CHAPTER 16

Do you need my presence? I asked for further information.

He gave one nod before picking up the phone and starting to talk. His deep voice resonantly said, "I don't think you'd need to be that specific at this stage, George," sending chills down my spine. "Just a broad outline is OK. Before beginning to write, we must first determine the proposal's scope.

I moved from where I was standing since it felt uncomfortable. He exaggerated his self-importance to the point that I felt like a servant fanning him and carrying a tray of grapes as he spoke to a coworker.

His eyes momentarily darted to my skirt as soon as we locked eyes, giving me a slight double take. His lips seemed to be ready to ask me a question as he turned back to face me. Then, reaching forward, he used his pen's tip to raise the hem of my skirt and trace it along my thigh while holding it tenderly between his fingers. When he saw the garter, his expression changed to one of surprise.

He said into the phone, "I understand," which allowed my skirt to resume its original position. We can all agree it is a good development, I believe.

His eyes followed the whole length of my body, lowering in intensity as they did so. In reaction, my heart began to race. I wanted to climb into his lap and tie him to the chair with his tie every time he gave me that look.

"No, no. Nothing quite that wide yet. This is only a rough outline as I indicated.

I slid under his desk and sat down in the chair across from him. He cocked an eyebrow, showing interest, and carelessly tucked the pen between his teeth, lightly chewing it.

I felt a rush of heat pulse between my legs, so I went for the skirt's hem and slowly dragged the material up my thighs. The hungry eyes locked on me from across the desk were enticed by the chilly office air caressing my bare flesh.

"Yes, I see," he said, his voice becoming huskier and deeper.

My fingers moved over my flesh and the satin of my underwear as they followed the shapes of the garters. I'd never felt as seductively seductive as I did when he was around.

It was as if he had taken all of my ideas about my life, my goals, and my career and said, "These are all great, but check out this other alluring component I'm presenting to you. You'll yearn for it even though it will be perverted and dangerously addicting. You'll long for me.

And he would have been on target if he had said those comments out loud.

He said, "Yes," again. "I think that's the best thing to do."

You do, don't you? He gave me a nasty half-grin in response to my smile, which had my teeth pressing against my bottom lip. His fingers climbed higher, massaging and pressing my breast. My other hand moved the middle of my pants aside and ran two fingers over my damp flesh.

Ramirez coughed and frantically reached for his water glass. George, that's acceptable. Once we have it, we'll go forward as necessary. Within that time frame, we can operate.

I accelerated my tempo as I imagined his long fingers twisting the pen and his hands tightly holding onto my hips, waist, and thighs as he pushed into me among the lingerie racks.

I moved more quickly, closing my eyes and leaning back against the chair. When a slight groan escaped, I bit down on my lip in an effort to muffle it. I daydreamed about his hands, his well-muscled forearms, and the flexing muscles under his skin as his fingers probed the depths of my body. His legs were chiseled and rigid when he was in front of me in the conference room, fighting the impulse to push.

His eyes were riveted on me and were imploring.

His stare was just how I had expected it to be when I looked up. Instead of watching my hand, he was drinking directly into my face, and as I sank further and deeper into bliss, I was captivated by his greedy gaze. I was overcome by my climax and yearned for more, preferring his touch to mine.

His phone conversation ended at some point, and the eerie stillness that followed filled the space. He sat across from me, his hands holding the arms of the chair like he was in a storm, and sweat was starting to form on his forehead.

He mumbled something and said, "What are you doing to me?"

I flashed a mischievous grin, pushing my bangs aside. "I think I just did that all by myself."

His eyebrow arched. "Indeed."

Standing up, I smoothed down my skirt, ensuring it fell gracefully over my thighs. "If that's everything, Mr. Ramirez, I'll get back to work."

After freshening up in the restroom, I received a text message from Mr. Ramirez, informing me that he would meet me in the parking garage to head downtown. Thank goodness the other executives and their assistants were attending the Red Hawk meeting. Based on our history, I knew that being alone in a limo with that man for twenty minutes—especially after what had just transpired—could only lead to two possible outcomes. And only one of them ended with him keeping his intact masculinity.

The waiting limousine was just outside, and as I approached it, our driver, Stuart, greeted me with a wide smile and opened the door. "Hey, Emily, how's work?"

"Busy, fun, never-ending. And how's school?" I smiled back. Stuart was my favorite driver, and while he had a tendency to flirt, he always managed to brighten my day.

"If I could drop physics and still graduate with a biology degree, I would. Too bad you're not a scientist, or you could tutor me," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"If you two lovebirds are finished, we actually have somewhere important to be. Maybe you can save the flirting for another time, Miss Brown." Mr. Ramirez was apparently already inside the car, waiting for me, and he scowled at both of us as he settled back into his seat. I grinned and rolled my eyes at Stuart before stepping inside.

Apart from Mr. Ramirez, the limo was empty. "Where are the others?" I asked, puzzled, as we drove away.

"They have a dinner meeting later this evening and decided to drive separately." He occupied himself with his documents, but I couldn't help but notice the nervous tapping of his stylish Italian oxfords.

I regarded him with suspicion. He didn't appear any different, though he looked devilishly attractive as always. His hair was its usual disheveled perfection. As he absentmindedly lifted his gold pen to his lips, just as he had in his office earlier, I found myself shifting in my seat to alleviate my growing unease.

When he glanced up, a smirk played on his lips, letting me know that he had caught me ogling him. "See something you like?" he quipped.