The Owner's Box

Chapter 9

Harlow POV

Black Mambas Office

"What about Peyton?" Saint shrugs nonchalantly.

"What about Peyton?" I mockingly repeat her words, raising an eyebrow. "You just swallowed my tongue. Are you okay with cheating on your girlfriend?" I ask Saint.

I am not in the game of being with, dating, or hooking up with someone that lies. I've been there, and that's an experience that I wouldn't want to partake in again.

As I reflect on the situation, I can't help but feel a sense of disappointment in myself for allowing the kiss to happen. It goes against my principles. I know I shouldn't have let it escalate, and now I feel like shit for allowing things to reach this point.

"Now I'm an asshole for kissing you when you're actually with someone." I scuff.

"Peyton isn't my girlfriend" Saint laughs, her tone laced with amusement.

Confusion creases my brow as I struggle to comprehend her words. "What do you mean? I saw her with my own eyes," I respond, my voice tinged with skepticism. "At your house, and I watched you both tonight, dancing and grinding on each other."

"It's called dancing, Harlow. Do you not dance?" Saint says sarcastically before continuing, "If you had stayed the other day, I would have been able to explain that to you."

"Really? Wow. So you just let me believe you and Peyton were a thing. That's crazy," I chuckle, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "But that means I don't have to feel bad now."

Saint's expression shifts to one of confusion as she starts to respond, but before she can finish her sentence, I close the distance between us and press my lips to hers.

Saint steps back, but with each step she takes, my lips follow, unwilling to break the connection. Eventually, she grunts as she backs up into the oak desk, the desk providing an unexpected barrier behind her.

I kiss her and she kisses me back. Our kiss becomes slow and sloppy, both of us fighting for dominance with our tongues. Neither of us willing to give up control, each seeking to assert our dominance and desires in the heat of the moment.

I place my hands on Saints ass squeezing and then slapping it. Saint breaks the kiss and breathes out harshly trying to catch her breath. "Uh-uh, don't slap my ass." she hisses into my mouth. I just smirk at her before going back in for another kiss.

Saint kisses with a captivating intensity that leaves me breathless. With each kiss, she communicates desire, longing, and a hunger for connection that transcends words.

I leave her lips and begin trailing kisses on her chin and to her neck. I found the pulse spot on her neck and began to suck. She moaned.

"Uh-uh. Don't leave any marks. I—I can't have them at work." Her breathing intensified as I continued to leave light bites on the same spot.

I ease her up onto the desk.

Her hands immediately wrap around my waist as she locks her ankles around my legs and pulls me in closer.

I move my hands under her shirt and feel her stomach quiver as she looks up at me. I pull her shirt over her head and throw it across the room.

She's watching me intently, her eyes like windows into a kaleidoscope of emotions.

I move my right hand into her pants and press on her clit through her briefs. She lets out a low moan opening her mouth a little.

I use this moment to bite on her bottom lip. I suck on her lip as I release it then bring her into a kiss.