Page 6 of Big & Bossy

“Oh, calm down, Mandy.” I unbuttoned my shirt, keeping my back turned in a desperate endeavor to keep her from seeing my chest.

She didn’t need to know about the tattoo… yet.

I slid the sleeves down my arms before chucking the loose piece of fabric at her blindly.

“That stain won’t come out. You might as well just take my shirt,” I said, feeling the heat of her eyes on my back. I was bigger now, stronger, more of a man than I was at twenty-one. I was in the top ten of America’s Top Bachelors, actually.

I realized we were both half naked.

Alone.

In my office.

And how I found the control to stop myself from turning around and taking two giant strides to close the space between us, I didn’t know. I pictured tasting her, lifting her skirt, and fucking her right there on my desk.

It would have been wild. Needy. Fucking ecstasy.

Make-up sex that would make everything right.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, knocking me out of my fantasy. I could hear the rustling fabric as she slipped on my shirt.

Back to reality.

I stepped around my desk, one arm covering the top of my chest.

Her eyes moved quickly, her gaze darting from my pecs to my biceps to my abs.

She was checking me out.

And I could tell she liked what she saw. Her cheeks were flushed.

Was she also imagining me fucking her on my desk?

Was she imagining my hard cock inside her, taking her to the same place of toe-curling pleasure I took her to that night ten years ago?

My cock was clearly doing the thinking.

Within a split second she cast her gaze down to her lap. “I can’t have a meeting with you if you’re going to be shirtless the entire time.”

Damn…

“I’m not expecting you to.” I leaned forward, keeping my eyes locked on hers so she wouldn’t notice my tattoo as I opened the bottom drawer of the saddest-looking desk in existence. My backup shirt was neatly tucked in at the bottom, underneath a handful of papers and folders. I plucked it out and slipped it over my head.

“Why…?” She asked.

“What?” I plopped my ass in my chair as I stared her down.

“Why didn’t you just give me that one?”

I blinked at her as I adjusted the sleeves, my mind entirely blank. Something about seeing her in my dress shirt was too much, making it far too hard to think. A heavy silence fell around us, the only sound that of our combined, awkward breathing.

This was already not going to plan.

“Fine, if you’re not going to answer me, then we might as well get on with it,” she sighed, fingering the little holes in the sleeves where the cuff links had held it together. “Why did you have your secretary bring me in here alone? Why can’t I have Harry with me?”

I narrowed my gaze as I tried not to stare at the way her fingers worked, tried not to wonder what else they did in the confines of a dark bedroom. “Would you have preferred Harry be in here as you scrubbed your shirt of its stain in nothing more than your bra?”

“You’re not a psychic, Jackson.”

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