Off Limits (16 page)

Why am I so anxious to see him again? Why am I already craving a repeat of last night so desperately, when normally a single night of sex could sate me for a week or two? Of course, I’ve never been fucked like that before.

At the doorway into the kitchenette, I pause. Speak of—or think of—the devil. Max is already inside, a fresh cup of coffee steaming in his hand. And with him, her hand on his arm, beaming up at him, is his constant hip-attachment. Fucking Hannah, again. I resist the urge to scream as she bats her eyelashes at him.

“Pretty good,” he’s in the middle of saying, his eyes on hers, his tone light and friendly. “How about yours?”

“Oh, you know. Dull as ever. Though I can think of a few ways I’d like to liven things up in the evenings.” Her grin widens.

Is it my imagination, or is Max flushed? He’s definitely not pulling his arm away from her. Or discouraging that comment.

I can’t take it anymore. Much as I want to see how he’ll react to her on his own, I also want to lay claim to him. A sudden possessive streak takes over my common sense. “Hey, you two,” I say loudly, striding into the kitchen. I walk right up to Max and settle beside him, half an inch away, awkwardly close to Hannah, too. “Chloe.” Max nods at me, a tiny grin on his mouth, and just the sight of that small, private smile, made for me, fresh air seems to swell in my lungs.

How is it that whenever he’s away, I can only think about the dangers and the downsides to this . . . whatever it is we’re doing. And yet the moment I step into the room with him, all that anxiety melts away in the heat of the sensations that sweep through my body.

“Hannah,” I add, and smile directly at her.

Her eyes widen like she’s surprised I know her name. She doesn’t remove her hand from Max’s arm. “Uh, hi.” She shrugs one of her shoulders, just slightly, as if in greeting, and then turns back to her prey. I watch her hand contract, the fabric of his suit coat wrinkling as she squeezes his arm. “Anyway. So you were saying, your weekend plans?” There’s a hopeful note in her voice that makes my stomach curdle and churn.

His eyes dart to mine, though whether he’s trying to reassure me that he’d never agree to go out with her, or whether he’s just upset that I’m here to witness this, I’m not sure. Either way, it’s torture to listen to her, to watch her right now, trying to muscle in on him, and know that if I interrupt and fight for him, the whole office will catch on to what we’re doing.

“I’ve got plans this weekend, actually,” he’s saying.

I take that as my opportunity to sidestep around them and fill my mug as fast as possible. Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough to miss her peppering him with more questions.

“What about the weekend after this one?”

“Oh, uh. . .”

“Or just let me know when you are free, how about that?”

I steal a glance back at them, and Hannah’s still beaming up at him, oblivious. Meanwhile, Max has gone blank-faced and unreadable. “I’ll have to check my schedule,” he says, as he gently disengages his arm. “But speaking of schedules, I’ve got a meeting at the moment.”

A polite, gentle let-down? Or was that him letting her know he might be open to her invitation farther down the line?

Down, girl
, I order myself. Time to exit strategically, stage right.

“See you guys,” I say as I step out of the kitchenette.

“Wait up,” Max says, but Hannah’s saying something else, pulling him back into the conversation.

God fucking dammit. I knew this would be a problem, the both of us together at work. I just didn’t expect it to hit me so hard, so fast.

I walk back to my office as fast as my heels and the scalding hot, nearly full cup of coffee I’m balancing will allow. Once inside, I shut the door and collapse at my desk. Even though the coffee is way too hot, I take a deep swallow anyway. The scalding burn on my tongue and in the back of my throat almost calms me down.

Almost.

Is this what every day is going to be like? Constant freak-outs and jealousy and distraction?

But despite what he keeps telling me, he’s not exactly putting Hannah off. If anything, he’s playing his part to a T. He’s fine with letting the office believe he’s the manwhore everyone claims, and even if it’s all a lie, doesn’t he understand that it’s torturing me to see it?

Unless he enjoys this. Enjoys making me jealous. Enjoys making me want him this desperately.

I can’t play that game. I’m dancing too close to the fire already, and I will not let it burn me.

There’s a soft knock at my door, and I swallow hard, force my face neutral and my shoulders back, assuming business mode. “Come in,” I call, and my voice is almost even-keeled.

How much longer can I keep this up?

I
step
into Chloe’s office, and despite the reason I’m here, I can’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looks every inch as sexy as she did this morning. If anything, the way her blouse has rumpled slightly around the edges, her hair escaping the tight bun she pulled it into, makes her look even more attractive. Like she’s starting to relax as the day goes on. I want to pull the remaining hair out of that prissy little bun, lift that prim skirt up high over her pert ass and bend her over that desk. I want to watch her really let go, to surrender control as I thrust into her, claiming every inch of her body as my own.

Not why you’re here, Davis.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, my voice pitched low, while I’m closing the door.

“What are you talking about?” She cocks her head at me, dismissive, then shrugs her shoulders and spins her chair away from me. “I’m fine.”

“You just ran away from me in the kitchen,” I point out.

“You seemed busy,” she said, and I can’t miss the note of annoyance in her voice.

I tamp down a tiny bud of frustration. “I told you, Chloe, no one else in this office means anything to me. They’re my coworkers, that’s all.” How can she not see that? How can she think that Hannah, that anyone else here, could be any kind of competition for her in my eyes?

To my surprise, though, when Chloe turns back to face me, she’s frowning down at herself, not meeting my eye. “I know . . . that’s not the problem.” She runs both hands through her hair, which disrupts her bun even more, sending frizzies of curls in all directions. She doesn’t even seem to notice. “I’m not jealous, not really, I know that was nothing. It’s . . . it’s not
you
.”

“That sounds like a trite breakup line,” I joke with a half-laugh.

She doesn’t answer, and I cross the room to perch against her desk, reaching for her hands. “Hey. Chlo. Come on, look at me.”

When she does, her eyes are faraway, glassy. She’s not crying, but she looks more confused and upset than I’ve ever seen her. She’s always the poised one, the together one. I’m not quite sure how to handle the insecure side of her. It makes my heart ache just to look at her face.

“I just don’t know if I can do this,” she murmurs. “I can’t act normal around you here. I can’t pretend nothing is going on, but we have to, because— because it’s unprofessional, everyone would talk about us, I’d become another rumor on your rumor mill, and I know you said they’re not true, but people would talk anyway, and we have to think about our careers, and there’s the non-fraternization clause in the HR contract we signed and—”

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down.” I kneel beside her chair, keeping both her hands in mine. “Breathe. It’ll be okay, Chloe. We’ll both get used to this; it’ll just take a little bit of time, that’s all. Besides, people break that non-fraternization thing all the time. We all know it’s kind of a joke anyway.”

“But will our bosses think that?” She finally meets my eye, and her hands clench around mine. “I’ve put everything into this job, into this firm. I’ve worked my ass off for years to get to where I am, and I know you have too.”

I clench my hands around hers, because I don’t really have a response to that. It’s true. I know we’ve both worked hard to get here. On the upward mobility track, under consideration for partner. We haven’t talked about it, but I’m sure Paul has been grooming her the same way that Anthony has been prepping me to take over his role when he eventually retires.

“Don’t you think we need to think about that?” she whispers. But her eyes are pleading with me. Begging me to disagree with her, to wipe away that fear.

I can’t argue, not exactly. It’s a consideration, and a big one. But something about this, about me and her, feels too right to ignore. Too right to dismiss without at least giving it a proper try.

I cup her chin in one hand and tilt her head until we’re staring at one another, on level ground, me kneeling beside her chair. “I think we need to think about living, too, Chloe. Life can’t be all about work all the time. We need more from it.”

Her lips quiver. “But what if—”

I cut her off with a slow, deep kiss. Like it’s the answer she’s been waiting for, she slides off her chair to kneel in front of me, and I fold both arms around her waist, crushing her body to mine. When we pause for breath, I run one hand up her back to tangle in her hair. “No more what ifs,” I murmur.

“But—” she starts.

I kiss her again, longer this time. When we break apart, she’s smiling a little, if faintly. “What did I say?” I whisper, grinning myself now.

“You’re incorrigible,” she replies, her voice a low murmur as well.

“It’s the best way to be.” To emphasize my point, I catch her earring between my teeth and run my tongue along her earlobe, enjoying the way she shivers at my touch.

“Fine,” she sighs, dramatically, as if conceding to a great burden. Though she’s grinning even wider now. “We’ll try it your way. I will attempt to be less insecure and more normal about this. Could you maybe try not to be so damn hot, though?”

“No promises there. But I will attempt to be clearer about dissuading the ladies. That will be difficult, considering, as you mentioned, how damn hot I am. . .”

She rolls her eyes and punches my arm. “Keep up the cockiness. That’s helping deflate my attraction, definitely.”

“Hey, you saw the proof with your own eyes! I can’t help it if the ladies love to look.” I wink and flex a bicep.

She pinches my bicep with an appreciative smile. “I guess I can’t blame them either, to be honest. I’d stare too.”

“See, I knew you’d come around.”

“You
are
good at making me come.” She smirks at me, and I trace a finger down her neck, along her collarbone. I’m rewarded with another shiver.

“Tonight,” I say, “We’ll go out. A real date. Regular date. Something normal. You’ll see. We can be just like any other couple.”

My finger keeps trailing along her body, tracing the outline of her bra now, then dipping lower.

“I doubt any other couple gets quite this hot and heavy during the workday,” she murmurs, though she leans closer to me, and tightens her arms around my neck.

Given that encouragement, I lean forward slightly, tilting her back until we’re lying on the carpet behind her desk. My finger has reached her hip, her thigh, her knee. I slip my hand beneath that tight, prim pencil skirt and trace my fingers along her inner thigh, higher, higher.

She gasps and arches her body up against me, and I drink in the sight of her lying prone on her office floor. Prim and proper Chloe MacIntyre is the hottest goddamn creature on the planet when she lets go.

I reach her panties—or should I say thong—and a tiny little one at that. When I inch my finger along the length of it, I can feel that they’re already damp.

“Someone’s been a naughty girl today,” I murmur.

“Someone makes me wet just thinking about him,” she replies, those hazel eyes locking onto mine.

“He sounds like a lucky man.” I ease my finger under the edge of her thong, trace it along her pussy, first one side and then the other, circling my destination, drawing out her torture. God, I love watching her squirm.

“He definitely will be tonight,” she says, grinning.

That’s when someone knocks at the door.

We spring apart, Chloe scrambling to her feet, straightening her skirt as she goes. I dive for the chair on the opposite side of her desk, the one for visitors, and grab the nearest case file from a stack on her desk to flip open. I bend over it, pretending to be absorbed in the paperwork, as she strides across the office to open the door.

“Paul!” she says, and I hope like hell he can’t hear the slight note of panic in her voice. “Great to see you, hope you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Fine, fine as ever,” he says, in a doleful tone that sound about as convincing as when Chloe told me she was fine. “You two hard at work on the Suzie case still, I see?” he comments, and I turn toward the door to wave at him.

“Good to see you, Paul,” I say.

“Max.” He nods at me. “Chloe, I need to ask you a favor, I’m afraid.”

I turn back to the paperwork that I’m pretending to be absorbed in. Only at that moment do I realize that the case file I’m holding is upside-down.
Real convincing, Davis.

“It’s about the case you passed along to Rich, the Daniels’ case? He has a few questions we’ve been trying to sort out, that I thought you might be able to help with. I’m afraid it’s a bit urgent, if it’s all right to pull you away from your partner here for a moment?”

We both glance at each other, and her cheeks have gone bright red again. Shit. It takes me a couple seconds to realize that he means case partner, not partner partner, and I chuckle quietly to myself.

“Of course, no problem,” I say, speaking a little too quickly to try and cover up our awkward pause. “Steal her away. I’ve got enough here to keep busy.” I hoist the case file, and pray he doesn’t notice that the numbers printed on the cover are facing toward the ceiling.

“Wonderful. Shall we?” Paul gestures down the hall, and with one last desperate, wide-eyed backward glance at me, Chloe trails after him, the door to her office slamming shut on their way.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I drop the case file back on her desk. That was a close call. Too close for comfort.

For the first time since yesterday afternoon when I finally swept Chloe into my arms, I start to wonder if maybe she’s right. If maybe there are too many complications here.

But no. I haven’t felt this much promise at the very start of something in . . . well, ever. And I meant what I told her. Our careers are important, to both of us, I know that. But they’re not everything. We need a life outside of work too.

Tonight, I’m going to prove to her exactly how great that can be.