satisfaction. His scowl is an ever-relentless reminder that nothing I do pleases him. I keep my eyes in front of my computer as I scroll through my e-mail. Maybe if I pretend he’s not here, he'll go away.
"Gellar, did you hear me? Are you deaf now? Or are you purposely ignoring me?"
No. Such. Luck. It would be easier to ignore a naked man walking into the middle of my office. Have you ever heard of the expression head on? Yeah, well he invented it. My mother always says “kill them with kindness” but it’s obvious that whoever made up that saying never met someone like Nicholas.
"Good morning,” I say sweetly. I hope he can smell the sarcasm dripping from my words.
The color of his suit catches my eye. I groan inwardly at the sight of it. He’s wearing grey today. I hate when he wears grey. The color contrast brings out the deep blues in his eyes. And it's irritating. Even now, he looks like he should be on his way to a magazine shoot for GQ. Rich bastard .
"I ask you, what the fuck is this?" he asks, pointing at the headline that reads: StoneHaven Publishing Co. to Host NY Gala .
"That is... well, you know about the gala. You're the one who asked me to schedule the event.”
Just play dumb. Enjoy this . Nicholas has been planning this trip for weeks, but this is payback for saying I meant nothing a few minutes after he fucked me. Apparently, there’s nothing cruel about getting belligerently drunk, seducing me into his office, and then pushing me under his desk while he makes plans to fuck Alison. I know she’s his fiancée, but it doesn’t make it any easier on me.
"Gellar, you know why I'm upset. Why did you schedule the gala on the same night I'm supposed to be out of the country?” he asks as he taps his fingers on my desk impatiently.
"Nicholas, I had no idea that you…"
"Cut the shit, Gellar, you did it on purpose."
If Nicholas hadn't drawn attention to the two of us before, there were definitely some curious stares now. Even Ken is sending “I'm sorry” glances at me as he types away at his computer. His office sits directly in front of my cubicle. The only thing dividing us is a walkway to the elevators. Thank God he’s so close. I could use the moral support right about now. Nicholas takes a seat on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms in an effort to intimidate me.
"Why did you cancel my tickets? And don't fucking toy with me.” My silence only makes him angrier. “What do you have to say for yourself?" Nicholas asks, almost growling.
"I’m sorry, I got the gala dates mixed up. Would you like me to call the event coordinator and the museum?”
The date of the event is already public. Changing it would only confuse people, or make them suspicious, but Nicholas knows that.
“I’m not sure what you’d like me to do; the papers won’t print any retractions.” I smile inside. I've won this battle, but the war is definitely not over.
A smirk creeps up Nicholas's face. He stands, and in one swift motion he spins my chair, pulling me to him. I squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. His hands hold my chair in place as he leans in, closing the space between his face and mine. What is he doing?
The memory of being underneath him as he fucked me flashes in my mind. My body betrays me as I melt under his gaze. His breath is cool with the faintest smell of cinnamon. It’s enough to draw me in. There’s something wrong with me, I know it. My brain says go away, but my cheeks flush at the sight of him wetting his bottom lip. He smirks at me as he catches me staring at his lips, but he doesn’t stop. I can almost feel the warmth of his lips against mine. The way his tongue felt sliding across my skin. It’s a moment of pure bliss. And a moment I’ve been trying to forget the past few days.
"Touché, Rebecca, but remember, Christmas is just around the corner and you just gave me all the ammo I need to keep you from flying back home,” he says. He pulls back slightly and stops to gaze at
"Gellar, did you hear me? Are you deaf now? Or are you purposely ignoring me?"
No. Such. Luck. It would be easier to ignore a naked man walking into the middle of my office. Have you ever heard of the expression head on? Yeah, well he invented it. My mother always says “kill them with kindness” but it’s obvious that whoever made up that saying never met someone like Nicholas.
"Good morning,” I say sweetly. I hope he can smell the sarcasm dripping from my words.
The color of his suit catches my eye. I groan inwardly at the sight of it. He’s wearing grey today. I hate when he wears grey. The color contrast brings out the deep blues in his eyes. And it's irritating. Even now, he looks like he should be on his way to a magazine shoot for GQ. Rich bastard .
"I ask you, what the fuck is this?" he asks, pointing at the headline that reads: StoneHaven Publishing Co. to Host NY Gala .
"That is... well, you know about the gala. You're the one who asked me to schedule the event.”
Just play dumb. Enjoy this . Nicholas has been planning this trip for weeks, but this is payback for saying I meant nothing a few minutes after he fucked me. Apparently, there’s nothing cruel about getting belligerently drunk, seducing me into his office, and then pushing me under his desk while he makes plans to fuck Alison. I know she’s his fiancée, but it doesn’t make it any easier on me.
"Gellar, you know why I'm upset. Why did you schedule the gala on the same night I'm supposed to be out of the country?” he asks as he taps his fingers on my desk impatiently.
"Nicholas, I had no idea that you…"
"Cut the shit, Gellar, you did it on purpose."
If Nicholas hadn't drawn attention to the two of us before, there were definitely some curious stares now. Even Ken is sending “I'm sorry” glances at me as he types away at his computer. His office sits directly in front of my cubicle. The only thing dividing us is a walkway to the elevators. Thank God he’s so close. I could use the moral support right about now. Nicholas takes a seat on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms in an effort to intimidate me.
"Why did you cancel my tickets? And don't fucking toy with me.” My silence only makes him angrier. “What do you have to say for yourself?" Nicholas asks, almost growling.
"I’m sorry, I got the gala dates mixed up. Would you like me to call the event coordinator and the museum?”
The date of the event is already public. Changing it would only confuse people, or make them suspicious, but Nicholas knows that.
“I’m not sure what you’d like me to do; the papers won’t print any retractions.” I smile inside. I've won this battle, but the war is definitely not over.
A smirk creeps up Nicholas's face. He stands, and in one swift motion he spins my chair, pulling me to him. I squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. His hands hold my chair in place as he leans in, closing the space between his face and mine. What is he doing?
The memory of being underneath him as he fucked me flashes in my mind. My body betrays me as I melt under his gaze. His breath is cool with the faintest smell of cinnamon. It’s enough to draw me in. There’s something wrong with me, I know it. My brain says go away, but my cheeks flush at the sight of him wetting his bottom lip. He smirks at me as he catches me staring at his lips, but he doesn’t stop. I can almost feel the warmth of his lips against mine. The way his tongue felt sliding across my skin. It’s a moment of pure bliss. And a moment I’ve been trying to forget the past few days.
"Touché, Rebecca, but remember, Christmas is just around the corner and you just gave me all the ammo I need to keep you from flying back home,” he says. He pulls back slightly and stops to gaze at
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