Page 78 of For the Plot
She stops, mid-step. Her head cocks to the side. “Game?”
“You stay late, you show up in elevators like?—”
“Like what?” Her voice is calm. Controlled. “Like your assistant? Who needs your feedback on something you asked for?”
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“You’ve been cold all week,” she continues. “But you watch me when you think I don’t notice. Your eyes follow me every time I leave a room. Every time I bend over to plug in your charger or set a file on your desk. You’re quiet. Polite. But underneath that…” Her voice drops a register, almost husky. “You’re wrecked, Mr. Blackwood.”
“You need to stop.”
She doesn’t flinch. “Stop what?”
“This… this game you’re playing.”
She blinks at me. Slow. Unbothered. “I haven’t touched you. Haven’t kissed you. Haven’t asked you to bend me over your desk.” Her lips curve as she takes a slow step forward. “So what exactly have I done wrong?”
I grind my teeth together. “You’re trying to provoke me.”
“No,” she says softly. “I’m trying to remind you that you don’t want me to stop. I see the way your hands clench when I walkpast. How you swallow hard when I lean over your schedule. You have a very hard time keeping your eyes to yourself, sir.”
I inhale sharply. “Maybe if you didn’t purposely try to test my patience.”
Her head tilts slightly, her mouth a decadent little smirk. “Then why do you like it so much?”
I don’t have an answer. And fuck, she knows it.
She places the tablet on my desk and steps around it slowly, never taking her eyes off me. She leans against the desk with one hand and pulls herself up to sit on the edge, just a foot from my hand.
She crosses her legs slowly, the black skirt riding high on her thighs. Not indecent. Not yet. But intentional.
“You closed a major deal tonight,” she says. “That’s a $900 million asset acquisition. You should be celebrating.”
I stare at her. “Was planning to.”
“Alone?” she pouts.
“Preferably.”
Her lips curl. “Too bad.”
She leans back on her palms, the stretch of her body making her chest arch subtly. Her neck fully exposed now, the line of it delicate, impossible not to follow with my eyes. I know what that skin tastes like. What she sounds like when I kiss it. When I bite.
“Skye.” My voice is flat. Tight.
“Reece.” She mimics my tone, teasing. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For what?”
“Managing your calendar so thoroughly through it all.” She drags her teeth over her bottom lip.
I stare at her. “You want a bonus?”
She smiles. “No.” She reaches her hand out, dragging her fingertips gently down my tie. “I want to see how you celebrate.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Don’t,” I grit.
