The kiss at her door was just as intense as the first and ultimately led to my decision not to call her Sunday. I spent the day dealing with my desire in order to be better prepared for Monday morning.

  It was a better idea in theory than actuality.

  I jerked off enough times to feel totally prepared for the bombardment of lust I felt when I saw her Monday morning. I had replayed the kisses enough times in my mind that I was sure I wouldn’t be swept up with the desperate need to press my lips to hers in the office. I also arranged for her to report to Janice first thing so I could at least get some work done that day instead of pining after Mallory all fucking day.

  Lunch rolled around and I felt ready. One hundred percent.

  The one thing I wasn’t prepared for was something I never could have foreseen. After all, I couldn’t remember ever succumbing to the emotion before. It was unmistakable, though.

  Jealousy.

  I was heading to the break room and rounded the corner only to have my eyes immediately locked on Mallory’s form—and it was pressed against the wall while my nephew lingered over her. He was leaning down and whispering something while her wide eyes darted around in search of an exit.

  It wasn’t her fault. I knew it wasn’t, which was why my anger was directed at the little shit who thought he could step in on my territory. I stole another glance at Mallory’s face, noticing the bit of extra makeup she wore—those damn pink lips again—and the fact that her hair was down for the first time at work.

  She dolled herself up for me. And this prick thought it was for him.

  Barely suppressing the urge to snarl, I stalked forward and ripped his arm from the wall beside her head. The look of relief on her face barely registered. I was far too focused at glaring down my nephew.

  “Have you already forgotten the conversation we had in my office?” I ground between clenched teeth. “Or do you want to be fired for harassment?”

  “Uncle Brian—”

  “Go.”

  Jeremy’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he slowly backed away, shooting an apologetic glance at Mallory before disappearing into the break room.

  Once we were alone, she sighed and whispered, “Thank you. He just said he wanted to talk and—”

  “My office,” I hissed, interrupting her and ignoring her wide eyes. “Now.”

  The tension refused to leave my body despite all my efforts as I followed her down the hall. Her shoulders were squared with confidence, but the light shake in them belied her nervousness.

  She had no idea what was about to happen.

  Neither did I.

  I wasn’t gentle about slamming the door shut behind me and when she tried to open her mouth to speak, the loud click of the lock flipping caused her mouth to snap shut. We stared at each other for what felt like a long time—her with wide, confused eyes and me with narrowed slits, my breathing completely out of control.

  “Brian?” she softly questioned. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sweet sound of her voice. “Are you okay?”

  No. I wasn’t okay. Especially not when I felt her hesitant touch on my shoulder. It felt like jolts of electricity shot through my body. I’d never felt anything like it. Not with anyone but her.

  Take her. Now.

  The need was too strong. I couldn’t ignore it. I had to act.

  With a growl, I yanked her against me and smashed my lips against hers. A muffled moan barely cut through the fog of lust and registered in my brain. A moan of surprise and desire—not of protest.

  It was all the confirmation I needed to lift her right off the floor and blindly walk to my desk. When we hit resistance, I broke away from her lips and sat her on the edge, pausing only long enough to hike her skirt up so I could spread her legs and step between them.

  Mallory whimpered, breaking off to a moan when I pressed my hard cock directly against the thin cotton covering her core. I ground against her like a fucking animal, taking pride in the womanly gasps she emitted as well as the way she shuddered when I took her bare thighs in my hands and directed her legs to wrap around me.

  As I kissed her again, something in the back of my mind registered that some of her shaking was out of fear. It was clear to me that she was in deep enough to let me do whatever I wanted, but the fact remained—she wasn’t ready.

  Tell me to stop, I desperately thought as I forced myself away from her lips and buried my face against her neck while I continued rutting against her. Please tell me to stop.

  I must have spoken aloud because her shaky voice replied, “N-no.”

  “Fucking hell,” I groaned before her hands cupped my cheeks and pulled me back up.

  Her face was flushed with desire and her pink lip gloss was smeared all around her mouth. Her hair was askew from my hands running through it at some point.

  She looked just like I imagined her looking post-sex and we hadn’t even gotten that far. She looked wrecked. I imagined that I looked similar, only in a far more crazed way. It certainly felt that way.

  The little bit of self-control I had left was on the verge of snapping when her chin tilted up and she kissed me. My eyes stayed open and I watched hers close as she gently moved against me.

  The hunger of my kiss was a lot different than the sweet naivety of hers. The message she was trying to get across was clear—and ultimately what pulled me back from the edge.

  I meant something to her. I was the most important. Just like I wanted to be.

  It took only a split second for me to recognize that in the short time I’d known her, she’d also become the most important to me. I allowed my eyes to fall shut and kissed her back just as tenderly as she did, only pulling away when I felt her hands beginning to trail down my chest.

  It took all my strength to take the one step that separated our bodies. I missed her warmth immediately.

  “I’m sorry,” I said roughly, clearing my throat as I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mallory nodded and wiped at her ruined lip gloss before she whispered, “I know.”

  “I almost… Fuck.”

  “It’s okay. You stopped.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Barely.”

  She eased herself off the desk and smoothed down her skirt. Though she made a solid effort to hide it, I could see her hands shaking as she did so and it felt like I took a solid punch to the gut.

  “I could have pushed you away. I didn’t. You don’t have to—”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t… act like I’m some sort of saint for regaining control at the last second. We both know I didn’t want to stop.”

  “But you did.”

  Her voice was small and so was the smile she gave me. I wanted to take comfort in it—in her—but I couldn’t. I was ashamed by how easily I lost myself over something so trivial.

  “You should have lunch. I need to be alone.” Mallory opened her mouth to protest and I interrupted by pressing a finger to her lips. “Go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Feeling her lips form to press a kiss to my finger was the last blow. Guilt and shame swirled around in my stomach, completely killing my appetite—both for food and sex.

  Hours later, the feeling still hadn’t gone away.

  9

  Mallory

  He was avoiding me.

  I completely understood the reason behind it. Whether he would admit it aloud or not, it was obvious that he felt guilty about pushing me so hard in his office.

  I’d had days to mull over the entire experience over and over again and I still couldn’t believe I had come so close to losing my virginity on his desk. Because in that moment—nothing else had mattered to me except him.

  I couldn’t say how I would’ve ended up feeling once it was over, but I imagined it was similar to how awful he must have felt now. That was the reason I forced myself to give him space when all I wanted to do every day was run to his office and beg him to take me on another date or at least kiss me again.

  It was torture when Friday came to an end and he still hadn’t summoned me. During the ride to my apartment, I typed out several texts to him only to delete every single one.

  It was nearly impossible for me to describe what I was thinking in words, let alone type them into a short, coherent text message.

  In the shower, my frustration with the situation grew. Not only because he was avoiding me, but because I could no longer figure out what I wanted.

  The truth was, I wanted him. I wanted Brian. What I felt when I was with him was everything I’d been hoping to find, only I wasn’t sure enough to call it love just yet.

  Was the passion I felt when he touched me enough to be sure I wouldn’t regret letting him be my first? Could one even feel this level of passion without there being some sort of love underneath?

  I had no experience to draw from and that made me more frustrated than anything else. I wanted to ask Brian how he felt, but I’d never get a chance to do it if he couldn’t get over what happened enough to actually speak to me again.

  Just as I was about to twist off the knob to the shower, I was struck by an idea. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but it was the only thing I could think of that wouldn’t lead to me cleaning the entire apartment yet again in an anxiety-ridden panic.

  On our second date, Brian had taken me to a small restaurant for lunch after our helicopter tour of the city. He mentioned stopping there frequently because he lived just down the road, pointing out his building when we passed it on the way back to my apartment.

  If I could get to that restaurant, I could walk to his house. I still remembered the green awning and the glass door.

  Instead of getting out, I reached for the razor and proceeded to shave off any stubble on my legs. Once I finished that, I moved up—hesitating with the blade over my bikini line.

  Was I really going to do this? I had no idea how he would respond to me just showing up at his place out of the blue and preparing myself accordingly might turn out to be a fruitless endeavor.

  The horrifying thought of being told to leave by his doorman popped into my head, but I shook it away with a huff. No. I couldn’t accept defeat before I even tried.

  I carefully cleaned up my bikini line and got out of the shower. I toweled myself off on the way to my closet where I dug out the white dress I wore on our first date. It took me most of the night to realize it, but I knew how much Brian liked it.

  Once I had almost perfectly recreated my appearance from that night, I pulled a few bills from the cab money collection I’d been building up and headed out.

  Now or never.

  10

  Brian

  For a man with no regrets, I certainly fell into the groove of sulking and beating myself up pretty fucking fast.

  It was a whole new experience for me. I’d feel too guilty in my office to talk to her at work and by the time I got home and started boosting myself back up, the desire for her came back which led to a fresh feeling of shame.

  At night, I’d replay it in my head. I’d dream about not stopping—about taking her right there on the desk.

  Some mornings, I’d wake up and jerk off to the imagined sound of her coming. But every now and then, the dreams would take a darker turn—becoming a nightmare that renewed my effort to stay away from her.

  After the sun went down on Friday night, I did something I hadn’t done in quite a while. I went into my library and bypassed all the books, heading straight to the cache of whiskey I had tucked away for a rainy day.

  I was searching for a tumbler when the buzzer rang. It was a common occurrence considering how often I ordered out, but I already ate. Curious, I left the whiskey behind and walked to my living room just as the noise rang out again.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s a visitor for you, Mr. Wolfe.”

  My finger hovered over the button as my eyes narrowed.

  “Is it a young guy with blonde hair?” I asked, referring to my nephew. “Get rid of him.”

  I’d already dismissed both my nephew and the doorman and turned to walk away when the box crackled to life again.

  “No, sir. It’s a woman. She says her name is Mallory Jones.”

  Of all the people in the world, she was the one I least expected to show up at my door. The memory of pointing out my building to her as we rode by popped into my head. I guess she had enough of my self-flagellation.

  “Mr. Wolfe?”

  “Send her up.”

  I combed my fingers through my hair as I went to the door and opened it, stepping out in the hallway and waiting for the elevator doors to slide open.

  When they finally did, I felt my pulse jump. She looked like a damn angel—exactly like she did on our first date.

  “What are you doing here?” I forced out, clearing my throat in a vain attempt to mask the breathlessness of my tone.

  “You didn’t give me much of a choice,” she said with a half-shrug as she slowly approached. “We need to talk. Can I come in?”

  She gestured at my open door and I nodded, shoving it open and inhaling deeply as she brushed by. The scent of her hair made my blood rush south.

  Once the door clicked shut, she spun around and blurted, “I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I didn’t know what else to do and I didn’t want to corner you at work.”

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  “Would you have answered?”

  “Probably not,” I admitted with a heavy sigh. “But not for the reason you probably think.”

  Her eyebrows raised and a wry smile pulled at her lips. “No? So you aren’t avoiding me out of guilt for nearly having sex with me in your office?”

  I blinked multiple times before I finally choked out, “Well, yes. But you say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is because you have no reason to feel guilty, Brian.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said as I shook my head, stepping back when it looked like she was going to come closer. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me. Don’t I at least deserve that?”

  “Mallory, you deserve everything,” I whispered before hanging my head and laughing humorlessly. “I completely lost control. You saw it. That’s never happened to me before. All I could think about was fucking you and I almost did.”

  “You seem to keep forgetting that I didn’t stop you. You told me to tell you to stop and I didn’t. I wanted you. I still do.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  Mallory’s fingers touched my chin and I tilted my head up, staring down into her eyes as she studied me with a frown. After a long moment, she shook her head and withdrew her hand.

  “There’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

  “You have no idea just how far gone I was, Mallory. And I’ve been... I’ve been having nightmares where I didn’t regain control. Ones where you did ask me to stop and... I didn’t.”

  Her eyes softened after my confession and I felt rather than saw her hand seek out mine. I glanced down in surprise at our intertwined fingers then back up just in time to see her smile.

  “Do you care about me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then if I had asked you to stop, you would have.”

  There was no doubt in her voice and her smile merely grew while I stared at her in confusion. She seemed so damn sure of her assessment that it finally started to seep into my brain.

  I wasn’t the man in my nightmares and no matter how lost on her I got, the fact remained that I had stopped myself. I didn’t even need her to push me away.

  And here she was, giving me permission to put it past us. Hell, her eyes were practically begging for it.

  “For whatever it’s worth, I forgive you. Not that you did anything that I really need to forgive you for, but—”

  “But I appreciate it,” I interrupted, taking her other hand in my free one and bringing it to my lips. I kissed her palm and her knuckles before lowering it down as I whispered, “Thank you.”

  She smiled again and I felt myself returning it, the emotions of the past few days melting away. After a few moments, I realized we would be in dangerous territory staying here if she was hoping for a third date, so I pulled away.

  “Would you like to go out for dinner? I already ate, but I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.”

  “I had dinner at home.”

  “Coffee?”

  “No, thank you.”

  There was an awkward pause and I felt my shoulders tensing up as I searched for alternatives. Anything that would get us out of my apartment.

  “Movie? Drinks? Hell, I can try to find a bowling alley if you—”

  “Can we just stay here?”

  Exactly the scenario I was trying to avoid. She looked too good and smelled fucking amazing and my bed was so, so close...

  Mallory licked her lips and tilted her head back, getting a look in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in them before. I held my breath as I waited for her to speak.

  “I care about you a lot,” she said slowly, her eyes watching my throat when I swallowed roughly. “I’d like to have our third date here.”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  She sucked in a breath before letting it out slowly, taking a moment to gather herself before she looked me in the eye and said, “I want to spend the night.”

  11

  Mallory

  For a moment that felt far longer than it probably was, there was no reaction. Nothing but a blank stare and a sharply inhaled breath.

  Finally—finally—his throat bobbed just before he blew out the breath he’d been holding and slowly stated, “If you stay the night here, you won’t be leaving with your virtue intact. I’m not that strong of a man.”

  “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty strong,” I said, half as a joke to ease the tension and half seriously as I reached up to touch his bicep. “At least it felt that way when you picked me up.”

  I squealed in surprise when he abruptly moved to do it again, clutching at his shoulders as the ground vanished beneath my feet. It was the reaction I was hoping for, but I was startled by how quickly he moved.