Chelsey
He steps closer to me. I hear the click of his expensive leather shoes on the hardwood floor.
He moves like a predator cornering his prey. He reaches out and grabs my chin.
His fingers dig into the soft skin of my jaw. He forces my head back until my neck is arched and vulnerable.
"You've been driving me crazy for weeks," he growls. "Walking past my desk with that sway in your hips. Letting me catch glimpses of your lace when you bend over. Now it's my turn to drive you mad."
I nod, a small, needy sound catching in my throat. Every nerve in my body is screaming.
His scent—expensive cologne mixed with his own raw musk—is making me lightheaded.
"Take off your blouse," he commands.
The words are hard and sharp. My fingers are clumsy and shaking. I nearly rip a button off the
