CHAPTER THREE

When they pulled up to Bridgeway Enterprise, it was a little after midnight. Leah had never seen the building at this time of night. Though she'd often found herself working outside her usual 9-5, those instances were only when Mrs. Umble was unavailable for business dinners or some other social gathering.

Except for the ground floor and the top floor, the sleek skyscraper was unlit.

Bevon was again unsuccessful in opening his boss's door and Leah felt obligated to send him an apologetic smile.

One of the two security guards at the front of the building greeted them and opened the door which led to the lobby. The first floor of the building contained the main reception area and a variety of security and emergency outlets. There were such outlets every ten floors and six in total. There were two additional security guards visible at the main reception area and Leah waved hello as she hurried behind Noah towards his private elevator. The elevator required a special code that only he, his assistants, and his brothers had and it opened directly to the 60th floor where his office was located.

The lift to the 60th floor felt eternal and the tension was only amplified by the silence and the insistent throbbing between her legs which was becoming harder and harder to ignore the longer they remained in such close quarters.

Leah was convinced something was wrong with her. Why else did she feel like someone had lit a match under her skin? She was suddenly hyper-aware of her body, the thin film of sweat that coated her palms and the back of her neck, the choppy quality of her breathing, the dampness between her legs becoming all the more apparent when she squeezed them together, the friction causing relief and discomfort all at once.

The champagne-colored dress she’d chosen to wear earlier that night had seemed perfectly acceptable, but now, suddenly felt indecent. It seemed to cling a bit too well now, her bare legs ought not to be so...uncovered. Had Mr. Bridgeway noticed the back of her dress was mostly non-existent? He hadn’t bothered looking at her through most of their encounter tonight.

Her eyes flickered to his overpowering form...and stayed there. God sure had spent a little extra time creating the masterpiece that was Noah Bridgeway...at least physically. Although the fact that he lacked social graces hardly seemed to detract from his allure. Her gaze traveled from his chiseled jawline to his corded neck, half visible from his unbuttoned collar. Broad shoulders were barely contained within the seams of his white shirt. And his arms...Leah had spent quite a few hours since she’d first met him, fantasizing about those arms…she wouldn’t be able to move if he didn’t want her to...

“Careful Leah.”

Her eyes snapped back to his and she took an instinctive step back when she saw the look on his face. It was...predatory. As if his movements were also instinctive, he too took a step toward her, closing the gap between them, but still not touching her.

It seemed to her that everything was moving in slow motion when he reached a hand up towards her face. Leah’s eyes followed that hand, anticipating and dreading the moment when it would make contact. There was no way she could remain standing if he ever touched her like that. She was already feeling light-headed with him being so close.

He didn’t touch her, fortunately...right? But rested his palm on the wall just above her head, and leaned down to her eye level. What was left of Leah’s breath sputtered and died a tragic death. She’d never been this close to her boss before, and she was pretty sure this wasn’t office-appropriate. She was also beginning to suspect this was a dream. Nothing else would logically explain Noah’s behavior.

“This dress…” he practically growled. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Leah couldn’t tell from his expression or his tone if he was displeased or appreciative. Noah had never commented on her clothes before, and he’d certainly never looked at her like this. Were his eyes … glowing…?

“And there is so little of it to see Miss Perry.”

That statement knocked the breath right out of her.

“What?” she gasped out.

His eyes scanned her intimately and she saw...yes, his eyes were glowing, the normally dark green of his irises much lighter now.

“Mr. Bridgeway—”

“Don’t put this dress on again unless I’m with you. Or one of my brothers,” he added, his eyes pausing at the deep v of her cleavage.

Definitely dreaming.

And she couldn’t even begin to address the things wrong with her that her sub-conscience would come up with a statement like that for her dream Noah. But, feeling more and more confident that none of this was real, Leah began to relax. She’d had plenty of fantasies about the Bridgeway brothers before, albeit none so vividly detailed, and they usually didn’t involve any dialogue.

Glowing green eyes settled back on her face. “Say ‘Yes Mr. Bridgeway’”.

Oh my. She had no idea where this particular fantasy was coming from but every part of her was responding to it.

“Ye—” Leah cleared her throat, “Yes Mr. Bridgeway.”

*~*

Noah was aware he’d crossed a line he couldn’t uncross. But, fuck if he could find an ounce of regret. He wasn’t certain how he was going to keep Leah. He couldn’t foresee a future where either the Council or his Pack would accept a human as their alpha’s mate…

Though none of that seemed to matter to his wolf. Or his cock for that matter. Especially not when she was looking up at him with golden brown eyes clouded with arousal, her nipples beaded and begging for attention against the flimsy excuse of a dress she was wearing.

He could smell how fucking wet she was and it was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed to hold his wolf in check. The beast was thoroughly too excited at the moment, which was the only excuse for the demand he’d just made of her. He was well aware he had no right to tell her what not to wear, but his wolf didn’t care. All he demanded was to dominate and the sweet little morsel in front of him was being entirely too accommodating. His wolf was fairly salivating in approval and itching to see how much further he could push.

“Are you wearing panties?” he asked.

Before tonight, he’d never have thought his stead and proper assistant would leave home anything other than fully dressed. He’d never suspected she even owned a dress like this before either, but here they were.

“Mr. Bridgeway…?” It was obvious he’d shocked her with that question. Hell, he might have even shocked himself a little. “I can already tell you’re not wearing a bra.”

He most definitely could tell. His fingers were curled into fists in a feeble attempt not to attend to the perfect handfuls begging to be touched. He really ought to be rewarded for the sheer amount of willpower he possessed. As it stood, his head was getting a bit foggy.

“Yes Mr. Bridgeway,” she answered softly, her eyes flickering away from his gaze.

A deep sense of satisfaction permeated him at her response. It only confirmed that this woman would fit him perfectly.

He felt his lips curling into a smile, and for the first time in her presence, he didn’t repress it.

“Good girl,” he crooned and pulled himself away from her just as the elevator dinged its arrival.

Just before the doors slid open, he whispered to her, “But you won't be needing them anymore.”