Chapter 17 - James

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I don't know what I'm doing, and frankly, I don't give a shit. This girl, backed up against the wall of my office, is breathing so hard there is only one possible interpretation left for this reaction of hers. And I want to hear it from her. I want her red sultry lips to spell it out for me, I want to hear her sweet voice tell me her secret.

"Your boss is waiting for an answer, Miss Lewis." I smile at the deep shade of red on her cute little cheeks. "And he promises he won't be angry."

I expect another evasion maneuver, I expect her to tell me that nothing again, but I don't expect this.

She raises one of her delicate hands as if to push me away but then lowers it onto my abs and lets it rest there. Even though she is barely touching me, the feel of her fingertips on my stomach burns right through my dress shirt, setting me ablaze. The air in the room turns so incredibly thick, it is so charged with electricity that I can almost hear it buzz.

When she realizes that I don't take her hand off me, she tentatively slides it up to my chest and her fingers begin to toy with the white fabric that separates our skin. Her eyes stare into mine, as if she is looking for affirmation. Dammit, girl, the affirmation is right here, right beneath your hand, can't you feel my heart pounding violently against your palm?

"You really won't get mad?" she suddenly whispers.

"No," I reassure her, my voice about to fail me. "I won't."

As lightly as a breath of wind, her other hand cautiously feels of the muscles on my stomach. I can't be certain, it is too quiet, but I'm still convinced she sighs at the contact. Slowly, tormentingly slowly, her hand drifts up to my chest, examining it with delicate caresses.

I'm running out of air, I need to breathe, but I seem to have forgotten how. Everything around me seems to slip away, disappear into oblivion, everything but her. I'm so painfully aware of her touch, and when I feel it on the nape of my neck, oxygen rushes back to my brain, hitting me full speed, as I can't but gasp, forced to inhale salvaging air. The sensation of her fingertips caressing my bare skin fiercely pulses through my body, electrifying every inch of me.

Her hands send shivers through my neck and down my entire body as they begin to tremble, while she gradually raises up on tiptoes, not letting go of my gaze. Christ, what is she doing to me?

Her petite figure stretches up to me, and then I feel her warm lips so gently brush over mine that for a second I'm not sure she even intended it to be a kiss.

But it was, and good god, I want more. Desire fogs my brain, floods every inch of my completely shaken up body. Something in my pants begins to stir, pressing harder and harder against the zipper of my black slacks, demanding to be unwrapped, insisting on being attended to. Fuck, I want her. I want her so badly it takes a colossal amount of effort to restrain myself.

Even though there is nothing in this world I want more at this moment, I'm not going to touch her. No. I told you I won't be the guy to take advantage of a girl whose life got turned upside down and who is clearly hurting. What will happen next is all up to her. I need her to know she is safe with me, I need her to know that she is in charge and that whatever happens, happens because she wants it and not because she was pressured into something.

When she withdraws, I sense that she is shocked about what she has just done. She pulls her hands away so quickly, like she had placed them in boiling water, but I catch them, letting my fingers carefully fold around their silky skin. I hold them in the small space that is left between our bodies, my thumbs tenderly stroking her palms, and smile.

"That was a hell of a lot of nothing, Miss Lewis."

Why does she look so terrified? Did I say something wrong? She jerks away her hands and I step back to give her some space, but I don't understand what's going on.

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