Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(92)

Feeling his flesh sink into mine with no latex barriers … my God. It makes everything that much better. Like, mind-bogglingly better.

“Fuck, that was unbelievable,” he mutters, sounding overcome. He grabs hold of my hands and pulls me into a sitting position, his cock still imbedded in my body. I tilt my head back just as he kisses me, his lips soft and damp, his tongue teasing against my lower lip. I part my lips on a sigh and slide my tongue against his, and the kiss turns lazy and sweet. I tighten my grip on his hands, our fingers intertwined, and I realize I’ve never felt so content.

Ridiculous. Most of the time he confuses me. My feelings for him confuse me. He can be so indifferent sometimes. Mysterious. Standoffish. And other times, he’s passionate and all-consuming. Intense, and even a little … cruel. But a delicious sort of cruel that makes me want more.

Then he looks at me in a certain way and says something dirty while he touches me like I’m a possession and he owns me. And all I want to do is fall into his arms and let him do whatever he wants to me.

I’m giving him too much power. I’ve been in this position before and I’ve always felt held back, especially with Zachary. There’s something about handing the power over to Ryder, though, that’s different. I feel both cherished and liberated. Taken care of yet free.

“I should go,” I whisper against his lips, reluctant to break the spell he’s woven over me.

“Why?” He runs his fingers over my hair, pushing it back into place.

This entire charade we’re participating in is beyond frustrating. “If I stay locked up in your office for too long, people will get suspicious.”

“We’re in a meeting.” He kisses me again. Softly. Sweetly. I could kiss him all day. All night. “Discussing packaging for your cosmetics line.”

“That excuse will hold up for only so long.” I touch his face, feeling closer to him now than I ever have. It’s so silly. We just had sex on his desk, but it felt … different somehow.

“Mmm.” His low hum vibrates through me, making me warm, and then he’s gone. As he withdraws from my body, I feel his semen drip out of me and I frown. He bends down and snatches my panties off the floor, pressing them against my sex so he can clean me up as best he can. “Sorry,” he whispers as he crumples up my panties in his fist and strides around his desk to shove them in his top drawer.

“Don’t forget those,” I tell him. I’d be mortified if he opened his drawer one day in front of someone and there lay my panties. Not that anyone would know they’re mine, but still …

I slide off the desk and tug my skirt back into place, feeling awkward as usual. It’s always this way after we mess around in his office or some other clandestine location. Usually I become nervous, he becomes brusque, and I scurry away like an insecure little girl, hoping he doesn’t hate me.

“Hey.”

Turning, I find him watching me, his gaze soft, his smile warm. He’s looking at me as if he might actually care, and my heart swells with hope. “Yes?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too nervous.

He approaches me, drops a kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you tonight, yes?”

I nod. “Of course.”

“Good.” He traces my lips with his index finger. “I’ll come over after work?”

“Maybe we could grab dinner,” I suggest, loving the idea of actually going out with him.

“How about takeout?”

Disappointment crashes within me. “All right.” I step around him and start toward the door when he comes up behind me and rests his hands on my hips, twirling me around so I’m facing him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I should go.” I frown up at him, reaching out to straighten his tie.

“With no kiss goodbye?”

Standing on tiptoe, I press my mouth to his in a chaste kiss. “Goodbye,” I murmur, hating how final that word sounds.

“Violet. What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. I can’t tell him that I’m worried about all of this. About him. About us. I’m falling for him. And I think he’s falling for me, but what if …

What if this is all a lie?

He slips his fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze once again. “Tell me.”

“I’m fine. Just worried. About … everything.” I sound silly. Like I’m making up an excuse.

“You worry too much.” He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose and then reaches out to unlock and open the door for me. “It’s been a pleasure, as usual, to discuss packaging details with you, Miss Fowler,” he says loudly in case anyone is passing by.

No one is, of course. I want to laugh, but I don’t. “Thank you, Mr. McKay. Your advice, as usual, is spot on.”

“That’s what I hoped.” He smacks me on the ass and shoves me into the hall with a wink and a smile before he walks back to his desk.

I return to my office in a dreamlike state, hardly remembering taking the elevator to get there. There’s a bright pink Post-it note stuck to the middle of my monitor and I snatch it off, reading the familiar handwriting of my father’s assistant, Joy.

Your father would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.

Settling behind my desk, I dial her extension.