Damien's POV
"Blackwell, can you drop these off on twelve?"
I looked up from my desk as my supervisor, Marcus zen, dropped a stack of files in front of me.
"Sure," I said, grabbing them, "What are they?"
"Quarterly reports for Henderson," he said, already walking away.
"Meeting room C."
I stood up and tucked the files under my arm, glancing at my watch.
Five thirty already, most people were already heading out for the day.
I made my way to the elevator and pressed the button for the executive floor.
Elena's floor.
The doors closed, and I leaned back against the wall.
The yacht night played in my head again. The way she'd grabbed my shirt, pulled me in, and kissed me just like that.
Her fingers in my hair, tugging hard.
The sound she'd made when my hands slid under her top.
I
