Page 114 of Sassy Love
And I see you, ovaries, and you can just sit the hell down.
He follows me to the copier room, hands in his pants pockets, sleeves rolled up as always, tie crooked from him fussing with it the way he does when he’s thinking.
He turns back to shut and lock the door, and I realize how much I know about this man. It sends a jolt of joy tangled with fear down my spine. “The copier ate my mockup. I need it back.”
He chuckles and crowds me against the machine. At least in here, no one can see us, unlike our glass office that feels like we’re reality TV stars and the whole entire staff floor is waiting for a fight or for us to fuck and get it over and done with.
“First, this.” His hands take my face as his mouth descends over mine.
I open, unable to put up any sort of a fight when it comes to Lawson. He sweeps in, plundering my mouth, setting my body on fire. My legs widen automatically as he moves between them. My hands wander through his hair. He nips my bottom lip, and I tug on his hair, now messy from my fingers crawling through it.
God, I love him this way.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
No, no, that—this—is not happening. I push him away.
His brows fall. “You okay?”
“No. No, I’m not.”
I swallow and choke on the movement. I shove my face into my hands. Each breath starts out shorter than the last as I lean on the copier. It groans, a plastic whining sound, protesting my weight, and the floor hits my ass. Dots flood the peripherals of my vision.
“Dammit, Carlie.” Lawson is by my side a heartbeat later.
I can’t breathe.
“Laws—”
I claw at my chest.
“Breathe, baby. Come on.”
A strangled whimper leaves my throat at his soft tone. As if every action he takes and every word he says reinforces the overwhelming epiphany that just took me down.
My hands cramp, my face stiffens. What the hell is happening to me?
Thumbs rub over my cheekbones as he demonstrates deep breaths. I hold the blue eyes in front of me with my gaze, like they are my last lifeline.
“You’re panicking. You have to focus on your breath. In, one, two, three, four. Out, one, two, three, four.”
I haul in a breath and hold it before letting it go.
The tingling in my hands starts to fade.
“Good girl. Tell me three things you can see.”
“I—” He tilts his head, giving me a reprimanding look.Fucking bossy damn cowboy.“Paper. Disposable cups. Stapler.”
“Two things you can feel.”
My hands gravitate to his chest. “Heartbeat. Warmth.”
“Good, now, tell me one thing I don’t know.”
Pretty sure that’s not part of the grounding technique. “Nice try, Laws.”
