Page 3 of Playing with the Boss

Would he? “Oh my God. No. I meant where do I meet you for dinner?”

Mason’s lips flatten into a thin line. “Shame. I could have used the midday pick me up.”

My nipples have never been this hard—even when I used to freeze my ass off skiing with my school buddy and her family.

“I hadn’t decided where to go,” he casually informs as though we didn’t just discuss the possibility of foreplay in the copy room. “The others are meeting at the Lonesome Duck.”

“They have excellent Chinese.”

“So I’ve heard,” he says dismissively as he picks up his leather-bound portfolio. “I want to have drinks with you though. A Chinese restaurant doesn’t cut it for that. Not to mention the fact I’d rather have you exclusively to myself. Suggest somewhere else for us to go. You have five seconds.”

My mind goes blank. He tests me; I know it. And his last instruction had the desired effect—the threat of limited time has addled my thoughts.

“Delaney’s,” I finally splutter as he makes a move to leave.

Sharp gray eyes find mine, and a smile sweeps across his sensuous lips. “Excellent. Delaney’s it’ll be, then. I’ll meet you in reception at five sharp.”

“Here? You want to go straight from here?”

He frowns as though anything else would be unusual. “We’ll stop by my hotel so I can drop the suit.” His gaze lingers on the open neck of my blouse. “But you’ll do fine as you are.”

I’m left dumbstruck as Mason struts his biteable ass out of the boardroom, portfolio tucked in one arm. I suppose there isn’t any point in getting changed anyway. Not when the only dress I have in my possession sexy enough for that man is what he saw me wear last weekend.

For all of five minutes….