Want & Need (2 page)

Chapter Three

Several minutes later, we came up for air, both of us panting. I was nothing short of a hot, flustered mess after groping my way across his delicious torso. Being able to finally touch him achieved nothing but to further my need for him. Naked images of him flooded my mind, sending my imagination into overdrive.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, a stupid grin on my face.

He pecked my lips before rearranging his shirt. Once he’d finished, he stood, staring at me, a smile folding over his lips.

I pushed myself away from the wall, smoothing down my own clothes. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself any longer.”

Those simple words sent my head into a complete spin. It seemed so…surreal to hear those words coming from him, from my
boss
. I faltered, not really knowing what to say back to that.

“I’m guessing by the fact you didn’t slap me, you’re glad I couldn’t?” he said.

That I could definitely answer. “You have no idea.”

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

“Is that just a formality before the inevitable?”

In mock horror, he slapped a hand over his chest. “I can behave for however long is required.”

“Of course you can.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Miss Wilson.”

“Maybe it is,” I said, giving him a cheeky wink.

“Friday night. After all, we don’t want you tired for work the next day, do we?”

I flashed him my best smile. “No, not at all.”

***

By the end of the week, the atmosphere between us evolved into nothing short of animalistic lust, a primitive need to satisfy each other’s cravings.

Paul handed me work at any given opportunity, stroking my fingers as he passed it over. Each piece I handed back would result in a closed door, stolen kisses, and disturbed clothes. I had a feeling dessert on Friday night would not consist of food—unless the food was on one of us.

The burning desire smouldering deep inside me was something I’d never harboured for anyone else. Something about him bewitched me, lost me in a world of insatiable daydreams, made me question the true depths of myself.

I wasn’t really the relationship type of girl. Sleeping around wasn’t my thing either, just the odd one-night stand here and there. My dating history was sporadic at best and not what you would classify as experienced. My longest relationship had lasted a mere six months before I chucked the poor guy when he confessed his love for me. On the surface, commitment scared me, and the second I heard the dreaded ‘L’ word, I would run for the hills, leaving them stood balking in my dust.

Yet Paul captured my attention to an extent I never knew a man could. I wanted him for more than one night, but the alternative option to that scared me. To bare my soul to someone, to bond myself to them and only them…it made me shudder. But a part of me, deep down, craved that stability—I just chose to ignore it.

I finished work on Friday, my nerves a bouncing ball of excitement and curiosity. I didn’t need any drugs to get high, I just needed him.

As I took the last piece of work into his office, I bent a little lower than necessary, giving him the perfect view of my cleavage.

He raised an eyebrow and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Anybody would think you were trying to seduce me, Miss Wilson.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not normally, no. However, I do recall you set me a challenge and I intend to complete it.”

I settled a hand on my breast, fiddling with the ends of my hair. “We’ll see about that.”

***

I chose a strapless, black bodycon dress for my hot date. Slipping on a pair of nude stockings and some slinky black heels, I made final adjustments to my hair and makeup before his timely knock at the door.

Dressed in a soft lemon-coloured shirt and a pair of jet black trousers, he looked every inch the crisp, confident man I expected.

“Wow,” he said. “You scrub up well.” He held his hand out, flashing me a dazzling smile.

I giggled as I took his hand. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He played the gentleman part and opened the car door for me. Once inside his sleek BMW, the tension between us dissolved when our eyes met. We both indulged in a nervous giggle before settling into small talk on the way to the restaurant.

The conversation ended with him asking about my best friend, Molly, who also worked at the same company. She would go berserk over this news, but at the moment she was on a plane on her way back from Hawaii.

He was taking me to a small Indian restaurant about thirty minutes away. They served the best prawn masala I’d ever tasted and I couldn’t wait to taste it again. Being all traditional décor, complete with old paintings on the wall and Indian music playing in the background, it was a fantastic setting.

As we walked inside, a waiter led us to our table in the far corner of the small room. Two pink candles danced their flames on every table, a cosy, romantic vibe accompanying the dimmed lights.

Several minutes later, food and drinks were ordered and we were left to our own world once more. Paul raised an eyebrow as I ordered my favourite meal, which in comparison to his Vindaloo, was rather plain.

“I don’t like ordering stuff I might not like, wasting money and the chance of a good meal.”

He laughed. “I like your logic. But I love spicy food and see it as a challenge.”

I ran my tongue over my lips. “Is it just food you like spicy?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “I am completing that challenge this evening, Miss Wilson.”

I reached for my drink and wrapped my tongue around the straw with deliberate, slow precision. His eyes darkened, glued to the sight of me stroking and flicking the end of my new toy.

Playing the innocent card, I threw him off track. “So, what happens at work now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, isn’t this kind of a bit weird? You
are
my boss.”

He grinned, leaning across the table as he dropped his voice. “From Monday to Friday, eight thirty to four, yes, I am. Outside of those hours, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

I dropped the straw and traced my index finger over my bottom lip. “That’s a dangerous statement to make to a woman like me.”

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “That sounds interesting.”

“On a serious note, what happens come Monday morning? Isn’t it going to be a bit weird? I’ve been paranoid enough all week that people have noticed something.”

“I’m a director, Kyra. No one is going to challenge me except the other directors or Mr. Collins himself. Stop worrying.”

“But isn’t it frowned upon for employees to date?”

“It is advised against.”

“And you’re my boss, which makes it worse.”

“Stop worrying. You’re not going to get into any trouble. Just relax and enjoy it, okay?”

I nodded, taking my time to sip my drink through my straw. Knowing full well his gaze was again fixed on my lips, I entertained the moment for as long as I could.

Our starters arrived, dissolving the building atmosphere like an antacid in a glass of water. After a few seconds to settle into our delicious dishes passed, the dreaded interview process began.

“So, tell me about your hobbies,” he said.

“Well, I like reading quite a lot. I keep snakes. I used to horse ride but haven’t done that for a long time. I’m also doing a psychology degree so that takes up a lot of my spare time.”

I took a mouthful of my food and nearly died on the spot from how beautiful it was. The creamy sauce blanketed my tongue with just a hint of coconut. He took a mouthful of his volcano on a plate and never even flinched.

“You keep snakes?”

I laughed. “Why does everyone always pick up on that bit?”

“You just don’t look like the kind of woman to keep snakes.”

“And what am I supposed to look like?”

He laughed and evaded the question. “So what snakes have you got?”

“A Burmese, four boas, and two kings.”

He stopped eating for a moment, his jaw dropping wide open. “You’ve got a Burmese python?”

“Yes, why?”

“Aren’t they big?”

“Medium sized really. He’s a pussycat. He’s called Fluffy.”

He almost choked on his food, which had me in stitches. “Fluffy? Are you being serious?”

I nodded. “Irony at its best.”

“So why no more horse riding?”

I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to touch on this too much. “Bad accident. I will do it again one day but not yet.”

I revelled in the perfect food, my mind wandering, heading down roads of his tight abs just across the table, just underneath that shirt…

“What happened?” he asked.

I hesitated for a second, trying to keep my composure. “Some idiot thought it would be funny to beep his horn right behind me whilst I was riding on the road. My horse bolted and ran across the path of an oncoming lorry. The lorry clipped his back end and sent us flying into a dyke. Apparently, I’m lucky to be alive.”

I said it as casually as I could to keep a lid on my emotions. The horse involved, Scotch, I bred myself from my father’s favourite mare before he died. Scotch and I achieved a lot in the eight years we had with each other. Five years had now passed and I still ached for him every day.

“Crikey. That sounds awful. What happened to you? And the guy who caused it?”

“He was sent down for five years. It was no justice for me though. He’d killed my best friend through some stupid prank of wanting to show off in front of his mates. I had a broken arm, a broken hip, two broken legs, a punctured lung, a ruptured spleen, shattered ankles, and a fractured skull. I was in the hospital for months and out of work for a year.”

“That’s pretty bad. I’m sorry to hear that. You’re okay now though?”

I nodded, smiling as I delved into my food.

Silence fell over us as we both cleared our plates. I tried to push thoughts of Scotch to the back of my mind but it never worked—he was always there.

After the waiter took our empty plates, he picked the conversation back up.

“So, the psychology degree. What’s that about?”

I smiled, my hopes and dreams flooding through me. “I want to be a criminologist.”

I was studying part-time through the Open University. The course would take six years before then specialising. After that, I would have to gain a doctorate at a university, which would be another three years.

“Impressive. Does that mean you’ll be leaving us one day?”

I nodded, grinning. “One day.” Downing the rest of my drink, I decided it was his turn. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. What are your hobbies and stuff?”

“I’m a bit of a film geek. I am also quite partial to a book or two here and there. I go fishing every so often and I like to ski too. That’s about it.”

I pursed my lips as his eyes twinkled at me with the hint of a secret. I let it go, pushing the questions away. “I guess you’re always busy at work?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

I blushed as I thought of the next thing I wanted to ask but I had to know. “Do you mind me asking how old you are?”

He grinned. “I wondered if you’d ask that. I’m thirty-five.”

I cocked my head to one side and sat back in my chair. “I’m guessing you read my personnel file, which is how you knew where I lived seeing as you didn’t ask for my address? So, I’m also guessing you know how old I am?”

He laughed. “I’m sorry. Guilty as charged.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Either creepy or using initiative. Depends which way you look at it.”

I burst out laughing at his ridiculous logic.

The waiter came back, asking if we would like dessert. We both declined before asking for the bill. As we left, he took my hand in his, my breath hitching in my throat as we ambled to his car. I couldn’t help but think how wrong this felt with him being my boss, but at the same time it felt so…
right.

He pulled up on my driveway a short while later, opening the door for me once again before walking me to my front door.

He took my hand in his, brushing his lips across the back of it. Tingles pulsed through every inch of me at his soft gesture.

“Thank you for a lovely night,” he said.

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for a lovely night too.”

“Can I call you tomorrow?”

I smirked. “You can call. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”