Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter NINETEEN.

Onika Cookie Maraj.

"IT'S hard for me to believe you're serious." She's driving me crazy with how she's touching me. I can't think. And the way she's looking at me isn't much better.

At this very moment her sole focus is on me. That penetrating dark gaze of her locked on my face. As if nothing and no one else matters. All that intensity is tough to deal with.

Of course, she wants something from me. Not like she can be a complete ass and expect me to be agreeable.

Despite my instinct to scream No! and flee the restaurant, I take this moment to study her, my gaze roving over her greedily. She's wearing a black sweater that stretches across her chest, emphasizing her broad yet feminine shoulders. Her dark honey hair gleams beneath the soft glow of the lights shining from above.

More than one woman has glanced in her direction since I sat down. Power, wealth, authority, it radiates from Beyoncé in palpable waves. Funny how I can forget that when I'm not around her. How potent she is to my well-being.

Couple all that potency with a devastatingly gorgeous face and outrageously sexy body, no woman is immune.

Including myself, as much as I loath to admit it.

"What's so difficult for you to believe? I've already gotten your boss's approval. We're ready to move forward." She smiles, drags her thumb across my knuckles yet again. A bolt of heat rushes through me at the seemingly innocent touch. She knows what she's doing to me, how she affects me. This is an act to make me agreeable.

Stupid idiot that I am, I'm falling for it despite the warning bells screaming inside my head. "For how long again?"

"Two weeks tops."

How simple she makes it sound. She snaps her fingers and makes it all happen, just like that. Could I really stand to be around her for any extended length of time? I have no willpower when it comes to Beyoncé. She's a weakness of mine. Like indulging in too much chocolate and bad movies on a Sunday afternoon.

Only a million times worse.

"And Sharon readily agreed to this without protest?" I found it hard to believe. She needs me around, she's so busy. I don't know how she can afford to let me go, even if it's only for two weeks.

"The prestige of her design company working with Hush and Knowles is more than enough incentive for her to have you come work for me." She pauses, the confident expression on her face downright breathtaking. "You really think she'd refuse me?"

Could anyone refuse her? She's a Knowles, after all. And so arrogant with it, I wish I could tell her no. Just once. Right now would be the perfect time-but the opportunity she's offering me is just too tempting and Sharon would kill me if she's already agreed. She knows it too. "What you're suggesting... it's crazy. You really think we can get this project off the ground and ready in two weeks?"

"We can do whatever we set our minds to. Just say yes, Onika." Her gaze drops, landing on my mouth, where it lingers a fraction too long. My lips literally tingle, as if she physically touched them.

Extracting my hand from her grasp, relief floods me as I finally break the physical connection between us. When she touches me, I can't think. I have a problem thinking when she's looking at me too, so I drop my gaze. Study the tablecloth in front of me, which is a stark, pure white, made of fine, thick linen.