“No, it’s okay. I did say I have five minutes.” Sam smiled widely at me.
He didn’t need to worry much about the female investor. One flash of a smile like that at her and she’d sign up on the spot.
I remembered of the coat in my hands. “This is yours, by the way.”
I rounded his desk to offer the garment to him. Sam’s gaze settled on the coat for long seconds.
Why won’t he just take it and end this torture?
Then his hand reached out for the coat. His fingers brushed over mine as he took it from my hands and set it on his desk.
“So,” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Have you settled the issue with that biscuits advert?”
Phew! Formality. Excellent move, boss.
I returned to stand opposite him across the desk. “That was the most absurd part of the whole meeting. I cannot believe we’re taking this long discussing which colour schemes go best with both chocolate biscuits and milk biscuits.”
“Yours is the final say. What did you choose?”
“I asked the designers to create a mock-up with their proposed schemes and I’ll choose then. Why do you ask? Is the client asking for a preview already?”
“In fact, they did. They decided to move up the launch, so they want us to expedite our service in time for the new launch date in less than two weeks.”
“Doable. I’ll prioritize the project and inform the team.”
“Perfect.” Sam rose up from his seat. Picked up a laptop bag from under the table and began pocketing his laptop in there. He donned on his suit jacket, then the coat I just returned to him instead of the one on the hanger. “If you can send me something to pass on to them by tomorrow, I think our client will be more than happy.” He buttoned the coat single-handedly while he collected his laptop bag. “And then I could call you back in my office and congratulate you on impressing yet another client.”
“Thank you, boss.” I gladly accepted his compliment just when I noticed the coat was buttoned mismatched. “Your coat…”
On instinct, my hands reached out to unbutton his coat and buttoned it back the right way. Then smoothed down his coat lapels.
There, now he looked smart. And I was touching my boss again.
I could feel the warmth of his body on my palm, even through his layers of clothing. I felt him watching me and I was afraid to look up at him.
“My coat,” Sam set his hand on mine at his chest, denying me from taking it away, “smells of sweet vanilla. Just like you.”
I dared to meet his eyes. And I was trapped.
Sam set his laptop bag on his desk, used his freed hands to cup my face and held me there as his lips came down crashing on mine.
A surprisingly tender kiss. Softer and slower than last time.
“The sweetest lips I ever kissed.” His mouth whispered at my lips.
“I just ate an apple.”
“It’s not the fruit.”
His teeth tugged on my bottom lip. Then his lips strayed down to my jaw like a ravenous lion, leaving behind a trail of slow kisses down to my neck at just the perfect spots. His chin trailed between the collars of my shirt, grazing my skin with his rough stubble. His finger hooked above my chiffon shirt’s top button, intentionally or unintentionally flicking it open.
The sound of a gasp withdrew me from my trance as I realized it was my own.
I stepped back, away from his piercing blue-grey eyes, removing my hands that seemed glued to his coat. “We can’t.”
“I want to.”
“You shouldn’t want to. You’re my boss.”