I remind myself that I still despise Roman no matter what my hormones want me to believe as I turn to face the brilliant man who is in charge of the contracts department. His light hair is brushed to the side, his dark grey suit looks nice, fitted to his broad frame, and his dazzling green eyes are alight with something mischievous.
He’s a nice guy, and definitely a safer option to spend my evening with than the man who seems to have forgotten about my existence entirely.
Giving him a sly smile, I ignore the burn of Monica’s stare heating the side of my face. “Well, I’m surprised you could spare time from your volunteering and mountain climbing to join us.”
He huffs out some laughter, greeting both ladies at the table in a subtle nod before turning his gaze back to me. “I’m glad I was able to shave some time to slip away. I would have been devastated to not have witnessed you in such a beautiful gown.”
The compliment is sweet, and I smile accordingly. But I can’t help but wonder why it doesn’t light up my body the way it did when Roman told me I did a good job on the decorations. Or when he knew I was capable of holding in metal balls while attending a whole ass Christmas party.
“Join me for a drink?”
I rub at an annoying ache in my chest as I stand. “Sounds perfect. Coming, Monica?”
She crosses her delicate arms over her purple dress, her lips pursed in a strange look. “Nope. I’ll watch from here I think.”
Before I can ask her what the hell she’s talking about, Johnathan places a big hand on the small of my back and directs us to the punch table. I keep my steps small, trying my best to ignore the growing heaviness between my legs.
“So, how’s everything going up on the fifteenth floor?” he asks, pouring us both something from the large crystal bowl.
I shrug, taking the drink and realizing there’s a fuzzy warmth blooming through my veins. It only takes me a second to discern the two shots of Tequila went into an empty stomach.
Oh, shit.
My eyes scan the table for a possible starch I can shove in my mouth to absorb some of the liquor. “Ah, you know. Same old, same old. But people like you that turn in phenomenal reports are the only reasons I’m not getting chewed out every day.”
Jonathan turns and surveys the hall where more people are beginning to gather around the tree. “I don’t know how you work for the man. So close, I mean,” he adds when he sees my brows furrow. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s incredible at what he does, but he’s also scary as hell. The man has an aura around him that makes me nervous.”
I face off with the man everyday, and besides the incident in the elevator, I have never been nervous around him. Unable to particularly relate, I pass off an awkward laugh. “He’s not all that bad. Just wants stuff done right is all.”
“Still. Huge kudos to you, knowing how to handle someone like him.”
“Yes, I’d say she handles me just fine, Mr. Thorp.” Roman’s voice steals the air from between us, and I internally curse at my heart’s sudden uptick.
Johnathan straightens his spine, and I have to bite into my lip to keep from grimacing. He’s his boss, yeah, I get that, but also, he’s just a guy. “Good evening, Mr. Chen. Wonderful party, as always.”
I see Roman nod from my periphery, but I can feel his eyes on me. “All thanks to Miss Cartier here.”
“I had plenty of help,” I say, lifting my juice before downing the rest of the glass.
“Let’s not be modest, now.” I hear the way his words are double-edged, and a blush blooms along my cheeks. “A word, Miss Cartier?”
I bite down on my lip and survey the table one more time for some kind of food. The last thing I need is to have a word with him while my veins hum with alcohol. Even though it’s just a buzz, I know myself well enough to know I can get a little handsy.
“Is it important? I was in the middle of talking to Johnathan here.”
Johnathan stiffens and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, it’s okay, Pres, go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
Without even waiting for me to object, he disappears into the crowd, leaving me standing awkwardly with my boss. Roman side-steps, moving into the now vacant space in front of me. My eyes move of their own accord, trailing up his suit until our gazes meet.
“How are you feeling?”
“Flustered.”
“Hmm,” he replies, sliding his hands into his front pockets. “Because your friend left without a fight?”
Even though he’s speaking about Johnathan, I can’t help but think of Trenton, who also was more than happy to leave. I don’t miss him or anything, but it did always make me feel... inadequate. Like I wasn’t good enough for him to stick it out with me.
Damn, tipsy thoughts. Or not. I’m not sure, but the vulnerability I suddenly feel has me folding my arms around my center.
“Don’t do that.” Roman takes a step forward and tugs firmly on one of my hands, forcing my arms to drop. “Come with me.”
I nod, blinking away the burn radiating behind my eyes. Christmas is already a relatively emotional time for me, and I know better than to drink alcohol.
Roman allows me a moment before guiding me through the double doors. His hand doesn’t completely connect with my back, but I can feel the heat of his skin along my spine and my body acts accordingly, my core clenching around the balls.
When he taps the button for the elevator, the doors open immediately. We step inside, and for the second time in three years, I’m alone with Mr. Chen in an elevator.
My heart hammers into my ribcage, the memory of half an hour ago playing on repeat in my mind. It almost seems unreal to think about, but when I chance a quick glance, the darkness in Roman’s eyes confirms it was, in fact, very real.
He’s quiet for the short ride to our floor, and when we exit, he waits for me to get off in front of him before we walk straight into his office. He closes the door behind us, flipping the lock closed.
The clunk of the lock drops a lump of anticipation into my stomach and a tingle extends through my limbs.
“Can I be honest with you?” he asks, pulling out a chair and gesturing with a subtle nod of his head for me to sit down.
I swallow thickly as I oblige. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m proud of you.”
My brows ticking together displays my slight confusion. “For the party?”
He kneels down on one leg, resting a hand on the edge of my knee. My breath catches as I stare down at him, watching as he moves painstakingly slow, walking his fingers up my thigh. His fingers dip under the fabric of my dress, continuing their ascent to glide beneath the elastic of my panties. I spread my legs open for him, even tilting my hips to force his hand to move closer to where I want it. Where I need it.
Roman smirks as he slides one finger through my slickness and inside my pussy effortlessly, twisting his hand until he finds what he’s looking for.
My eyes slam shut, my back arching off the chair at the invasion I feel like I’ve waited forever for. I let a needy moan slip past my lips.