“Great,” I say with a smile. “Thanks for everything, Walker. When I’m finished, do I report back to you?”
“Indeed,” he replies. “Consider me your direct line to executive management.”
With that, he turns and heads out the door, Adam following closely behind him.
“If you need anything,” Adam says as he pauses in the doorway, “I’ll be at my desk, right outside.”
“Thanks, Adam,” I say, then turn my attention back to the portfolio. I need something, anything, about Pierce Industries that I can use to keep the conversation above board. I cannot mention his eyes. I cannot mention the dreams. I cannot mention how it felt to look at him across that table all evening…
There’s a light knock on the doorframe, and I look up expecting to see Adam or Walker, back with a last-minute addition to the portfolio.
Instead, I’m looking directly into Christian’s eyes.
Chapter 12
Christian
“No way,” I say quietly, under my breath. “No fucking way.”
I’m absolutely goddamn dumbfounded. Because standing behind the desk in a swanky corner office, waiting for me, is Quinn Campbell.
In the next instant, I register the heat coming off of her, the intensity with which she’s practically trembling, even though we’re here for a business meeting and nothing else, professional topics only. Her eyes are locked on mine, but I can see from here that her breathing is shallow, the cut of her jacket not disguising the rise and fall of her perfect, gorgeous breasts.
I want to give myself a stern shake for being such a fucking idiot. How could I not have gotten the name of the person I’d be meeting with? Maybe if I’d done my homework, I wouldn’t be standing here with a racing heart and a cock so hard that it’s painfully pressing against the fabric of my pants.
Jesus, she looks so fucking good. The clothes she’s wearing fit her so well that it’s like they were custom-made for her. The pencil skirt hugs her tight, lifted ass in a way that would be obscene if it wasn’t business casual.
But as much as her body is drawing me in, it’s not her curves that have me captivated. It’s the energy she’s radiating. The pure confidence with an undercurrent of something I can’t define, but I feel it reverberating through every cell in my body.
We stand facing each other for what seems like it must be the longest moment in history, and then she leaps into action. A practiced smile spreads across her face, and she moves toward me across the office with measured steps, her hand extended.
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she says in an even tone. “I’m Quinn Campbell, and we’ll be working together to make some strategic adjustments to your public reputation.”
I take her hand and a jolt of hot lust spikes all the way up my arm, across my shoulders, and down my spine, followed quickly by the most intense need for another human being I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s not limited to lust, or sex. I need to know her. Everything about her. As quickly as possible.
“Christian Pierce,” I say with my signature cocky smile, shaking her hand.
I resolve right then to act like an adult. Despite our obvious and overwhelming attraction to one another, I’m not going to act on it. I’m going to keep this professional. She is a public relations expert who my father has retained on behalf of Pierce Industries. I’m one of Pierce Industries’ greatest assets. This is going to be no fucking problem.
Only I don’t want to let go of her hand.
That could be a problem.
It’s petite and soft in mine, and even though the handshake is well over, her hand rests in mine, holding on gently as if to feel my skin.
My charming instincts take over, and I turn her hand in mine so that the back of it is facing up, and then I bring it to my lips, a half smile on my face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, kissing the back of her hand like some French fucking troubadour.
No. Not the most professional thing to do, but it’s right in line with Christian Pierce’s usual playbook.
She blushes a deep red, then pulls her hand back as if I’ve given her an electric shock. “I’ve been giving some thought to a few strategies we could…” When she begins speaking, her voice is strong and clear, but I can’t look away from her, and I know she feels the same magnetic pull towards me because her eyes don’t leave mine. They can’t leave mine. Instead, they bore deeper into my soul, searching, searching.
The breath catches in my throat. I’m trying so hard, so fucking hard, not to step closer to her, to take her face in my hands, to put my mouth on hers…
She bites her lip. She actually bites her bottom lip. Her lipstick is the perfect shade for her skin, and her teeth stand out white against it. She bites her lip and she takes a smooth breath that hitches just at the end of the inhale, and I can’t take it anymore.
I step backward and turn, then reach out and tug at the door so it releases from its magnetic doorstop. With exaggerated patience, I lay my hands flat against the surface and press it closed until finally I hear the latch catch in the lock.
It takes me one second to scan around the door. The windows that surround it are indoor glass, completely opaque.
Then I spin on my heel and I go to her. I close the distance between us in three steps and I’m on her, so close to her that the fabric of my jacket brushes against hers, and I do what I’ve wanted to do since I saw her in the rain last week: I put my hands on either side of her jawline and pull her toward me, covering her mouth with mine, kissing her so hard and hot and deep that the rest of the world disappears entirely.
Quinn meets every movement I make with her own, her tongue dueling with mine. Her hands go to my wrists and she pulls down like she wants to pull both of us to the floor right here, right now, but instead she compromises and lifts up onto her toes so she can get more from this kiss, more of me.
A soft moan escapes her lips and I swallow it, moving one hand down and back so that I’m cupping her head, drawing her in, never fucking wanting this kiss to end, never wanting her to be any farther from me than she is right now.
In fact, I want her to be closer.
So much closer.
She’s like no other woman on earth. She doesn’t get smaller, more passive in my arms; she presses against me, she has her way with me, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
I have to get her in bed. I want to bend her over, give her a little taste of the power I could have over her, and then set her free again. The city might never recover from the fucking fireworks.
The kiss gets hotter, sloppier, her hands are gripping my wrists tighter. I’m going to lose control. I’m going to lose control and bend this woman over the desk and fuck her until—
The landline on her desk rings, the trill of it startling Quinn so that she jumps backward, her face flushed, her lips parted and puffy from the intensity of the kiss, and in two steps she’s at her desk, fumbling with the phone.
“Quinn Campbell,” she says into the receiver, and then she gives me a sexy little smile. “Thank you. You can send it up now.” She hangs up the phone carefully. “That was my assistant—lunch has arrived.”
As discreetly as I can, I adjust my rock-hard cock through my pants and step over to her desk, sitting down in one of the brand new seats. Something is beginning to dawn on me through the steam filling my brain from how fucking hot that kiss was. All of this furniture is brand new. The chairs look like they’ve never been touched. The suitcase in the rain…it all falls into place.