How is it that someone can bring out not only the shyest parts of you, but also the boldest? Right now, he has me feeling like a wide-eyed doe after not even five minutes ago being more brash than I’ve yet to be.
I’m swallowing back a sigh when the air changes so palpably that I can feel its relief.
“Olivia,” Brexton says my name so softly. “Look at me, please.”
He sounds so different—so sincere. I have to obey. My head tilts back, and when my gaze locks on to his gentle eyes, the tension between my thighs resurrects.
Something strong yet tender burns in the way he looks at me, and I swear he’s halfway smiling. “You can do it.”
“I—” I blink, dumbfounded, touched, stunned. Each of my nerve endings feels to have gone a bit haywire. When a response tumbles out, it’s half my normal volume, and the only thing I feel is this need to distance myself from his kindness. It’s too scary—too inviting. “I’m certain I can pull it off. Why are you encouraging me? I-I don’t need it.”
“Yes, you do.” He’s so calm, so powerful, and I can’t counter it. Especially when his vision lowers to my lips. “Softness isn’t my specialty, Olivia, but you bring out the worst in me, so cherish it.”
A blink later, and I notice I’m staring at his lips, my heart pounding so hard it hurts my rib cage. Cherish it. The words stir a hunger in me. What I’d give to taste that softness he’s talking about. Great. Just another thought to add to all the others I’ve been up against this week. Right now, it’s too enticing, and my tongue pokes out all on its own, wetting my lips.
Brexton’s broad chest strains for breath, and his jaw tightens. “Be mindful of what you do with that mouth of yours.” His eyes flicker with darkness and a heavy warning. “Teasing me in such a way is unacceptable, Miss Tucker.”
My heart flutters at the ominous tone. Those words comprise the kind of threat that the weaker parts of me want to fall into. He’d make me lose myself, and with all my stress, that doesn’t sound half bad.
But … life. My shitty life, always keeping me from the things I want. Taking away all the things I love.
I harden my gaze, throwing a wall up. “Consider it recompense for getting me fired.”
“Drop the act. You’re not that mad.”
He’s right. I’ll never admit it to him, but he is telling the truth, and I’m fighting a smile as he draws closer to my chair.
“You might miss your job, but you're not upset about being around me. I know that.”
I arch my brow in defiance, hoping he doesn’t take note that it’s a bold-faced bluff. “You assume quite a bit.”
“I assume nothing. I didn’t get where I am by taking blind shots, Olivia.” His low voice rumbles as he pockets his hands in his trousers. “I go off of what I know. What I feel, see, and decipher. That’s my specialty. And with you, I know I’m not interpreting any of your cues incorrectly.”
“And what cues would those be?”
“Join me for lunch and find out.”
Fever ripples in my clit and my chest thumps—my strength is waning. I need to leave. Otherwise, my façade will be broken soon.
Coolly, I close my notebook, holding eye contact. “Are we finished?”
“Leave if you can stand to,” he dares.
Something in me wants to pause, but determination wins. I shoot to my feet and move for the door, but I sense two cobalt orbs cracking with torrid heat against my back as I do. My fingers graze the handle.
“Olivia.” The utterance is dry.
It shoots a bolt of lust through my stomach. I dare a look over my shoulder. “Yes?” God, I sound more desperate than him, and maybe I am.
“Whenever you decide to surrender to us, I’m yours.”
There's no playboy here. He means it. The amount of willpower it takes not to drag him to the floor and explore every inch of him is heroic.
Instead, I nod and yank open the door. “Have a nice day, sir.”
Then I walk out.