Goddamn it, Brianna.
Pushing the door handle down, I slip inside the room.
The second the door clicks closed behind me, I struggle to suck in the air I need.
He’s not even here yet and I’m already freaking the hell out.
The bell rang as I was walking here, and my heart beats out of rhythm as I lay out everything we need, anxiously waiting for that door to open.
Melissa booked this room for him so I have no doubt that he’ll be directed down here the second he turns up—should he turn up, that is.
There’s every chance that he’ll have taken one look at the request, screwed it up and tossed it in the bin.
Or would he have suspected that I might be behind that note?
If he does, I have every confidence that he’ll show his face, probably just late to ensure I’m already pissed off before he graces me with his presence.
Nine minutes and forty-three seconds.
That’s how long I sit there questioning my terrible, terrible decisions when it comes to Nico Cirillo before the door handle twists and my heart jumps into my throat at the same time my stomach sinks to my knees.
The second he steps into the small room, I swear he sucks all the air out of it.
Just like yesterday, he’s shed his blazer and stands before me in just his fitted white shirt with his sleeves rolled up his strong arms and his tie loose around his collar. His shirt is tucked into a pair of slim-fit trousers which are tight enough to tease me with what I know is hiding beneath, and I don’t just mean his solid thighs.
“Well well well, what do we have here? Mrs. Hendrix sent the lackey, huh?” He prowls closer, his tempting scent filling my nose and making the butterflies that are already going crazy in my stomach begin to riot.
“Mrs. Hendrix had nothing to do with this,” I confess.
“Oh,” he says, one side of his mouth kicking up in a smirk. “So you needed an excuse to get me alone? Missing me, Miss Andrews?”
I watch his every step as he moves closer, but eventually he closes in behind me, proving that I made a stupid mistake in choosing this seat.
“N-no, I—” My gasp of shock rips through the air when his large, burning-hot hands land on my shoulders and I’m wrenched backward.
The front two chair legs leave the floor, my knees skimming the edge of the table as I have little choice but to surrender to his mercy.
Swallowing down my unease, I look up.
My breath catches once again when I find his dark, angry eyes boring down into mine.
“Admit it, Miss Andrews. It’s been three days and you’re desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”
“Nico.” I want it to come out like a warning, but even I can admit that it misses the mark by a mile.
He chuckles, hearing it exactly like I do, and my cheeks heat.
“Do you think Mrs. Hendrix has any idea what a filthy little whore you are, Siren?”
“Nico, stop,” I beg, my breathing increasing as my frustration levels soar.
He pauses, his eyes searching mine before they drop to my lips.
His tongue sneaks out, swiping over his full bottom lip before they drop lower.
My nipples pebble behind the confines of my bra and satin shirt, and I just pray the fabric is enough to hide my visceral reaction to him.
“I really hope you haven’t been leaning over any students’ desks today, Miss Andrews.”