Some people have nightmares that haunt them. Others have happy dreams and enjoy them. In my late teens and early twenties, my dreams were filled with my deceased mother. While they might appear pleasant, I hate them. They make me feel weak. When my dreams return, so do my demons.
“You look like shit.”
I glance at the rearview mirror, spotting Levi’s eyes watching me carefully, assessing my mood.
“A dream,” I answer his statement.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had one of those. Is Mom making more appearances lately?”
Though thoughts of my mother are never far away, I reply to his question, “No. It’s another woman who’s haunting me now.” I intend to fix that, too.
I grab my phone from my pocket and fire off a text to Neil and then I retreat in my mind, forming a plan for my first meeting this morning.
By the time we reach Holt, and I’m exiting the elevator into the offices, I’m prepared and ready to face one of my greatest challengers. I’m even more confident as I pass Neil sitting behind his desk.
He tells me, “Your nine o’clock is waiting for you in Diagon Alley, sir.”
“Thank you. Hold all calls.” I don’t check in to see if anything important awaits me this morning, because all I can think of is the task ahead of me. I draw closer to the meeting room, noticing that Neil closed the blinds as I requested.
I enter, glance down the long glass table, with the view of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance before my attention falls to the brunette awaiting me. Allie is looking far too professional in her black pantsuit and teal blouse for the conversation ahead of us and is chewing her lip. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
When I turn back to her, I see the blush of her cheeks and the way she’s not lifting her chin as she usually does around me. Yeah, girl…I haven’t forgotten last night either.
“Not a problem.” Her voice is curious and quiet. “Listen, before you say anything, I’m sure we need to talk about last night.”
“No, we’re not talking about last night.” I move to the head of the table, next to her, unbutton my jacket, and then shake the fabric off my shoulders, draping it over the back of the chair. I like how she’s staring at my every move as I roll up my sleeves. She’s wet right now and aching for me, I can tell by the way her breath is quickening and how she’s biting her bottom lip.
Good. That’s how I want her.
I take my seat. “But I will tell you what we’re going to talk about.”
A pause. Then, “Which is?”
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table and clasping my fingers. “We’re going to hash out why you’re refusing a date with me.”
She sputters a laugh. “You want to have a business meeting about why I don’t want to go on a date with you?”
I nod. “Tell me your objections so I can deal with them.”
She hesitates, crossing and then uncrossing her legs beneath the table. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’m very serious.” I narrow my eyes on her, loving the way she’s squirming in her seat. I can only imagine she’s remembering the way I touched her, kissed her, and how I stole the damn orgasm right out of her. But all I can remember is the smell of her, the sounds she made, and the warmth and wetness against my fingers. I want to taste her. I want to own her. “What’s your first objection?”
“Um…” She’s staring at me with wide eyes. Clearly, I’ve stumped her.
“We’re not leaving this room until you name your objections,” I tell her, more firmly now.
I need to explore things with her. I need answers before my demons overwhelm me. It’s too dangerous for Allie to be with me then. And every day, every minute, every second that I’m with her, she seems to be pulling that darkness out faster. I need to fuck her. She needs to let me quiet the beast.
“Okay,” she finally says, lifting her chin. “You’re my boss.”
I smile swiftly. “Therefore, I can make the rules.”
Her lips thin, eyes tight at the corners. “No, you think you can make the rules, but it’s my name that could get dragged through the mud.”
A hot flush swipes over my body, tightening my jaw. “Dating me is comparable to being dragged through the mud?”
She shrugs, holding my eye contact in the way I like. “You have a reputation that I’m sure I don’t need to point out to you. I’ve worked hard to get where I am professionally. I won’t risk my career like that.”