24. Lorelei

24

LORELEI

I can't lie, watching Kian Callahan devour more buffalo chicken wings than should be humanly possible is addictive.

In this moment, he's no longer the wealthy CFO of Callahan Enterprises. He isn't the pretentious jerk who thinks the world owes him something because of his surname. He also isn't my demanding, overpowering boss. He's just…a young man enjoying some hot wings after watching a football game.

All the pretense has fallen away. Suddenly, we're just…us.

Two people on a…date? Enjoying good food and each other's company. Okay, so that might be pushing it a little bit. More like tolerating each other.

Who the hell am I kidding? This afternoon has been great. Kian has been…pretty great too.

Shit.

Am I actually starting to like my boss?

He drops some bones to the plate in front of him, and I take a moment to study him in this bizarre environment.

This isn't the kind of restaurant I ever pictured him eating in. It isn't fancy. I can't imagine it's won any prestigious awards—they totally should, though, because these wings are insane. Hell, it's even got a napkin dispenser on the table. And yet, Kian looks more at home here than I've ever seen him.

"Kieran killed it this evening," the server who greeted Kian personally when we first arrived says while delivering our drink refills.

"Yeah," Kian says, a proud smile appearing on his messy face.

I laugh; I can't help it. He looks like a little kid who went at the chocolate sauce too hard.

Instantly, I reach for my cell, needing to capture the unbelievable moment on camera. But then I remember. The asshole stole it.

Shaking his head, he pulls a couple of napkins free and wipes his mouth.

"They're going to have an epic season, I can just feel it."

"We can only hope. Kieran is desperate to make the playoffs."

After a little more football talk, the server finally leaves us alone again.

"You need to stop looking at me like that," he says, reaching for another wing.

"Like what?"

"Like you'd rather eat me than the wings."

My chin drops in the hope of looking shocked at his words.

"Seriously?" I hiss.

He smirks and shakes his head.

"I'd make it worth your while; it's not only a chicken wing I know my way around, you know."

"Once again, not interested, thank you."

"Are you going to try to tell me you have a better offer on the table?"

I think about the messages I was exchanging with Ryder last night. All it would have taken was for me to invite him to my place, and he'd have been there and between my thighs in a heartbeat.

At the thought, an image appears in my head—only the face between my legs doesn't belong to my old friend.

Dangerous territory, Lorelei. Very fucking dangerous.

"Yeah, actually, I do," I state firmly.

"Your ex isn't a better offer," he counters.

"Couldn't agree more. He was good, though," I muse, loving the way it makes Kian's jaw tick with annoyance.

"Lorelei," he warns.

I shrug before focusing my attention back on the wings.

" A re you going to listen to me today and drive away the second I step out of the car?" I ask as we sit outside my building.

The sunny fall evening has given way to a torrential downpour that I'm happily avoiding for a few more seconds by arguing with Kian.

"Absolutely not. I would be a very bad boss if I didn't see you to your door."

"It's raining," I point out.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," he deadpans.

"Asshole."

"Nope. Sir, boss, or daddy, remember?"

Deciding that I'm better off battling with the rain than him, I push the door open.

"Thank you for today—it was tolerable. See you in the morning."

I swing the door closed before he has a chance to respond and then sprint toward my building.

The main doors are locked, and it takes me longer than it ever has before to locate my keys at the bottom of my purse.

In seconds, I'm soaked through, my jersey sticking to my body as the chill of the rainwater makes me shiver.

"At last," I cry as I pull them free and let myself in.

Shivering, I race toward the elevator for once, not second-guessing my actions and more than ready to peel my wet clothes from my body.

The doors close and I reach for the back pocket of my jeans for my cell but…

"Fuuuck," I groan.

That asshole didn't give it back.

I'm too busy debating whether to march back out there and have it out with him or say fuck it and just wait until tomorrow morning.

Thoughts of missing messages from Wilder or Hendrix finally force me into action, and I hit the button to open the doors.

Praying that he's still going to be there, I race out of the small space but come to a very abrupt stop when I crash into a hard body blocking my exit.

"What the—" A sharp gasp cuts off my question. "Kian?"

His hands wrap around my upper arms and I'm forced into the elevator until my back presses against the wall.

I'm so shocked, I don't realize that he's hit the button to my floor until we begin moving.

My heart races and my chest heaves as I stare up into his dark green eyes.

He continues to hold me with one hand on my arm. It's innocent, but my entire arm burns red hot.

"What are you doing?" My voice barely comes out as a whisper, and I mentally kick myself for letting him get to me.

His eyes bounce between mine before dropping to my lips.

Everything beneath my waist clenches, my stomach somersaulting.

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing before his full lips part.

"You forgot your cell," he explains roughly.

"A-and you couldn't have just given it back?"

The elevator dings, announcing our arrival, before the doors open.

Cool, fresh air rushes in, and I suck in a deep breath before Kian finally releases me, allowing me to duck around him and step into the hallway.

I don't stop until I'm at my door, my key in the lock, ready to escape inside.

"Can I have my cell, please?" I ask, holding my hand out for it.

He studies me closely before his eyes shift to my outstretched hand.

"Or you could invite me in?" He looks at me through his lashes and damn him, he looks so fucking cute.

His hair is wet from the storm and rain droplets are running down his face, disappearing into his weekend stubble. I don't need to let my eyes drop to know his shirt is as wet and as clingy as mine. I really do not need to see how it sticks to his muscles.

I. Do. Not. Need. To. See. That.

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to listen to myself and do the right thing.

"I don't think that's a good idea, do you?"

He steps closer. His body and scent completely overwhelm me.

It could be a really good idea…

"Only one way to find out, I guess," he rasps, no longer even trying to hide the fact his attention keeps getting stolen by my lips.

Kiss me.

No. No, don't fucking kiss me.

He's your boss.

He's an asshole.

But he's so hot.

"Cell phone please, Kian," I demand again, determined to think with my head and not my pussy.

Movement catches my eye, and my attention drops as he pushes his hand into his pants pocket, making the fabric tighten across his crotch—and successfully showing off the reason he's able to be such a cocky motherfucker.

Oh, sweet mother of Jesus.

Every muscle in my body tightens.

I don't doubt what he said earlier is true about his skills. Hell, there are enough women out there who've happily shared their stories about their night of pleasure with him to prove it. Not that I've looked them up or read any, of course.

But that doesn't change the fact that he's my boss, and that this is a really, really bad idea.

"Temptress." His deep voice vibrates through me, making it even harder to do the right thing.

"Cell phone."

I breathe a sigh of relief when he places it in my hand.

"See you in the morning, Boss," I say before forcing myself to take a step back and swing the door closed.

But I don't walk away. I can't.

Instead, I reach up on my toes and look through the peephole.

My heart is still racing, my body screaming that I just made the wrong decision as he lifts his hand and combs his fingers through his wet locks. His eyelids lower and his lips part.

He looks tortured. It occurs to me that I should probably be enjoying watching him struggling to pull himself together. And all because of me. But I'm not.

Instead, I feel…confused. Conflicted. Guilty, even.

As proud as I am that I've made him lose control like that, I'm also a little ashamed.

Did I lead him on tonight? Was that reaction my fault?

My breath catches when he steps closer as if he's going to knock. As if he knows I'm here watching him. But then he changes his mind.

It takes him long minutes, but eventually, with one final long look at my front door, he disappears.

My chest constricts as he walks away with his head bowed. He doesn't even take the elevator; he opts for the stairs instead.

"Fuck," I breathe, my head spinning with the events of the day.

I never in a million years would have predicted that he'd turn up here and take me out. It's happened and still, I'm struggling to get my head around it all.

Stepping back from the door, the coldness makes itself known once again, and after abandoning my purse and toeing off my shoes, I make my way through to my bedroom.

I abandon my cell on the bed until I've showered and dealt with my hair. After grabbing a bottle of water, I slip between my sheets and finally check my notifications.

I start with the messages from Wilder and Hendrix, smiling to myself as I read their words. They're just checking in, but it means everything to me that they've taken a few minutes of their day to do so.

Tatum's comes next, and I follow orders and fill her in on the rest of my night with Kian— although I keep those final moments to myself. I don't understand them, so how the hell am I meant to explain what happened over texts?

And finally, I open the message from Ryder.

I ignored the one he sent earlier today. It didn't feel right messaging him while hanging out with Kian.

Ryde my dick: Have you had a good day?

I tap the side of my cell as I contemplate my answer.

Have I had a good day?

Honest answer… yes. I've had a really good day.

I hate that I have. That I enjoyed spending time with Kian. Sure, he's still demanding and overbearing, and everything I hate. But I'm beginning to see glimpses of another side to him.

Take him away from Callahan Enterprises and he's actually a half-decent person. It is not what I wanted to discover about my boss.

Keeping the wall up between us, that he seems determined to knock down, would be so much easier if he kept the mask in place and continued to show me that he's a cold, uncaring asshole.

Lori: Yeah, I have. You?

Ryde my dick: Had a quiet one. Mostly just waiting for you to reply and bring me some excitement.

Lori: Oh yeah? What kind of excitement did you have in mind?

It's wrong. I shouldn't engage. Not when my head is full of the man I've just turned down and slammed the door on. But also…it's the perfect distraction from the man who needs to get out of my thoughts.

Nothing good can come from him getting up in my head and featuring in my dirty thoughts.

Nothing good at all.