Page 27 of My Office Rival

“This.” He waved a hand, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’re practically naked,” he growled.

I frowned. “I thought it didn’t matter. Since we’re roommates and all.” I glanced over at the clock. “Oh, look at the time. I better shower. Sometimes it takes me…a while.” I sank innuendo into my voice. He shut his eyes briefly, as if in pain, and I wanted to howl in triumph. “See you at the office.” I strode out of the room, all too aware of my ass swaying under my shirt and his eyes following my every move.

I locked myself in the bathroom and started the shower, fumbling at the still-unfamiliar controls and wishing he didn’t affect me the way he did. I pressed my thighs together and tipped my head back under the spray. That clenched jaw, his rough words. I wanted to press my lips right to where it flexed, wanted to hear dirty words in my ear.Get it together. Calm, confident, collected.That would be me today. I repeated the mantra as I enjoyed the hot water.

I reached for my shampoo on the edge, and my hand scrabbled the empty air. I cracked an eye. No shampoo, no body wash, no razor.

“Jason fucking Elliott. I will kill you,” I muttered.

He’d moved them, like he was a little boy pranking me. I was not going to give him the satisfaction. I snatched his body wash and cracked the top. It looked designer, in a black bottle with gold letters and,wow,it smelled amazing. Warm, woodsy, spicy. My stomachtightened at the scent memory. His sheets had smelled like this. Hisskinhad smelled like this.

I shook my head, poured a sizable amount into my hand, and soaped. I repeated with his shampoo and then his conditioner, which luckily were not a two-in-one. Why did men buy that? In what world would conditioner do the same thing as shampoo? I looked around for a razor.He must have one in here somewhere.Preferably a new one, becauseew.I pulled back the curtain and spied a silver razor on the counter, with one shiny new head gleaming in the open package.Perfect.I smiled an evil smile. With each stroke of the blade up my skin, I felt calmer, more myself. Jason had no idea what was coming for him. When I was done, I ran a hand down my calf. It had never felt smoother.

15

JASON

Ipulled up to the nondescript office building off the highway before Cynthia did. I’d made a point of leaving before her. Keeping her on her back foot started now, had actually started this morning with her shower supplies.Until she showed up half-naked in the kitchen.Unwelcome desire burned low in my stomach.

I frowned as I crunched over the wintery grass, the weak morning sun filtering over the nearly empty parking lot and the beige building.I hate small towns. Give me crowded trains and slush puddles over this blandness.

I pushed open the double doors into an empty lobby. Beige carpet, beige walls, a handful of chairs. This did not look like a busy office. It was supposed to be our client’s headquarters.Odd.I frowned, but smoothed it away when Gene Delafonte came swinging out of the door on the right. Between the wide-lapelled beige suit and the gold chain, Gene looked like a movie mobster from the ’70s. He had a full head of hair, or the world’s best toupee, and he cut an imposing, if somewhat rounded, figure.

“Jason,” he said and shook my hand, his grip just this side of politely firm.Tough guy.Okay.

“Gene, good to see you,” I replied, my tone clipped. Asshole Jasonstarted now. And it was so easy to sink into that familiar coldness. I could practically feel the icy waters stifling my emotions, smoothing my demeanor.

“I’ll show you to your office,” he said and turned, leading me through the door and down a silent, beige hallway. Closed doors, no art, more carpet. This would be a long few weeks.

We stopped in front of a door at the end that looked like all the rest. “We cleared out a small conference room for you. Bathroom’s just across the hall, and Argan’s lawyer will be in the conference room at the opposite end. We figured better to separate you.” He gave me a smarmy grin.As if I would attack her just because she works for the other side?This guy was a piece of work.

“Thanks,” I said, and pushed open the door.

“Jason,” he added. I stopped. “We need to get the best deal.” His brows drew down. “It’s imperative. I will settle for nothing less. And we want this done fast. Mitchell is aware. We want to push the closing date up by a month.”

I nearly gaped.A month? That was lunacy. We were already going to work around the clock to meet the current timing.

“That a problem?” Gene asked.

“No issue. We’ll discuss a new date with the Argan team,” I lied smoothly.Yes, it’s a fucking problem. What was the rush?

“Great, glad that’s handled.” He gave me a self-satisfied smile and disappeared down the hall.

The room was small, but there was a window looking out onto the back of the building. Grass fields, air conditioning units, and endless sky.

I heard Gene give Cynthia a tour and show her to her office, probably the farthest away she would be for the next few weeks.If only Mitchell and Nisha knew. I grimaced. They could not find out about our roommate situation. Mitchell would lose his shit. My professional reputation would be called into question. For someone who already skated the thin line of respectability as it was, I couldn’t afford the partners looking into my private life. No one knew about the broken family I came from, no one knew why my answers to firmquestions about my background had been so vague.Yep, that’s right, mom’s a drug addict. Correct, I’ve been raised in three foster homes.No fucking way. Was I a little paranoid? Maybe. But I was so close to opening my own firm that I could practically see my name on the door, and I wasn’t about to lose it.

So no, none of my superiors could find out about our lodging arrangement, or the dirty thoughts I was having about Cynthia in today’s skirt suit. I shook my head, as if I could erase her, and shrugged on my suit jacket. She and I would be opening the due diligence this morning.Sitting across from her in a tiny conference room should be fun. I strode down the hall, letting my professional mask settle over me as I saw Cynthia coming toward me from the other end. I gave myself ten seconds to admire her curves under her skirt and the swing of her hips as she walked confidently in her heels. Ten seconds and then we stopped in front of the conference room door. Her hair was pulled up and her eyes were bright.

“Jason.” She gave me a curt nod, like I hadn’t run into her in the kitchen this morning.

“Cynthia.” I inclined my head.

“You ready for this?”

“I’m always ready.” I gave her a cool smile.

We pushed open the conference room door and arranged ourselves on opposite sides. I spread my papers out before me like a general going to war, and Cynthia did the same. I leaned back in my chair, waiting for her to speak first, and she leaned forward, elbows on the table.This should be fun.

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