Page 85 of The Overtime Kiss

Her jaw tightens. Her eyes narrow. And I said she wasn’t mean, but I didn’t say she wasn’t fierce, since she levels me with a ferocious stare and says, “That’s none of your business.”

The fuck it isn’t.

“Itismy business,” I counter, my tone sharper than I’d intended. “If you’re seeing someone, it could affect your job here, and?—”

Her lips part angrily. “And what? A guy might stop by? You don’t get to tell me who to date, Tyler.” She shakes her head, the fumes of rage billowing off her as she pops up with a tight and crystal-clear, “Good night.”

She heads downstairs, shutting the door behind her with a loud and irritated click.

Nope. That won’t do. That won’t do at all.

I’m up and following her in no time.

Banging on the door.

Vision narrowed.

Focus tunneled.

Barely thinking of anything but…

She swings it open, tilts her head, holds her ground with a cool, “Yes?”

She’s hurt. I’ve upset her. I’ve been a dick when all I want is to be good to her.

That’s all I want.

I breathe out, letting go of two days of jealousy. “I don’t want you to date anyone. I don’t want you to see anyone. Because all those things you asked me for on your wedding night?”

She barely blinks. Just waits, stony-faced.

“I can’t stop thinking about them. I haven’t once stopped thinking about them. I replay your words to myself every night.” Like the fact that she’s never had an orgasm with another person. “I wish I could have said yes then. And I can’t stand that another guy might be the one to show you everything you said you were missing.”

“Tyler,” she says, like she’s exhausted, like she just can’t handle my going down this road again then backing up.

But that’s the thing. I can’t stand that possibility either. I forge ahead. “I’m sorry I was a dick tonight. But no one else deserves you. And I want to be the one to show you,” I say, my voice raw and honest. I hold her gaze. “Let me. Please just fucking let me.”

I’m begging, and I am not above it at all.

She blows out a breath, lifts a skeptical brow. “What about the whole pretend-it-didn’t-happen thing?”

I shrug, holding out my hands. “I can’t. I can’t pretend. I’ve never been able to pretend.”

“You’re my boss,” she says, but her voice is softening now, less wary.

I don’t want to pressure her, but I can’t resist her. I take astep closer. “You don’t need to go out with someone else. You don’t need to ‘meet so-and-so.’ You already said it, Sabrina. The night of your wedding. That you wanted to lose your real virginity with me. Do all the things with me.”

Her breath hitches, and I hold mine.

Hoping for her yes.

The silence between us is thick, charged. It’s out there now, impossible to take back.

She steps past the doorway, a couple inches into the hall, her blue eyes fierce.

She grabs my shirt collar. “Then make it worth my while.”

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