Page 16 of Playing with the Boss
She turns with a sigh, glancing left and right to ensure we’re still alone. “No. You don’t. I led you on the week before, gave you an impression of me that was quite contrary to the truth. I can’t blame you for being confused about whatever signals you got from me.”
“Lisa—”
“No.” She lifts her free hand. “I had time to think about it, Mason. Can we… could we start again?” She frowns at my hesitation. “What? You don’t want to?”
“If we start again,” I explain, “then that wipes out the first night we met.” Her cheeks flush at what I assume is the memory. “And that was one hot night, even if we did get interrupted.” I chuckle. “I’d like to remember that if it’s all good with you.”
She takes two steps back into the break room and sets her mug down on a table. “This is what I don’t understand.” She turns to face me; hands clutched before her. “If you feel that way, then why not just say it? Why mess around with this whole ‘I can save your job’ bullshit?”
“Because I needed a hook.”
“A hook?”
I jam my hands in the pockets of my slacks to save reaching for her. “Something to get you to join me.”
“You think I wouldn’t have gone out to dinner if you’d asked as…” She stumbles over her word choice.
“As a date?” I supply.
Lisa nods. “I guess.”
“Would you?”
“I don’t know.” Her brow furrows. “Probably not, because although you’re not directly in line above me, you’re still my boss.”
“Exactly.” I close the space between us. “I wanted a chance.” She sucks a sharp breath when my fingers graze her jaw. “You knocked me off my feet in that club. Sexy as sin, and with confidence to boot. I didn’t know who you were then, but all I did know was that I needed a taste of you.” She searches my eyes for more—so I give it to her. “Like I need to taste you now.”
“Mason.”
“I can’t think about anything but you when I’m not working. Is that wrong?”
“No.” She inches closer. “Because all I can think about is you, too.” She smiles softly. “All I can think about is how I could have done this a little better so that Friday would have finished differently.”
“Hey.” I run my thumb across her supple bottom lip. “I pushed you to do things you didn’t want. Don’t go taking that on yourself.”
“I did want it, though.”
Hold the phone….
“We arrived at your hotel,” she explains, “and I knew exactly why you’d asked me out. I’m not naïve, Mason. I knew you wanted to finish what we started.”
“You did?” So why the fuck didn’t we?
She sets a hand on my chest, those gentle fingers of hers trailing a path down my tie, and then under the lapel of my jacket. “I wanted to pick up where we left off too. But I also knew deep down how risky it is to my job—to yours—if we chose to complicate things that way.”
“I agree. We’re playing a dangerous game.” I twist my head to check the way is clear.
“Without a doubt.” She jerks away when some guy I don’t recognize strolls through the door of the break room.
I don’t miss the peak of her nipples beneath her blouse as she moves for her coffee. In two long strides, I beat her to the mug and whip it out of her reach. She watches with a frown as I dump the drink in the sink, and then set the empty vessel aside.
“Miss East, could I ask for your assistance with something?”
“Sure.” She frowns, her gaze flicking to the guy who pulls an energy drink from the fridge without the slightest clue what goes on right before him.
“I need your help retrieving some records.” I catch her elbow on my way past and lead her from the break room.
“What are we really doing?” she whispers, leaning in as we stride down the hallway.
“Going to archives like I said,” I answer. “But I’ve got a few minutes at most; I’m due in a meeting.”
“Archives? For what?”
I give her nothing but a suggestive smile.
She swallows hard and walks faster. “This way.”