”
I grin at him, completely charmed. “Of course.”
To say I’m giddy would be an understatement. I’m aware of what just happened between us, but the fear that it wouldn’t turn into more has always been skirting around the back of my head. Being with Brigs has the ability to become a full-on addiction, but this shouldn’t surprise me. All those years ago I was drawn—pulled—into his office like he was the moon and I was the sea at the mercy of my wild tides. Now that sex has been thrown into the mix, I’m not sure how I’ll even survive it.
You might not, a voice inside my head warns. Think of your therapist. Think of what Brigs is to you. Protect yourself.
But it’s already too fucking late.
“Do you think it’s safe for me to go outside?” I ask him, even though it’s at least been five minutes. “Or does Melissa stalk you like I do?”
He doesn’t smile at that which puts my hackles up for a moment. Then he nods slowly. “You’re fine. See you at The Volunteer at seven?”
“See you then,” I tell him, heading for the door.
“Wait,” he says.
He strides across the room with his long legs and grabs my arm, pulling me around and to him, his eyes simmering before he kisses me.
Brigs’ kisses render me obsolete, a hot breeze that threatens to sweep me up and away, to where nothing else matters but us.
“You sure make it hard for a girl to leave,” I tell him breathlessly as he pulls away.
He smirks. “Good.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Brigs
I can scarcely believe that happened.
One minute I was in my office, alone, licking my wounds, the next I was deep inside Natasha, fucking her on my desk.
Absolutely fucking her.
I don’t think I’ve ever been as wild and relentless as I was with her, which doesn’t surprise me considering how I used to feel about her. I would have thought there would be a cloud of guilt hanging over my head, telling me we can’t and that we shouldn’t. Any and all guilt was absolved the moment she said, “Kiss me.”