The VIP Room(178)

She stared into his dark blue eyes, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. After a few shaky breaths, she managed to pull herself together enough to answer.

“I want that, too,” she whispered.

Marcus took the rest of her breath away by kissing her.

His hands slid under her ass and he lifted her, groaning when his erection pressed into her heat. Leah wanted him—God, how she wanted him—but she gradually eased herself out of the kiss that was melting her brain, and fought to catch her breath.

“Leah—”

“Not here. I have my one night, Marcus.” He smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “With clothes on.”

“I remember the condition, gorgeous.” He kissed and licked his way up her throat, and she was throbbing by the time he reached her ear. “It has to be tonight—I can’t wait any longer than that. I have plans. You have no idea just how creative I can be when presented with a challenge.”

Oh, she had a good idea. He had her panting, on the edge of an orgasm, and she was fully clothed, his hands nowhere near bare skin.

“Tonight,” she whispered. “I’m good with that.”

“Thank God.” With a frustrated growl he captured her lips again, rocking against her, his tongue sliding over hers at the same teasing, erotic pace.

A knock on the door stilled them.

“Mr. Hawkins?”

God—it was Kyle, the security guard from the lobby. The security guard Leah had to walk past every day. Marcus eased back, leaned his forehead against hers, and took a few deep breaths.

“What is it, Kyle?”

“Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a huge delivery downstairs, and they won’t leave it without your signature.”

Excitement lit his eyes. “Tell them I’ll be right down.” He waited until Kyle’s footsteps faded, then kissed her, with enthusiasm, before he lowered her to the floor. “My new toys are here.”

“Wait—not the gaming computers?”

“Yes.” He kissed her again, and tangled his hands in her hair, ruining her neat bun with his clever fingers. “Come down with me, Miss Frane, and help me check the inventory.”

She smiled up at him. “It is my job, Mr. Hawkins.”

His laughter rumbled through her. After a last kiss he took her hand, detouring to grab his glasses off his desk. When he slipped them on her heart did a flip—he looked so damn sexy. She could almost forget he had more money than God, and was her boss.

That was a detail they’d have to talk about. Tonight.

She shivered at the thought of what might happen. What she wanted to happen.

Marcus led her to the door, and let go of her hand to pull it open. He looked a little more rumpled than usual, but none of the other women in the office would notice. While he made his way across the waiting room, Leah took the time to redo her bun. That would be noticed—and she didn’t need any enemies. The women here were already jealous that she was his assistant; any whisper of scandal and they would make her life hell.

When she bent down to retrieve the now creased notepad, she saw Marcus at the elevator, his fingers tapping the plate above the call light. He glanced over his shoulder, like he knew she was watching him, and winked at her. She swallowed, warmth spreading through her, centering around her heart. Lord, was she in trouble.

He stepped into the elevator, and braced his hand on the door frame. “Coming, Miss Frane?”

“I’m on my way, Mr. Hawkins. Did you need the invoice?”

“No.” A smile spread across his dangerously handsome face. “I have an eidetic memory.”

She fussed with the notepad to cover the blush heating her cheeks. By the time she reached the elevator she was a bit more composed—until the door slid closed and Marcus trapped her against the back wall.

“Is this going to become a habit, Mr. Hawkins?”

“God, I hope so.” He tossed the notepad over his shoulder—again—and leaned in to nibble her earlobe. “I have a vivid imagination to go with that memory, Miss Frane.” The way he said her name made her shiver. She felt him smile against her cheek. “And I have imagined you in so many different scenarios. All with your clothes on.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. What had been meant as a deterrent had become a challenge for him.

He captured her lips before she could say anything else, kissing her until she couldn’t think straight. Only the weight of his body kept her upright, her legs as steady as rubber. He must have been counting floor dings—by the time he freed her and they made themselves presentable, there were two floors until they reached the lobby. Marcus picked up her notepad and handed it to her, the gleam in his eyes leaving her jittery.

“I plan on bringing the packing material home with me. So many things one can do with bubble wrap, and packing tape.”

Her knees nearly buckled.

Smiling, Marcus strode out of the elevator. “Coming, Miss Frane?”

Any second now.

She clutched the notepad and followed him toward the pile of boxes. It was going to be a long day.

Tonight. She could last until tonight.

One night with Marcus Hawkins was worth the wait.