Briar Point of View
Briar had barely settled back into her work when one of the other receptionists appeared beside her desk.
“Briar?” the older woman said softly. “Mr. McCartney would like to see you in his office.”
Briar’s fingers froze above the paperwork. Her mouth went dry, and a storm of questions crashed through her mind. What now?
She had arrived on time. Her reports were finished. She hadn’t slipped up once.
Or had she?
A heavy knot twisted in her stomach. Was he in one of those moods again? Just the thought sent a rush of heat flooding through her body. Chase McCartney had the kind of stamina that left her trembling and sore for days. The memory of his mouth on her skin, his strong hands pinning her down, made her thighs press together involuntarily. God, that man.
Pushin
