A business arrangement forced us together.
His power keeps us tangled.
And every time I try to pull away... I want him even more.
" * " indicate more mature/ explicit scenes, the more the spicier
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ALESSANDRO
Three weeks. That's how long it had been since the rooftop.
Long enough to convince myself I'd imagined half of it. Long enough to bury the memory under a pile of meetings, late nights, and empty whiskey glasses.
But not long enough to forget the way she'd looked at me when she said "Perfectly" and sat on my lap like she belonged there
Not long enough to forget the taste of her lip gloss when she finally stopped pretending like there wasn't something inevitable between us.
Usually when I get too lost in work, girls relentlessly hit me up. I'd hit them back and arrange that up. Not Amira she couldn't give less of a fuck if we're in contact or not and that's why it's been 3 weeks. My lack of communication, her lack of giving a fuck.
Tonight was supposed to be business. Just business. The contract signing was in an hour, and I'd made a point of arriving early so I wouldn't have to—
"Señor Armani."
Her voice hit me before she even stepped into view. Her perfume entered in the room shortly after and danced around me. Warm, teasing, with just enough edge to make me remember every argument we've ever had.
Fuck why does she have to smell so good?
I turned. And there she was. Her pretty doll face looking down at me like I'm not shit. That's fine, at least she's looking at me
Dress slit high enough to make my pulse spike. Hair silky straight, tossed over one shoulder cascading down her waist exposing the line of her neck and elegant collarbone . That same damn lip gloss, that makes her lips look absolutely delectable.
She looks so fucking sexy in her business attire
"Harper," I said, careful to keep my voice level. "You're late."
She smiled, slow, poking her lips out a bit until pulling her cheeks up, infuriating. "You're early."
We stood there for a beat, the kind of silence that isn't that fucking silent at all. The kind of silence that makes me question if she wants to slap the shit out of me or fuck me. My jaw locked. Her gaze slid deliberately slow over me, until it landed on my tie.
"Didn't peg you for a navy tie guy," she said while looking unimpressed .
"I'm full of surprises."
"Mm." She stepped closer, just enough to graze my arm as she passed. "Not as many as you think."
It should've ended there. I should've let her walk into the conference room. But my hand shot out before I could think better of it, fingers curling around her wrist.
She looked back, eyebrow raised. "Problema?"
I leaned in, my voice low enough that only she could hear. "Keep pushing me, Amira, and I'm going to stop pretending I don't want to pin you against the nearest wall."
