“I said come in,” Viktor barked out, and her heart jumped.
She looked behind her at the stairs, wondering if she should just make a dash out of the office since he didn’t know it was her, but for some unknown reason she found herself turning the knob of his door and pushing it open. At first she just saw his empty desk and the lamp on top of it, casting a warm glow across the polished wood.
She took a step inside, looking around.
“Sir?” she called out, and when she looked at the couch he had to the right, she saw him leaning against it, a half empty bottle of liquor on the coffee table, and the glass in his hand empty. He leaned forward and poured himself another glass, and when he was relaxed against the back of the couch again he focused on her once more.
For several seconds all he did was watch her as he drank from his glass, and she felt the heat in the room intensify.
“Is there anything I can do for you before I leave, Sir?” Her heart was thundering a mile a minute, and she couldn’t understand why she was so nervous.
Maybe it’s because it’s just the two of you left in the office? Or maybe it’s because the way he’s looking at you seems so inappropriately good? Or maybe, just maybe, your arousal for this man is going far beyond your control?
Still he didn’t say anything, and she ran her hands over her skirt, her palms sweaty all of a sudden.
“Why do I make you so nervous, Karina?” His voice was slurred, but even if that hadn’t been an indication he was drunk, she would have been able to tell by the redness and glossed-over look of his eyes. He also wasn’t impeccably styled like he normally was, but God, did the disheveled appearance look damn good on him.
He didn’t have his suit jacket or vest on, and his white collared button-down shirt was open at the collar. He also had the sleeves rolled up, and she swore she’d never seen such attractive and muscular forearms.
“Answer me,” he said deeply, his voice holding the same command it always did.
She licked her lips and ran her hands over her skirt again. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and instead poured himself another drink. “You don’t know why I make you nervous, or you don’t know how to answer the question?”
She should have been annoyed by his comment and his tone, but she wasn’t, and in fact a part of her grew warm, wet that he was challenging her. “I don’t know why you make me nervous.”
He was silent for a second after she spoke, and she swore he had to be able to hear the sound of her heart beating. To her it sounded like a freight train inside of her. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and lifted it to her. “Want a drink?”
She shook her head. “No thank you, Sir.”
Maybe you’ve had enough, as well?
Of course she didn’t say that out loud, and instead stood there and watched as he brought the bottle to his mouth and took a long pull from it. She didn’t move, although she should have said goodnight and left. Karina had never seen Viktor drunk, and it was clear he was getting pretty intoxicated.
“I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left. I can see you’re set, so I’ll just leave.” She went to go, but the sound of him rising had her body tightening.
“Stop,” he demanded, and she didn’t realize how one word could hold so much power.
Not moving, but having her back still to him, Karina parted her lips to suck more air into her lungs. She heard him draw closer, felt his body heat spear into her as he stopped right behind her, and could practically hear his inhalation right by her ear. The scent of his cologne and of the alcohol he’d been drinking came from him, making her drunk, aroused, and feeling like she’d lost her damn mind.
It seemed like forever that he stood behind her, just breathing in and out evenly, but she finally felt him touch the side of her neck and move a piece of hair away. A shiver wracked her entire body, and she stopped breathing, feeling like this was probably so damn unprofessional and crossing some lines, but not having the strength to move or tell him that.
She liked his touch, even if it was soft, somewhat innocent.
“You smell so fucking good.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his commanding, deep voice, at the fact he swore because he either couldn’t control himself or didn’t give a fuck because he was drunk.
“You smell clean, like soap, but sweet like a fucking piece of candy.”