Contract marriage with Alpha Enzo

Chapter 4

Amber's POV

Oh. My. Goddess.

The world just f*****g stops spinning. Time stops. My breath stops.

I blink. Then blink again, but he's still right there on the seat, looking no less god-like than he did that night, with one exception—now he looks a whole lot scarier.

There's this scowl on his sexy face like he's about to murder someone. Maybe me?

I clear my throat awkwardly, bracing myself. "Good morning, sir."

If I thought he would answer me, then I'm greatly mistaken. He doesn't utter a word, just keeps staring at me, his eyes piercing through my skin, like he's stripping me n***d.

I shift uneasily on my feet, my heels suddenly feeling too tight. The air in the room shifts, becoming thicker and more congested.

His Alpha aura is so large and too intimidating that I feel small and insignificant in his presence.

And the fact that he isn't even saying anything?

Holy heavens! He's so unbearable. My palms are growing clammy as I stand there like a total fool, sweat pooling on my forehead.

I mentally started counting to ten, half-considering bolting out of the office and never looking back.

"Amber Sinclair?" His voice cuts into my mind.

And damn! I have to stifle the moan that escapes my throat. The way he says my name with that deep baritone, drawly and thick with amusement.

Or is it a surprise?

Either way, I would be damned if I said my p***y didn't just clench at the sound of him. And visions of the other night crash into my mind without warning.

His kisses. His touch. The way his eyes sparkled with dirty mischief as he slid inside of me. The feel of his body as we moved together as one.

Dear goddess, the way he held me after it was all over, like I was—

Damn it, Amber! Get a f*****g grip!

I cut out my nasty thoughts, swallowing hard as I forced myself to focus on anything other than the heat pooling between my thighs.

My gaze drops to the nameplate on his desk, desperate for a distraction. Bold letters stare back at me: "ENZO STEELE."

That name. It sounds so familiar. Like I've heard it somewhere before, in a magazine maybe, or even on TV.

My brain scrambles to remember, to connect the dots, but I can't.

"Is this a f*****g game to you?" I jerk around to the sound of his voice so close to my ears.

A violent shudder rips through me. When did he even move?

Before I can think too much about it, he backs me up against the door, his breath hot against my neck, wreaking havoc on my body.

"Are you ignoring me, Suzy?" His voice is low, almost a growl.

"No, I'm not, sir." I manage, my voice barely audible. "And I'm not Su—"

"What the hell are you doing here for real?" He cuts me off.

"After running away from me two days ago and blocking all forms of contact?" His gaze pins me down, dark and unforgiving.

"Explain yourself."

" I- uhm—" my voice breaks as I rack my brain for the right words.

But, f**k! He's so close. Too close and it's distracting.

I can feel the heat of his body and his musky, masculine, and intoxicating scent. It's doing unholy things to my body.

My pulse is racing so fast I'm sure he can hear it. I can't concentrate. Hell! I can barely breathe.

"Can we just start the interview and get it done and over with?" I managed to say, my lips quivering.

He pauses, his gaze dropping lower, scanning my body with an intensity that makes my stomach flip.

Then a slow, wicked smile curves his lips.

"Are you sure?" He breathes against my ear. "Because I can smell your filthy arousal from here."

My face burns. Heat explodes across my cheeks, and I want to die right here on the spot. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Because hell! He's so f*****g right. I've never been so turned on in my life.

But I'd rather die than admit that.

"I have no idea what you mean." I keep my voice steady, trying to sound firm, even though my body is betraying me.

"I feel nothing for you, sir. I just want to get this interview over with and leave."

He leans in, his mouth hovering dangerously close to my ear. "You didn't sound like someone who felt nothing for me two nights ago when you had my full length buried deep inside you."

I suck in a sharp breath, my face burning hotter than a thousand suns. But I'm not about to back down.

"That night was a mistake, Mr Steele. I wasn't in my right senses. It'll never repeat it— f**k!"

I gasp sharply as his hand suddenly slips into my slacks, shoving my panties aside and brushing his fingers against my folds.

My body goes completely rigid as my brain struggles to process.

Fuck! He really needs to stop pulling this move!

"For someone who's only here for the interview," he murmurs darkly, his fingers feeling my wetness, "you're awfully wet for me."