it back, I noticed he’d been paying more attention to my hand on him than to what I was saying. “Ian, did you hear me?”
He returns his gaze to my eyes. There is a brief flash of emotion but then it’s gone. Probably just me wanting to make more of the situation than there is. He was probably upset that I was touching him after what happened last night. “Oh yes, I’m sorry. And really, I’m sorry. I was just worried about you. I didn’t know what had happened; I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”
He goes to stand but again I put my hand out, “Ian, I understand why you did it and thank you.” The urge to pull him to me and cover his lips with mine is overwhelming; I’m almost dizzy with desire for him. Some emotion I don’t understand crosses his face then he turns away from me.
“I want to get these phone calls returned before 5:00 p.m. ,” he says pulling out his phone and checking the screen, “and I need you to go through the emails before then as well.” He walks back over to his desk and I sit down at mine and start on the emails. Before I know it, Ian is standing in front of my desk.
“Celeste, it’s 5:30. I am going to head over to the apartment and get changed. The car will be here at 6:30 to take us to the Ritz Carlton.” His demeanor is distant, almost cold. I mentally kick myself; if this were any other job, I would view it as professional but still it’s such a change from the way he was earlier. Maybe talking about last night wasn’t a good idea. Well, I won’t make that mistake again. As he walks into the apartment, I get up and go into the bathroom to change and touch up my hair and makeup.
Chapter 8
I’m standing in the bathroom, wondering what I should do. I have finished getting ready. The spa had given me the comb to put in my hair along with everything I would need for any touch ups on my makeup. I have my perfume in my purse and I already put the thong, garter and stockings on. It is when I go to put on the dress that I know I’m in trouble. There is no way I can finish fastening the back. Should have gone with a dress with a side zip. I crack the bathroom door peaking out. If I take my letter opener, maybe I can hook the zipper and get it up the rest of the way. I don’t see Ian anywhere in the office so I quickly make a beeline for my desk. At that exact moment, Ian steps out of the conference room with a glass of cognac in his hand. His eyes go wide when he sees me half dressed, frozen mid-step. Oh, let the ground swallow me up now. Recovering, he walks over to me. “Here turn around; let me help you with that.” Sliding the curls that are draping down my back out of the way he proceeds to finish zipping and fastening the dress. As he lets my hair fall back into place, I feel his hands skim my back between my shoulder blades. I inhale sharply at his touch. I can only hope that he didn’t hear me do it. His touch is like putting an electric current to my skin, wondrous and frightening at the same time. I have never felt like that when a man touched me.
I thought I heard him mumble something about absolutely s tunning but my head was so drunk from his touch that I wasn’t sure if he said it. Or maybe I imagined it because I wanted him to say it. Ian breaks the long awkward silence by telling me it’s time to go down and meet the car.
Connor opens the door to the limo for Ian and I, and Ian ushers me into the car first, climbing in behind me. Once in the car in such close proximity to him, I feel myself start to sweat. The tension between my thighs is back with a vengeance. What is it about limos that are so sexy? I can smell Ian’s cologne, musky and smelling very much like a man in charge, as I sit next to him. Close enough to touch but not touching; we ride mostly in silence to the Ritz where we’re greeted by a red carpet lined with photographers. Ian steps
He returns his gaze to my eyes. There is a brief flash of emotion but then it’s gone. Probably just me wanting to make more of the situation than there is. He was probably upset that I was touching him after what happened last night. “Oh yes, I’m sorry. And really, I’m sorry. I was just worried about you. I didn’t know what had happened; I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”
He goes to stand but again I put my hand out, “Ian, I understand why you did it and thank you.” The urge to pull him to me and cover his lips with mine is overwhelming; I’m almost dizzy with desire for him. Some emotion I don’t understand crosses his face then he turns away from me.
“I want to get these phone calls returned before 5:00 p.m. ,” he says pulling out his phone and checking the screen, “and I need you to go through the emails before then as well.” He walks back over to his desk and I sit down at mine and start on the emails. Before I know it, Ian is standing in front of my desk.
“Celeste, it’s 5:30. I am going to head over to the apartment and get changed. The car will be here at 6:30 to take us to the Ritz Carlton.” His demeanor is distant, almost cold. I mentally kick myself; if this were any other job, I would view it as professional but still it’s such a change from the way he was earlier. Maybe talking about last night wasn’t a good idea. Well, I won’t make that mistake again. As he walks into the apartment, I get up and go into the bathroom to change and touch up my hair and makeup.
Chapter 8
I’m standing in the bathroom, wondering what I should do. I have finished getting ready. The spa had given me the comb to put in my hair along with everything I would need for any touch ups on my makeup. I have my perfume in my purse and I already put the thong, garter and stockings on. It is when I go to put on the dress that I know I’m in trouble. There is no way I can finish fastening the back. Should have gone with a dress with a side zip. I crack the bathroom door peaking out. If I take my letter opener, maybe I can hook the zipper and get it up the rest of the way. I don’t see Ian anywhere in the office so I quickly make a beeline for my desk. At that exact moment, Ian steps out of the conference room with a glass of cognac in his hand. His eyes go wide when he sees me half dressed, frozen mid-step. Oh, let the ground swallow me up now. Recovering, he walks over to me. “Here turn around; let me help you with that.” Sliding the curls that are draping down my back out of the way he proceeds to finish zipping and fastening the dress. As he lets my hair fall back into place, I feel his hands skim my back between my shoulder blades. I inhale sharply at his touch. I can only hope that he didn’t hear me do it. His touch is like putting an electric current to my skin, wondrous and frightening at the same time. I have never felt like that when a man touched me.
I thought I heard him mumble something about absolutely s tunning but my head was so drunk from his touch that I wasn’t sure if he said it. Or maybe I imagined it because I wanted him to say it. Ian breaks the long awkward silence by telling me it’s time to go down and meet the car.
Connor opens the door to the limo for Ian and I, and Ian ushers me into the car first, climbing in behind me. Once in the car in such close proximity to him, I feel myself start to sweat. The tension between my thighs is back with a vengeance. What is it about limos that are so sexy? I can smell Ian’s cologne, musky and smelling very much like a man in charge, as I sit next to him. Close enough to touch but not touching; we ride mostly in silence to the Ritz where we’re greeted by a red carpet lined with photographers. Ian steps
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