Dare Me(32)

“Very well.” He nods and pulls my hand into his. Instead of shaking it, he pulls it to his lips and presses a kiss to the top. I manage a smile and tug gently, trying to release my hand from his grasp, but he’s stronger. He holds it just long enough to let me know that he’s in control, and I submit. I stop fighting him. He smiles when he realizes he’s won. Finally releasing my hand, he turns quickly and walks toward the elevators. Normally, I walk clients to the elevator to send them out, but not today.

“Send my greetings to Mr. Hamilton, please,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Fuck off,” I mumble under my breath and return to my desk.



Twelve thirty sneaks up on me, and I quickly give my face a onceover in the small mirror of my compact. I’ve really never given much consideration to how I’ve looked before; I’ve always felt secure with my simple appearance. I wear very little makeup and the only thing I do beauty wise is get my eyebrows waxed. But for Holt, I want to feel more than simple; I want to be attractive.

I brush a light coat of taupe lipstick across my lips, rub them together, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. With a deep breath, I grab my clutch and shove my cell phone into the inside pocket. My legs feel like Jell-O, much like they did last week when I walked across the bar to ask Holt out for a drink, only this time, I’m walking across the office—his office—for lunch. My, how things have changed in only a matter of days.

My heels click along the travertine tile, announcing my arrival. Mrs. King looks up from her computer and smiles at me again. “Mr. Hamilton is waiting for you. Go on in.” She gestures toward the door but doesn’t get up to let me in like she did this morning.

“Thank you.” I tuck my clutch under my arm. This morning, Holt’s glass office was on display for anyone walking by to see. This afternoon, the opaque privacy glass doesn’t allow anyone to see into his office. His office has glass that goes from clear to opaque, providing immediate privacy.

I open the door quietly and find him sitting at his desk, shuffling through a stack of papers. When he looks up, I nearly gasp when I find him wearing dark-rimmed glasses.

“What?” he asks, pushing the stack of papers away from him.

I blink. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

He grins and sits back in his chair. “Now you know. You should’ve asked me when we were playing twenty questions.” He tips his head to the side and steeples his fingers.

“What other secrets are you keeping from me?” I tease him and close the office door behind me. I expect him to continue the playful banter, but almost immediately, his face falls flat and he looks odd, almost pensive. “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly wondering if I’ve upset him.

He shakes his head a little and smiles. “Sorry.” He rubs between his eyebrows. “Just got distracted for a minute. You ready to go?” He pulls off his glasses and tosses them on his desk.

“Yes. I have a two o’clock meeting, so we have to be back by then.”

He glances at the large watch on his wrist and stands up, reaching for my hand.

I shake my head, a spike of panic surging through me. “Not in the office, Holt,” I tell him quietly, pulling my hand away from his.

He pulls both of my hands into his, lacing our fingers together, then he pulls me to him, our noses almost touching. “I’ll respect your wishes for now, Saige. But we’re not doing anything wrong. I won’t hold your hand today, but I will tomorrow,” he says certainly.

I try to hide my wince. “Maybe we should just keep this on the down low—”

“Why?” he interrupts me, his face twisted in annoyance.

“I’m new here,” I remind him. “I’m still navigating my way, building relationships, and trying to prove I’m a valuable employee. I don’t want anyone thinking that our spending time together is going to advance my career.”

He smirks at me. “Do you think I’d promote you or give you special attention based upon you sleeping with me?”

His words have me flustered. “That’s not what I said, but I don’t want my coworkers to think that.”

He shrugs, annoyed. “Who cares what they think?”

“I do,” I argue. “I like my job. I like the people I work with. I like the owner of the company I work for.” I look pointedly into his perfect blue eyes. “I just don’t want to screw that up.”

“You won’t.” He sighs, relenting. “But I understand, and I will respect your wishes outside of this office. Inside this office, that’s another story.” He snakes his arm around my waist and presses a light kiss to the side of my neck. I feel my breath catching as chills shoot through me and goose bumps erupt on my skin. His touch has that affect on me.

“Do you see that conference room table?” he breathes into my ear. I nod and look at the smooth wood table behind him. “You’re going to find out what it’s like to be f*cked on that table.” I swallow hard and inhale sharply. “And my desk,” he says, turning me gently by my chin to look at his large executive desk. “You’re going to be bent over the edge of that desk with your perfect ass in the air, trying to not scream my name.” His blue eyes darken as he speaks.

“Holt,” my voice hitches, and I have to hold on to his biceps to keep my unstable legs from giving out.