Page 68 of My Office Rival

Cynthia ran a soothing hand down my arm. Somehow, she knew I needed to be anchored when the dark memories threatened to drown me.

“What did you do?” she asked quietly. We were well past the house now, the stalks of corn shushing gently around us in the night breeze. I spread the blanket on the grass and pulled her down next to me. We sat there, shoulder against shoulder, her steady breaths and the clear night air making it easier to speak.

“This was just months before I left for college. The timing was as good as it could be, I guess. I changed my last name and just tried to survive until I moved into the dorms. I worked whatever jobs I could find—fast food during the day, bartending at night. I’ve never been more tired in my life than I was then.” Those days had been utterlyexhausting, but in some ways, peaceful. I’d been so drained at night that I hadn’t had time to worry about my past or my future. I had put one foot in front of the other until I left for college.

I was silent, waiting for her judgment with each erratic rush of blood in my ears. People in our world, the world of the mega-wealthy, they didn’t have pasts like mine. It was shameful, and I was an impostor.

“So, what you’re saying is, being a big firm lawyer is actually theeasiestthing you’ve ever done?”

I barked a laugh and turned to look at Cynthia. She smiled at me and slipped her hand into mine, squeezing lightly. My chest ached. She took all my darkness and wrapped it up in her light, in her humor, until it became easier to bear.

“Well, it certainly beats sleeping in a pay-by-the-hour motel. And that was on a good night.”

“You are impressive as hell, Jason Elliott.” The approval in her voice made my body come alive. The almost reverent way she said my name threatened to undo me. I gulped my beer and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

A noise in the corn broke the moment, and she shrieked and plastered herself to me. I laughed as she muttered that the town of Booth could go to hell. When she didn’t draw back, I ran a hand down her back, soothing her. Warm, willing woman slid against me, and I buried my nose in her neck. I couldn’t help it. She was so soft, right at that junction where her neck met her shoulder. The perfect place to bite, then soothe with my tongue. She shivered, and I jerked back. Her eyes were hazy in the darkness.If I kiss her, she’ll let me. She’ll love it.Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, and my groin pulled tight.

The moment stretched, every heartbeat seeming to push us together.Damn, how I want her.For more than just one night or two. If I kissed her now, there was no going back. Was I brave enough for that? Did she want it? Was it worth it? Indecision was a vise around my chest.

Her eyes shuttered a little at my hesitation, and she looked down.It’s for the best.

“Let’s head back,” I said. My voice was raspy, the damnable lust I felt for her overriding everything—my good sense, my ability to speak full sentences. She stepped away, almost reluctantly, and the ache in my chest was back.

41

CYNTHIA

Getting ready for bed was an awkward dance every night, but tonight it felt worse. Jason and I shared a bathroom, and unless I went downstairs to brush my teeth, we performed a delicate dance in which neither of us was in the same room as the other.

He walked a little louder on the floors to signal his presence. I banged on doors and heaved big sighs to make sure he knew I was leaving my room. We had careful dividing lines everywhere in our shared spaces. I placed my body wash on one side of the shower, while his shampoo took the other side. Even his toothbrush was as far as possible from mine. Ironically, the time we had the least amount of space was in the bedroom. Our headboards shared a wall. And ever since that night when we’denjoyed ourselvesthrough it, I was hyperaware of him.

Tonight, I had the bathroom first. And I could barely focus on getting ready. Not when the memory of his rough hands and his slick tongue came unbidden every time we locked eyes. Not when the way he had dipped his lips to my neck had made my entire body thrum with need.Turn around, sweetheart. I like to play.I shivered and brushed my teeth with more force than was strictly necessary.

Since the walk, he had left me mostly alone, instead choosing to stay downstairs while I got ready for bed. I couldn’t blame him.The stories he told me about his past.My heart squeezed. He’d been through so much and come out so much stronger for it. I finished brushing my teeth and doing my skincare. He’d be pacing in his room any minute now, waiting for me to finish. I poked my head into the hallway and scurried into the bedroom when the coast was clear. Tonight felt different, tense. Our revelations from earlier had left me a little raw, but also warm, and feeling too close to Jason.

I opened my e-reader and pulled up a murder mystery that I’d had my eye on for a while. A little blood and gore would distract me from his hot eyes and his wounded heart. I was just getting into the novel when the slide of a zipper and the thunk of his belt hitting the floor startled me.Damn, these walls.I could practically imagine him sliding his jeans over his lean hips, the perfect jut of his cock under the trail of hair on his flat stomach.Oh no.Now Iwasimagining it.

Should I escape?He was probably about to shower. Could I sit here and listen to that? And then listen to him get dressed? I squeezed my eyes shut. His expression from earlier had been so full of want. Why did he keep hesitating? I frowned. There was more to that story.There had to be. Jason was hiding something. But just because he kept hesitating, didn’t mean I had to.

I wanted him and his incredible mind and his perfect body. His fortitude and his rough pieces, the vulnerability he tried to hide, his insane need to literally run from his problems.

I was sick of waiting for him. He wanted me to lean in? Well, I was about to.

The shower water shut off, and I scrambled to wrap myself in the small towel I’d used for my hair, as if I hadn’t gotten dressed yet and I’d chosen this handkerchief-sized towel after my shower. I lay against the wall, breaths coming slightly short. I was about to break all our house rules.

The bathroom door cracked open, and I opened mine at the same time. Lake-blue eyes met my own.

“Fuck.” His strangled curse told me everything I needed to know.He wants this.His gaze traced greedily over my bare shoulders, down my legs, over the curve of my breasts, over the top of the towel. I ogled him right back. Water droplets slid down those cut muscles from the ends of his hair, those high cheekbones flushed from the hot water.

“Stop looking at me like that.” His voice was dark. The heaviness building between my legs made me reckless.

“Or what?” I raised a brow. He tensed. “You’ll devour me? I’m shaking in my boots.” A zing of anticipation went up my spine.

He took one step forward, muscles rippling. Then another. “I will consume you. Just like you’ve consumed my thoughts for weeks.” He edged me back against the wall. I wanted to lick the droplets of water from his skin.

“Stop me.” His voice was broken. His lips hovered over mine. Each word ghosted over my skin. “Please, stop me.”

42

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