Free Until I'm Yours by Kennedy Ryan

“No artichoke hearts today.”
    I look around the small, neat lobby. I’m in the right place.
    “Stil, food!” a disembodied voice booms from the adjacent room. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, I see Sofie’s gilded head bent over a stack of papers on her desk. Without a second thought, I grab the container and walk into the office.
    “It’s about damn time.” Sofie doesn’t lift her head, but jots down a note in a Moleskine notebook. “Now I’m hangry.”
    “Well, they’re out of artichoke hearts.” I set the container on the desk in front of her. “Hope that doesn’t make it worse.”
    Her eyes fly up from her work, meeting mine and widening.
    When they say this woman is beautiful, they’re not telling the half of it. Or maybe they just leave out the most important part. It’s not the perfection of her features that captivates me. It’s all the things hidden behind those green eyes. Like water so vibrant and clear you can see all the way down to the ocean floor, but somehow as you dive deeper, there’s all this life teeming beneath the surface that managed to remain undetected until it brushes up against you.
    That brief surprised widening of her eyes is the only moment she yields to me, my last advantage. She recovers quickly, leaning back in her seat and crossing one long leg over the other, clearly a move that usually distracts horny men long enough for her to manipulate them. If she were wearing a skirt, I might have even fallen for it.
    “Are you lost?” She raises one dark blond brow.
    “No more than everyone else.” I settle one butt cheek on the edge of her desk, mostly for show because I’m afraid my full weight would topple the little glass table.
    “Oh, is this a philosophical discussion then?” Her full lips bend almost undetectably.
    “If you’d like, I’m down for that.”
    “Men don’t usually want to have philosophical discussions with me.”
    “I bet they’re missing out.”
    “No, they’re not.” She uncrosses one leg, scoots them both under the desk, and rests her chin on folded hands. “What can I do for you, Mr. Bishop?”
    “First, you can call me Trevor, or just Bishop.” I give her a grin. “All my friends do.”
    She doesn’t bounce a grin back to me.
    “How nice for your friends. And you’re here because?”
    “I was wondering if you’re coming to the rooftop party tonight.”
    She tilts her head, giving me an unblinking stare.
    “And that matters to you why?”
    “I’m leaving for Cambodia tomorrow, and I wanted to see you again.”
    A small frown knits her eyebrows together, and her lashes drop to hide her eyes.
    “I thought you and Harold were staying in New York for a while.”
    “We are when we come back, but have some business there first.” I reach out to lift her chin, forcing her to look at me again. “So will you be there tonight?”
    She turns her head, subtly freeing herself from my grasp.
    “You know I’m dating Rip.” She lifts her lashes, giving me the full impact of those green eyes. “Are you in the habit of pursuing another man’s girl?”
    “No, I have a definite rule about that. I never go after another guy’s girl.” I shake my head. “This isn’t pursuit. This is early level mild interest.”
    “ This is early level mild interest?” She leans forward a little, extending her neck for the question. “Following me to the bathroom? Staring at me rudely in elevators? Asking me probing questions in front of strangers? Tracking down my office and arriving unannounced? I’d hate to see pursuit.”
    “I actually think you’d like to see pursuit, but we won’t know until you kick the quarterback. When’s that happening, by the way?”
    “I told you he’s still fucking me out of my mind. Why stop now?”
    She watches my face closely for the response she wanted from her words. Little does she know it’s not my face that’s responding. Every time she says the word “fuck” my dick goes hard as