Laurent walked into his office on Monday morning and stopped in his tracks. Seated in his chair was none other than Rose Blackwell, and she was smiling at him. It was enough to make any man uneasy.
Rolling his shoulders, he walked forward, placed his system on the table, and stowed his bag under it.
"Good morning, Miss Blackwell," he drawled, staring at her from across the table.
Her eyes tracked down from his shirt collar that he'd already loosened to his waist and then down until her eyes were at the point she could see above the table. She licked her lips and instant lust coursed through him.
"You look good enough to eat this morning, Mr. Ricco," she said and his eyes widened. Her words were husky and the look in her eyes was only communicating one thing.
He forced himself to look around the office. Nothing seemed out of place that he could see.
"What are you doing here, Rose?"
Her eyes narrowed in anger, which she couldn't conceal fast enough before she licked her lips and leisurely stood up from the chair and sauntered over to his side.
"Here in your office, or here in the building? She asked, tracing her fingers from his open collar down his chest.
He held her wrist to stop her movement and she pouted her lips. Whatever time she'd shown up this morning, it had been enough time for her to look like a vixen. For the first time, her face was made up, with emphasis on her eye and plump lips. Her hair was styled down her back and he was certain anyone who had seen her that morning would have had to go to work with a swollen cock. Her dress left nothing to the imagination; it was tight and showed her curves, with the sheerest material where she was supposed to be covered up.
He forced his eyes to look away. He couldn't remember what they'd been talking about. He licked his suddenly dry lips, aware that his body was responding as she wanted. This couldn't be good.
"Rose," he sighed and she raised her free hand to his face. Her fingers lightly traced from his cheek, over his bottom lip to his eyelid. He closed his eyes instinctively and felt a puff of breath on his face.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, opening his eyes to look at her.
The look in her eyes were no longer as seductive as before; instead, a small smile graced her lips and she shifted closer until she could rest her cheek against his shoulder.
"I missed you," he heard her soft whisper and his breath whooshed out of him.
He'd kept his expectations really low throughout the weekend, planning to go out of his way to avoid Rose. 'Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned' had been the warning that had run through his brain every time he couldn't help but think about her, and he'd known she might try something. He hadn't envisioned this, though. His heart ached with the fact that this was probably fake. She wanted something from him and she was going straight for the jugular, and it would be the height of idiocy to give in.
He gently removed her hand from his face and shifted back all of a sudden, making her stumble in her heels.
Tears filled her eyes.
"You don't want me again," she whispered, her eyes searing his.
He licked his lips again. Damn, she was a good actress.
He made himself take another step back and then walked to the other side of the table. Distance—yes, that was what he needed at the moment. Distance before he took her up on her offer and fucked her without caring about the presence of everyone else in the office.
"What do you want, Rose?" he asked, his voice coming out harsh.
In response, she crossed her arms so her hands were covering the gauze-like material shielding her breasts and her cheeks reddened slightly.
"Never mind," she whispered. "I'll just go then."
Then she turned around and walked to the door, the sound of soft sniffs carrying towards him.
'Don't do it, Laurent,' he warned himself grabbing unto the table, but his mouth wasn't in agreement with the rest of his body because a "WAIT" rang out of his lips.
She stopped, but didn't look back.
Since he'd already failed, he was going to have to complete his failure even more spectacularly. He jogged to her side and turned her to face him. Sure enough, tear streaks tracked down her cheek from her glassy eyes and her lips were tight together.
"Rose," he said, tortured and making no effort to hide it. "What are you doing to me?"
"I should go," was her only response.
He turned back to the matter at hand.
"What time did you get to the office?" he asked and her lips tightened even more. He could detect anger mixing with the hurt in her eyes. "Answer me."
"Why?" she threw back at me. "I offered myself to you, and you threw me away." The tears filling her eyes overflowed, and two drops fell again as she added, "This isn't the first time, the second time or even the third time. Please just let me leave in peace." She placed her hand on the doorknob and he grabbed her wrist roughly. He was feeling really confused at the moment, so naturally he turned to anger.
"Not while looking like a whore."
"What?" she whispered.
"You can't leave this office like this. You look like a whore."
She looked him in the eye for a few seconds before she burst into harsh laughter. "And so what? If you can still deny me like this, why not let another person who knows what he's doing have me?"
He ignored the irrational jealousy her outburst lit in him and clenched his teeth.
"Who else saw you like this?"
She placed her hand on her hips. "Why? So you'll know your replacement? Never mind, I'm sure he doesn't need tips from a man who can't get it up."
"Rose," he growled warningly and her hands went to the door again.
Anger, frustration and lust finally mixed and overflowed, and before he knew it, he was yanking her hand away from the door and turning her into him, taking her lips with a savage kiss. There was a brief moment of struggle where each of them battled for dominance before she submitted, melting into him with a sigh and grinding against him. Bliss, pure fucking bliss, finally.