"See you tomorrow," I growl, already stomping toward the door, jealousy eating me alive.
If Knox or Lauren says anything, I don't hear them. I head straight for the elevator, jabbing the button for the fourth floor. My heart thunders against my ribcage. I yank at my tie, loosening it. It doesn't help calm my big ass down any at all.
I feel like the addicts I used to deal with. I could always tell when they were high or coming down. They lacked the ability to sit still, instead constantly moving, moving, moving. Tapping their fingers or toes, bouncing their legs, or picking at their faces until they made themselves bleed. I feel like that now, only I've never ingested, injected, or otherwise put a drug in my body. It's Miranda. She stripped away any pretense of restraint I have left when she put her hands on me today.
She may be innocent, but she's curious, eager to explore. I can't wait to take her where she's itching to go, can't wait to teach her how much pleasure she can handle. I've thought about that almost as much as I've thought about douche Richard today.
I'm not going to be able to think straight until I make her mine.
I pace in restless circles, cursing the elevator until it finally arrives. Thankfully, it's empty. Everyone is trying to go down to the main floor or parking garage, not deeper into the building. Everyone is eager to punch out and head home. I'm not. The last thing I want to do is leave.
Leaving means we're that much closer to Miranda going out with douche Richard tonight. I'm never again saying something I don't mean. This is literal torture. I'd rather be pepper sprayed and tased than let her go tonight. For real.
"Stupid," I growl, glaring at my reflection in the chrome and glass. My eyes are on fire with some emotion I'd rather not name, my jaw clenched so tight I'm surprised I haven't snapped it yet. The fact that I look slightly unhinged should probably worry me.
It doesn't. Neither does the fact that I feel slightly unhinged.
The elevator doors slide open. I barrel out of them, almost knocking down the woman rushing to get on the elevator. She huffs, muttering under her breath about me being rude. Everyone knows elevator etiquette says to stay out of the fucking way until those on are able to get off, but I bite my tongue instead of telling her that. I grit out an apology, forgetting about her before the words have even left my lips.
Miranda's still sitting at her desk, her dark head bent. She's looking at her phone, her brows creased. She doesn't look happy, which is intolerable. I want to make this woman smile every day of forever if she'll let me.
"Oh, hey," she says, glancing up at me. Her gaze runs over me, her eyes glazing over. She likes looking at me, which makes me feel like a fucking king. And then her frown deepens, the crease between her brows growing. "Jason? Is everything all right?"
"Will be," I growl, shutting the door to her office and then stalking across the compact space toward her. Unlike my office downstairs, hers is small with no windows. That suits my purposes. As soon as I reach her side, I turn her chair toward me and then pick her up with my hands around her waist. Her sweet scent hits me and my mouth starts watering. My stomach growls like I'm starving for her. I think I may be.
Jesus. This gorgeous girl has me by the balls and doesn't even know it.
"What are you doing?" she asks, but she doesn't try to push me away. Oh no. She wraps her arms around my neck, her body almost pliant in my arms.
"This." My mouth crashes down on hers. Only when my lips are on hers and her taste is in my system does the furious churning of my thoughts fall silent. I kiss her hard, consuming her like she's air and I've been struggling to breathe for days.
She kisses me back with equal fervor, her arms so tight around me it's like she's trying to fuse us into one being. She tries to wrap her legs around my waist, but her skirt gets in the way, making her grumble and tug at my suit jacket in frustration. I help solve her problem by yanking the skirt up around her trim thighs. The delicate fabric tears a bit, but she doesn't seem to notice or care.
Her legs wrap around me, putting her hot center right up against my cock. The hard bastard nestles in that sweet spot like he's home. As far as we're concerned, he is. He lives between her legs now, just like I live right here, with her in my arms.
"Jason," she breathes against my lips, writhing and wriggling all over my cock. "I need…I need…"
"I know what you need, pretty baby." She needs me to claim that sweet cherry, show her what her body is all but begging for.
Not yet. Not yet.
I can't fuck her yet. If I do, she'll never learn to trust me…to love me. And I need this girl to love me more than I've ever needed anything before. It's almost terrifying how much I need her to fall for me. I'm not going to be able to relax or think until I've got her all locked up tight.
But I don't have to be in her to take care of her.
I wedge her between my body and the wall, pulling her skirt up until it's around her waist and her little panties peep out at me. If I'd needed proof that she has no interest in Richard, her panties would have confirmed it. They're simple white cotton with little black Mickey Mouse ears printed all over them. They're quirk and cute, not something she would have chosen if she planned on anyone seeing them. I may not know everything about her, but I know that much.
The wet spot on the front grows rapidly as she wiggles all over my cock, trying to get herself off. Her mouth is slightly parted, her eyes glazed with pleasure. If I could take a picture of her like this, I would. One day soon, I will.
I wrap my hands around her hips and boost her up a little higher. My fingertips sink into her supple ass cheeks, pulling a groan from my lips. My cock throbs, my balls so full they ache. I bounce her, grinding my dick against her at the same time.
Her nails scratch at the back of my neck before she plunges her fingers into my short hair.
"Keep your eyes open," I demand. "I want to see you comin' for me."
She bobs her head in a nod, but I'm not sure if she knows what I'm saying or not. She's so turned on, she's almost delirious with need. It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen. I'm going to keep her like this every day for the rest of my life because she is utter goddamn perfection right now.
I slip one hand between us, touching her through her panties.
"Mine." The hungry growl bursts from my lips before I can stop it. She feels like silk against my fingertips. Even through her panties I can feel how soft she is. How wet she is. Heat sears at my fingers, turning me into a desperate, greedy beast.
I barely manage to rein it in. It takes all the willpower I possess to keep myself from tossing her down on her desk to fuck her raw. I've been on the edge since last night. Touching her pussy is going to send me free-falling straight over the cliff.
I need her. Need, need, need, roars the greedy beast inside, rattling the bars of his cage like a demon. He's salivating for her, ready to explode.
I grit out a curse and slide her panties to the side.
Ah, fuck.
Her slit is bare, her juices glistening on her lips. Her little clit is hard and swollen, probably painful with need. My mouth waters at the sight. My stomach growls.
"I gotta taste it. Fuck."
I part her lips with my thumb, wetting the digit with her juices. She cries out, jolting upward. Her hips tighten around my waist, a keening whimper echoing through the room. If anyone else is still on this floor, they can probably hear her.