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IF HEADS WERE GOING to roll that day, mine wasn’t on the chopping block. Not yet, at least.
It was six o’clock when he looked at me and said brusquely, “We’re done for the day.”
Not once did I ever learn just why he’d been late that morning—and he’d been nearly two hours late. Jake had taken me to a local hospital where Gallagher Enterprises was helping to fund a children’s wing and I’d had to run interference for Drake, answering questions, asking the ones Drake had noted in his file. Fortunately, I’d been the one to put the file together so I knew it inside and out.
The meeting had less than thirty minutes to go when Drake had appeared, settling into his seat without even looking at me.
I felt the dismissal like a cut.
And that had been the order of the day.
There was nothing discussed but business.
He didn’t look at me, except to discuss meetings, request information...basically everything I wished my job had been from the beginning.
Now he was staring at me with intense eyes as I packed my bag. “There are no meetings scheduled tomorrow until noon, when you’re meeting with your brothers,” I said, keeping my voice steady, thinking of the resignation letter. I hadn’t had a good time to present it. Did I just leave it on his desk?
He rose from his chair.
I tensed as he came around to stand behind me. He reached up and smoothed a hand down my shoulder, I closed my eyes. “Should I be here at seven or will eight work?”
He pressed his mouth to my neck. “Come home with me.”
“That wouldn’t be wise,” I said softly.
His hands slid my skirt up. “Why not?”
“It just wouldn’t.” He slid his fingers inside the waistband of my panties and my knees buckled. “Drake—”
“You went back to calling me Mr. Gallagher all fucking day,” he whispered, his lips against my ear. “Are you going to call me Mr. Gallagher when I’m fucking you?”
“You...” My mouth was terribly dry. “You can’t—”
The rasping of his zipper was terribly loud. “I can. And unless you say no, I’m going to.”
His hand urged me forward and I found myself bent down, face forward over the desk. “Yes or no, Shan,” he said and I felt his hands on my ass, spreading me.
Turning my head, I caught sight of us in the treated glass. As dark it was, it had turned the glass to a dark mirror and I could see him, the way he looked at me, the way he watched me.
“Yes.”
“Yes,” he muttered, his voice guttural. Then it was a snarl as he pushed the fat, rounded head against me. He slid a hand up my spine, closed it around my neck and kept it there, holding me face down. It was the most erotic sensation—I was trapped by him, surrounded by him as he fucked me and I loved it. “So fucking wet. So fucking hot. I’m not wearing a condom. I don’t want one between us—I don’t want anything between us. Tell me you don’t, either.”
My knees trembled and the muscles in my pussy clenched around him. “I don’t want the condom.”
He was asking for more. But that was all I could give him.
The hand on the back of my neck tightened. “Tell me you want me.”
Closing my eyes against the tableau playing out in front of me, I pressed my face to the cool wood of my desk. “I want you.” I’ll always want you.
And it was nothing more than the truth. But this was all I’d give myself.
He gave me one inch, then withdrew. Slowly, so very slowly. Fed me that inch again, and another, as one hand on my hip held me still and kept me from moving back on him. I wanted to ride him—the instinct to do just that rose inside me, but his hold prevented me and I twisted, uselessly, straining against him.
“Mine...” The word came from him on a groan as he withdrew again, and then surged deeper. It was a slow, thorough possession and the strength drained out of me. If it wasn’t for the desk that supported me and the strength of his hands, I would have dissolved into a puddle at his feet.
Drake seated himself fully inside me and I moaned, shivering around him, feeling the muscles in my cunt tighten, clutch at him as he held there. He just held there, not moving. “Drake, please...”
“That’s what I need,” he said. “I want to hear my name on your lips. I need to know you feel it, too, Shan. That you want me.”
He started to fuck me, then. Deep, slow, and hard, and I felt each thrust echo through me, the pleasure vicious, violent waves that battered at me. Consumed me.
That hand on my neck moved away, slammed down on the desk next to my head. The other gripped my hip, his fingers digging in. I lifted my butt to meet each thrust, working my elbows beneath me so I could lift up.
His hand tangled in my hair and he half-lifted, half-twisted me until he could fuse his mouth to mine. His tongue licked at mine and I cried out against him.
The orgasm slammed into me, hard, devastating.
It was almost as devastating as I realized the truth of his words... I was still his.
And it was so fucking unfair.
I was always going to be.
But he would never be mine.
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HIS PHONE RANG.
It was one of those calls that he wouldn’t take around me. It was his family, I suspected.
While he slid out of the room, still adjusting his clothes, I smoothed my skirt down. My heart, bruised and aching, gave a feeble beat against my ribs.
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the letter of resignation, stared at it. The pleasure that had burned inside me just moments ago already felt like ashes.
There was a quiet sound and I looked up, found him standing in the doorway.
“I have to leave town,” he said, his voice sharp.
I blinked at him. “Leave?” I echoed.
“It’s unavoidable. Micah Coltrane—he used to head the offices here—is flying in to take over while I’m gone. You’ll work with him until I’m back.”
“Is...” I stared at the resignation. “Is there anything I can do?”
He had already dismissed me, his attention focused on whatever information he’d received just moments ago. “No. It’s family business.” Then, abruptly, his eyes cleared and he looked back at me.
Casually, I turned the resignation over and placed it face down as he strode toward me. He placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head back.
“I love the way you look in red,” he murmured. “It suits you.”
He kissed, soft and sweet. Then he was gone, long fast strides carrying him away from me.
I looked back at the resignation.
I’d hold it for a few days, make sure everything ran smoothly as this Micah Coltrane settled into place.
But I wouldn’t be here when Drake came back.
Part Two