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61. Lorelei

61

LORELEI

T his week has been hell.

It shouldn't have been. It should have been blissful.

A whole week without my demanding, overbearing asshole of a boss.

But it was anything but.

Instead of loving the peace, I found myself craving his presence more and more every day.

We only exchanged a few emails, each one caused butterflies to erupt the second his name appeared on my screen.

It also felt safe. He was on the other side of the pond. I could let that excitement flutter, all the while hoping that it would lessen and that by the end of the week, I'd have forgotten what it was like to be with him twenty-four-seven. All memories of his touch, his kisses, his everything really would have faded into nothing, allowing me to focus on doing my job and moving on with my life.

I want to say that it was going well, but I'd be lying.

I put every second of my waking hours into work this week so I didn't have to think about the issue with my apartment and the man who was ultimately responsible. But working meant dealing with things for Kian, which meant I never managed more than a few minutes without thinking about him, no matter how hard I tried.

Even when Tate dragged me out for dinner on Tuesday night, he was the main topic of our conversation. She wanted all the ins and outs—literally—that I refused to give her in the bathroom at the Chiefs stadium on Sunday afternoon.

Talking about it hurt more than I expected it to. It brought everything I was trying to squash back up to the surface, and I missed him all over again.

I almost thought I had a handle on it by the time I left on Thursday night. Thoughts about finding new employment disappeared as my confidence in myself to move forward from last week began to grow.

I just fucked my boss…over and over…it'll be fine. Right?

So what, if it was the hottest sex of my life? It was just a…what? Four-night stand?

It's cool. He'll come back next week and it'll be business as usual.

But then my phone rang in the middle of the night, and everything came crashing down around my feet with just a few little heartfelt words.

I may have been the one to end the call, but it was only out of pure desperation and self-preservation.

I couldn't listen to it anymore. Everything he was saying was exactly what I wanted to hear. It was the thing of fairy tales.

But just like fairy tales, it wasn't real.

Kian was blinded by hot sex and a carefree business trip where reality ceased to exist.

Of course he was thinking of me; it was hot. But I'm pretty sure sex with the next woman he finds will be, too.

I'm just the most recent.

My stomach knots painfully and my chest aches as I think about him being with someone else.

The second I hung up the phone, I burst into tears. Tears of sadness, of loss—even if it was of something I never really had. Tears of confusion and loneliness.

I should be living my best life right now. I've got a job I love that pays enough to look after my brothers. I have incredible friends and a lovely home. Everything I've ever wanted.

Well, almost everything.

I didn't manage to get to work on time this morning. When I finally rolled out of bed, my eyes were sore, red, and swollen, and my heart wasn't in much of a better state.

I lied and messaged Melissa to say that I'd forgotten that I had a doctor's appointment this morning and gave myself a few hours to put myself back together.

After doing both a hair conditioning treatment and a face mask, I had the world's longest shower, where I shaved and scrubbed my body until I was sure I'd washed the heartache from it. I spent longer than ever before on my hair and makeup and pulling on a dress I wouldn't usually choose to wear to the office, I took myself out for brunch.

It didn't come anywhere close to fixing anything, but at least I felt good on the outside, even if the inside was a broken, battered, and confused mess.

I arrived just as Melissa was leaving for lunch, and I settled in to work.

One more day in the office without my boss.

Or at least, that's what I was expecting.

I intended to leave by seven to be home in time to watch Wilder's game.

I only had an hour to go, and I'd be free for the weekend—as free as I could get when it was my own thoughts that were tormenting me.

But at just past six o'clock, the elevator door opens, and a heavy yet confident set of footsteps moves toward my desk. Not a second later, Kian appears around the corner, looking as gorgeous as ever in a black fitted suit with an emerald green tie that makes his eyes twinkle.

My heart jumps into my throat, and my lungs cease to work.

Our eyes connect, and I swear he may as well just take a baseball bat to my chest.

But while I freeze in shock, he gets angry.

His expression hardens, and his eyes narrow.

My stomach knots, and damn it if my thighs don't clench beneath my desk.

Damn it, Lorelei. This is why you have such bad luck with men.

Your taste is toxic.

His lips part and I brace myself for what's going to spill from them.

I already know it isn't going to be good.

"What are you still doing here?"

My own frustration builds and I push to my feet, sending my chair shooting out behind me with enough force that it crashes back against the wall.

"I'm working; what the hell does it look like? We don't all get to disappear to London at the drop of a hat because we feel like it."

For a second, disbelief overrides the anger in his expression.

"Because we feel like it? You thought I went because—" He cuts himself off with a huff of disbelief.

He stands in front of my desk with his chest heaving before both his hands lift, his fingers combing through his hair and pulling until it has to hurt.

Briefly, he glances up at the ceiling as if he's praying for strength.

If it's possible, the air around us grows thicker and thicker until I can barely suck in a breath.

But then he looks back at me and everything takes another turn.

His eyes are blazing with a potent mixture of anger and desire. It's impossible not to react to the sight as he looms even closer.

"You've no idea, have you?" he rasps, his voice low and terrifying.

I don't respond. I can't. I'm locked in his dark stare and completely at his mercy.

"It's you, Lorelei. You have done this."

"I-I haven't…I haven't done anything."

My chin drops when he throws his head back and barks out a manic laugh. It's like nothing I've ever heard from him before.

It's as terrifying as it is thrilling.

I cause this reaction in him. Me.

I have never felt more powerful in my life. But I'm not entirely sure I like it.

He's hurting, that much is obvious. I heard the pain in the middle of the phone call. That was hard enough to deal with. But this...hearing it and seeing it...

It's too much.

Way too much.

"No," he agrees, forcing me to remember what I said only a few seconds ago. "You haven't done anything. You're just here," he says, tapping his temple with more force than necessary. "Always in fucking here. Driving me fucking insane."

"I-I can't help that," I cry, at a total loss for what to do here.

"I don't want you to help, Lorelei. I want you to…" His words fade to nothing and I frown, needing the end of that sentence almost as much as I need my next breath.

"You want me to what?" I beg, needing to know what I can do to make this better.

But he never responds. Instead, he spins on his heel and marches down the hallway to his office.

Now would be a really good time to run , a little voice screams in my head.

But I don't run. Not from men. Not even Kian Callahan.

So instead, I stomp after him.

"You can't just march off halfway through…through…that," I shout, throwing my hand back toward where we were as I storm into his office.

I don't see him right away, but I sure hear him as he growls, "Yes, I can. I can do whatever the hell I want."

I jump forward when the door suddenly slams, and when I spin around, I find Kian right behind me.

He's lost his jacket, and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck, his collar undone.

My heart rate races to dangerous levels, and it only gets worse when he steps closer.

His eyes bounce between mine and then down to my lips.

Oh my god. Why did you follow him?

You're fucked. Totally fucked.

"I need you to admit that you feel this too. I need to know that I'm not the only one losing my goddamn mind."

I shake my head, still refusing to accept that there is anything here. It's too terrifying to consider that what we had last week was anything more than a naughty hookup.

"Kian—"

"No," he bellows, his voice echoing off the walls around us as he surges forward. "You don't get to lie to my fucking face. Not again."

His warm, minty breath rushes over my face as the heat from his body calls to mine.

"Give me something. Anything to assure me that I'm not alone here," he begs, his eyes still alternating between mine and my lips.

Oh my god, just kiss me already.

He moves closer still, and I step back, attempting to keep a safe space between us. It works for about five seconds, then I bump into his desk, and not a moment later, his hands land on either side of my hips, trapping me.

"Temptress," he whispers, ducking low and dragging his nose up the line of my jaw.

My fingers curl around the desk, and I squeeze my eyes closed in a lame attempt to ignore the powerful charge of electricity that shoots through me at our limited connection.

I don't breathe. I don't move. I don't do anything.

His lips find my ear, and his breath sends a shiver racing down my spine.

"Give me something," he whispers. "Please."

It doesn't escape my attention that this man standing before me has probably never begged for anything in his life.

But right here, right now, he's begging me to tell him I feel something.

Me.

My body burns red hot. My skin tingles everywhere we're even close to touching. And my heart...that is completely out of control in a way I've never experienced before.

"Kian, I'm not the kind of woman you want?—"

"Fuck that, Lorelei," he snaps, pulling back to stare me dead in the eyes. "Fuck the pretences and the expectations. This…" he says, pointing between the two of us. "It's more than any of that bullshit. It's real. It's real, and raw, and fucking painful. Tell me that you're with me. Please, for the love of God, tell me that you feel it too."

My heart slams against my ribs as he silently begs me to finally confess the truth.

My body acts without instruction from my brain and I find myself nodding. "Yeah," I whisper. "I feel it."

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