Damn. Even her sarcasm was sexy. “I’d rather look at you.”
Olivia stared directly at him. She wasn’t smiling, but there was definitely a hint of…something…in her eyes for a moment, before the cool mask came back down. “Has it occurred to you that that approach”—she nodded toward his proposal— “is exactly what got McKenzie fired?”
“Do you have a better idea?” he asked.
“Did you even look at the data?” she asked, as she began paging through the research binders she’d created. She highlighted something in yellow and passed the book to him. “Men only buy lingerie twice a year: anniversaries and Valentine’s Day. Vixen needs a campaign that will draw regular, repeat customers. We need to make the women want it.” She paused and stared straight at him, challenging him to refute her assessment. “You’re good at knowing what women want. Any ideas?”
He skimmed through the highlighted material. He was definitely distracted, but he couldn’t argue with her logic. It was all right there in black and white. Facts could be manipulated, but they didn’t lie.
“This is really impressive, Olivia.” He shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew she was sharp, but he hadn’t expected her to be such a talented researcher. She managed to make even statistics sexy.
“Of course it is,” Olivia said bluntly. “I know what I’m doing. I was on track to be partner a few weeks ago, remember?”
“Are you ever going to forgive me for that?”
“I don’t have any current plans to, no.” Olivia had turned her attention back to her binders.
Cole ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and let out a groan. “Do you have any idea how goddamn infuriating you can be?”
“I’m infuriating?” Olivia stood up from her chair and came toward him, her eyes blazing and her face flushed pink. “I’m not the one who keeps trying to fuck his employee.”
God, she was so hot when she was angry. He could smell her perfume, the scent of summer flooding his senses. His cock responded instantly. How the hell was he supposed to sit there, alone with her and surrounded by lingerie and pictures of half-naked women, and not think about bending her over the table and fucking the ever-loving daylights out of her? She was smart and sexy, the kind of woman you couldn’t let go of once you’d had a taste. He was only human, for fuck’s sake, and they had unfinished business.
“Olivia.” He looked directly at her. A deep flush swept down her neck and disappeared into the V of her blouse. The buttons strained against the soft cotton as her full breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath.
“Yeah?” She took a step toward him, not taking her eyes off his.
“I want to fuck you.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air. “Right. Now.”
Olivia’s body reacted swiftly to the proclamation. Her nipples hardened. Her pupils dilated. “I want to fuck you, too,” she said, almost too softly for him to hear, but her body was screaming signals he couldn’t miss.
He needed to know if she was wet. He stood, forcing the back of her legs against the table. Olivia let out a low moan of pleasure. She looked up at him from beneath impossibly long lashes, lust churning in her eyes. Cole leaned into her, pressing his body to hers. She held her ground, strands of silky, honey-blond hair tickling his cheek. When he placed a hand on her stomach, she trembled and he could feel her muscles expand and contract at his touch, could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her blouse. If he wasn’t turned on already, that would have done the job. The way her body responded to him was empowering. His hand travelled up her stomach, splaying over her full breasts.
Cole paused. Olivia’s heart hammered erratically against his palm, confirming her arousal.
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, sweeping the loose hair back. He lowered his mouth to her ear, letting her feel the heat of his breath. “I want to bury myself so deep in you that you forget where you end and I begin.”
“Yes.”
It was a whisper, but it was all he needed. Grabbing Olivia’s hips, he lifted her onto the table. Her legs spread easily for him and he gave silent thanks for the loose fitting skirt as he wedged himself between her soft thighs.
“Tonight, you’re mine.”
Olivia grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him oh-so-temptingly close. She leaned in for a kiss, but he held her at bay. Turnabout was fair play, and she’d been denying him for weeks.
“Not yet.” He placed a hand on her chest, driving her down until her back was flat against the table. “I want to taste you first. All of you.”
Olivia’s hips twitched in anticipation as he pushed the silky fabric of her skirt up over her thighs, massaging and teasing along the way. His fingers slid over her hips, meeting no resistance, only milky white skin.
“No panties?” he growled, kneading the tender flesh between his fingers.