close by.
“I came here because I scheduled a meeting in Santa Monica tonight, but I came down early because you ignored me.”
“You can’t just show up here and expect my attention. Unlike you, apparently, I have actual work to do.” I waved my hand toward a giant stack of unread scripts.
“No, you don’t,” he countered.
I bristled, my joy at seeing him quickly turning into something else. “Excuse me?”
“I checked your schedule with Barbara. You just have one meeting left, and then you’re clear for the rest of the day.”
I growled. I would be having a talk with Barbara about the information she chose to share with people who did not deserve to have such information. “I’m going to kill her or fire her. Which would be worse?” I cocked my head to the side.
“Firing would make her suffer more—unless you’re really cruel in the murder, but you don’t seem like the type.” Daniel pushed out of the chair and stood, his large frame towering in front of me. “Come here,” he demanded.
“No,” I shot back.
“Elizabeth,” he said my name with so much want that it lit a fire inside me. “Please get up and come here.”
“What for?” I sounded like an ungrateful child.
“Because I flew out here to kiss you. I told you in my email that I needed to do it again. I meant it. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Try.” I attempted to maintain control of my senses, but they were flying out the window with each word spilling off his tongue.
“I don’t want to. Now, get up before I come over there and make you get up.”
My jaw clenched as my mind debated which option would give me the most control. I didn’t like being bossed around, but having it done by Daniel Alexander was sort of a turn-on. Pushing against the desk, I rolled away from the security of it and rose to my feet, waving my arm in his direction. “I’m up.”
In the two seconds it took for me to say those words, he was in front of me, his body hulking. “I like kissing you,” he said as one hand slipped under my skirt and grabbed my bare ass.
I gasped from the surprise movement, but I didn’t pull away. The feel of his hand clutching and kneading my ass riled me up as heat spread between my thighs. I actually thought my body might melt into a puddle on the floor. His lips found mine, and my mouth instinctively opened to his, allowing his tongue to enter once again. Our lips opened and closed as my breathing grew heavier. His free hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place, as he panted against me, his mouth unable to get enough of mine.
He removed his grasp from my neck and reached for my free hand, leading it on top of the hard bulge in his pants. “Do you feel what you do to me?” he asked against my lips.
I stopped kissing him and pulled my hand away, feeling like an idiot, as my senses crashed down around me. The turn-on button suddenly switched off.
Am I supposed to be impressed with a hard-on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it felt impressive , but that’s not what I meant.
“I make your dick hard? I’m sorry, but you guys get hard-ons if the wind blows across your pants the right way. That’s not really a compliment.”
“My dick doesn’t behave like that.”
“Excuse me?” I wiped my bottom lip and took a step away from him, wondering how seriously I should take him.
“It doesn’t get hard on a whim. It’s fickle. It sure as shit doesn’t listen to me. But it likes you—a lot.”
He glanced down at his pants, and my eyes followed.
“Do girls really buy your line of crap?” I tried to stay tough, but the size of his bulge made me want to drop to my knees and welcome it to my place of employment.
“They do. But I’m not lying to you, Elizabeth. My dick has a mind of its own. Right now, you’re the only one it thinks about.”
“You’re an idiot.” I started laughing and couldn’t stop.
Who talks about his dick that way? Only a superficial, self-assured asshole