CHAPTER ELEVEN

A fter an endless stream of protesting on Chloe’s part, that staying in one of the cabins was a bad idea, she finally gave in. Brooke, Vica, and Justine wouldn’t take no for an answer. They said it was the best plan because then she was within walking distance to not only work, but her new friends too.

Chloe just kept thinking of how close in proximity she was now going to be to Dom.

Even though she was very distracted by the calamity of last night in the dorm, that didn’t stop her mind from wandering to spicy, saucy places when she finally fell asleep.

She woke up with soaked panties and her body on fire.

She hadn’t had sex like that in … ever.

The kind of sex that didn’t just rock your body, but also your soul.

Dom gave her just the right amount of rough and gentle. He took her like he couldn’t breathe or live another second without being inside of her. And yet, she’d never felt more safe or desired.

Only, when her alarm went off that morning, reminding her that he was her boss and they absolutely could not make that mistake again, she was brutally chucked back into reality and the fact that her privacy has been invaded last night, and she needed to find a new place to live.

New friends to the rescue.

Fortunately.

Unfortunately.

So, after yoga, with everything she owned already in her car, she followed Brooke, Vica, and Justine back to the pub and met with Bennett outside the office where he gave her a key and showed her to her new cabin.

“And good news,” Justine added, as they all carried some of her stuff to the cabin, “it’s not the haunted cabin.”

“Haunted cabin?” Chloe asked, her brows raised as she unsuccessfully dodged raindrops and followed Bennett down the one-lane, grassy roadway to the cabins.

“Don’t listen to her,” he said, shooting a glare at his partner. “Cabin Five has had a few minor hiccups over the last few months. But nobody has died there or anything.”

“No, but somebody did die under the pub,” Vica added, earning snorts from the other two women. Bennett glared at her. “What? Too soon? Come on Bennett, if we can’t laugh about this shit, all we can do is cry. And now that I’m part of an amazing family like this, I refuse to cry.”

Brooke leaned into her. “He deserved to die anyway. So … let’s just laugh about it.” Then she let out a maniacal laugh fit for an evil queen.

They reached the cute little one-story, square-shaped cabin with a big, brass number four on the door. “Here we are,” Bennett said. “I hope you like it.”

“As long as nobody breaks in and uses my shower, I’m sure it’ll be great,” she said, waiting for him to unlock the door.

“You’re going to talk to Hawke about what happened, right?” Bennett asked. “Because that shit’s not right.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I know he’s one of the firefighters. So he’s been away from the campsite. But there was a lot of commotion last night, and this morning, over all of it. People left in droves.”

Bennett’s head bobbed. “Yeah. We heard. Let us know if you want any of us to come with you when you talk to Hawke. He’s a great guy, but if you want backup or support, we’re all here for you.”

She smiled, appreciative of how quickly this amazing family had embraced her as friend and rallied behind her. She hadn’t even been homeless one day because of their generosity and kindness.

“We can get her settled,” Brooke said to Bennett. “You go … do what you need to do.”

Bennett smirked. “All right then. I have many things to do.” That last bit was said with sarcasm. He pecked a kiss on Justine’s cheek, then took his leave.

Chloe didn’t have much stuff, so it took no time at all for her to unpack.

The cabin was adorable inside, with a full kitchen, a very nice bathroom, and a queen-sized bed. And the best part—if she concentrated—she could hear the waves lapping down at the shore. Not only was she working directly on the beach now, but she was living on it too.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Justine asked her. “I don’t have to work until three this afternoon at the clinic if you want to hang out.”

“I’ve got work to do, unfortunately,” Vica said with a pout.

Brooke nodded. “Me too.”

“Oh, you guys don’t have to babysit me. Now that I have a kitchen that I’m not sharing with anybody, I can properly go grocery shopping and start cooking. So I might do that. I also need to go talk to Hawke.”

“Are you going to take Bennett up on his offer to take one of the guys with you?” Vica asked. “I would. Not that you’re not strong and capable, it’s just … it’s nice to have backup. And they know Hawke.”

Immediately, Chloe wanted to ask Dom to join her, but she needed to steer clear of him now. Which was going to be impossible since he was her boss and they worked together.

“I don’t know yet. I know he’s working this afternoon …”

“Who is?” Brooke asked.

Oh crap.

“I mean … uh … aren’t they all working this afternoon?”

The women all adopted sly, suspicious looks in their eyes.

“Yes … but you were referring to someone specific.” Brooke’s eyes widened. “Did you mean Dom? Do you have a crush on Dom?”

Vica and Justine both grinned.

“I’m not in high school. Aren’t adults past ‘crushes’?” she said dismissively, only to realize she was probably just digging herself a deeper hole.

“Mostly, yes,” Justine said. “Which means, it’s not a crush. It’s a full-blown attraction. A lustful desire.”

“A never-ending filmstrip of dirtier and dirtier thoughts racing through your mind,” Vica added with a playful brow bob and smile. “Rampant fantasies of naked bodies writhing in pleasure.”

Justine shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Chloe’s face was on fire.

“Your pink cheeks are telling us the truth, so you can remain as tight-lipped as you want,” Brooke teased. “But the fact of the matter is, you’ve got a crush on Dom.”

Chloe pulled in a deep breath through her nose. “Up until Halloween, he hated me. And, he’s my boss. And it would never work. We’re both way too broken. Something we realized on Halloween when we ran into each other on the beach. He was …” Did the women know what he went down to the beach to do? And was she ready to tell more people about Elliott? “Anyway, he was down there, and I was down there, and we talked. And although I don’t think he hates me anymore, neither of us are in a place in our lives to make a mistake like we did the other night.”

Oh shit.

Her hand slapped over her mouth and her eyes went wide.

“What mistake the other night? Like on the beach?” Vica probed. “Did you and Dom have sex on the beach?”

Excitement filled the women’s eyes.

Chloe emphatically shook her head, hating her blabbermouth. “No. Not on the beach.”

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Three women’s jaws nearly hit the floor.

She was never normally this bad at keeping a secret. What was wrong with her?

You finally have friends that you can trust. The dam has broken and there’s no stopping the information flood now.

Where were all the beavers when she needed them? Why couldn’t she locate any brain beavers to clog this broken dam and keep her secrets locked away once more?

Because it felt really freaking good to talk to people.

“But you did have sex,” Brooke pried. “When? Where?”

“I, uh …” Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the closed cabin door, as if Dom would suddenly materialize out of thin air and appear before them.

“The first time Clint and I had sex was on his couch. My feet and knees were all cut up and I’d just nearly drown in the ocean after someone tried to kill me. Sooo …” Brooke shrugged.

“The first time Bennett and I had sex was against a tree on the road in the middle of a run,” Justine said. “Athletic leggings are impossible to remove, by the way.”

“Middle of the night, making pasta, covered in flour on his kitchen flour.” Vica lifted one shoulder. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

Chloe nibbled on her bottom lip. “On the bar. Like … the back counter area.”

Their eyes all went wide.

“It … it wasn’t like we planned it.”

All three of them snorted.

“It never is,” Brooke said with a chuckle.

Why wasn’t the ground opening up so Chloe could fall into the hole and be swallowed up with the mantle of her embarrassment wrapped around her, thick enough to cushion her fall?

“Let me guess, you also said you couldn’t do that again?” Vica asked.

Chloe’s mouth opened, but only a squeak came out at first. “W-we can’t. It was a huge mistake. And we both realized that. He’s my boss. ”

Brooke scoffed. “I was in a rom-com movie about a billionaire boss and his assistant. Happens all the time.” She tapped her chin. “Though, in reality, I don’t think there are many billionaires out there that look like Axel Reyes. They’re all weathered, old, wrinkle farms with liver spots and gout.”

Justine and Vica both snorted.

Chloe sighed and buried her face in her hands. “This is really bad, you guys. What if the island gets wind? You all know it’s a rumor mill.”

“I still don’t see the problem here,” Vica said. “Dom’s hot, you’re hot, the sex was probably hot. Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean it couldn’t work out.” She shrugged. “I also think you’d make a perfect addition to our girls’ club.”

Justine and Brooke both nodded.

“You’re not helping.” Chloe glared at her. “I should go talk to Dom. Maybe double-check that we are in agreement that it was a huge mistake, and we need to just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Riiiiight,” Justine said with roll of her pretty brown eyes, “because that always works.”

Chloe growled and bunched her fists at her side, which just made Justine snicker. “Well, it’ll work this time.” She checked her phone. “The pub hasn’t opened yet, but I know he’s there. I’m going to go talk to him.”

“The room with the safe isn’t soundproof, and it’s small, but it’ll work in a pinch if you decide you’d rather do it again than avoid him like your loins aren’t a complete inferno around him,” Brooke said as she and the other two headed for the door.

Chloe joined them and locked up. “My loins are a regular temperature, thank you very much. And they will remain a nice and non-boiling ninety-eight-point-six, even when I see him.”

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Justine said.

“The lady protests just the right amount.” They reached the back door of the pub kitchen and they all half-heartedly wished her good luck.

“You’re not helping,” Chloe said again.

“Because we’re actually shipping you guys pretty hard,” Vica said before turning to Justine. “I said that right, right? Shipping?”

Justine nodded. “You did.”

Vica beamed.

Chloe glared at all of them, growled, then disappeared into the kitchen. She said hello to all the staff, while earning a curious look from Wyatt as she passed him on her way through to the front of house. But she hesitated at the door, not only because in the past she’d slammed it hard into Dom’s face and hurt him—twice—but also, she needed to mentally prepare herself to see him again.

With her hand on the door, she pushed it open just a little, only to hear Dom speaking with someone else.

“You’ve got skills, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks,” the younger male voice said. “I like bartending. I like people.”

Dom snorted. “I like bartending, but I hate people. What does that mean?”

The other guy laughed. “I don’t know.”

Dom inhaled deeply through his nose. “Start from the beginning, Logan. What happened? I feel like we got the abridged version earlier. But I’m gonna tell you right now, I don’t trust easily. I don’t care if you’re family, you’ve got to earn my trust. And you’ll get there faster by telling us the whole truth.”

“Logan sighed. “Yeah … that’s fair. Well, Mom and Dad let me take two years to ‘go find myself’ since I really didn’t know what I wanted to do after high school. They didn’t like that I didn’t go straight to college, but they also knew the shoes left behind by my siblings were near impossible to fill. So I traveled. I became a diving instructor, a surf instructor, I got my yoga teacher training. I volunteered, and took a month-long vow of silence at an ashram in Tibet. I took cooking classes and met some amazing people. Then, after two years, they told me to come home and grow up. The decision was made for me that I would go into business school like my parents and sister. So I did. And it was the worst three years of my life. I was so fucking depressed. I got a job bartending just so that I could find a bit of joy again. I hated everyone in my cohort. Pretentious, trust fund, frat boys with no accountability.” Dom made a noise of agreement deep in his throat.

“Yeah … I know I have a trust fund too, but that’s been taken away now. And I never touched it.”

“Go on,” Dom said softly.

“I met Leila when she came to my bar. Honest to god, she looked twenty-two. She acted like it too.”

Oh shit.

“She was a smart girl with a wild side. She finished high school at sixteen, which was why she was legit a college sophomore at eighteen. I never knew her dad was a senator until she told me about the baby. I mean, her last name is Johnson. It’s not like it’s unique and one I would immediately associate with a senator. Her dad flipped his shit and sent guys after me. Claiming I needed to marry her or he’d make me pay. I said of course. But then, she lost the baby, and by that point, my parents were already livid with me. Leila’s dad shipped her off to Europe to go live with family there and I took ketamine to cope with everything I’d lost. Then I wrapped my car around a pole and dropped out of college.” The kid’s voice was strained with emotion and the backs of Chloe’s eyes stung with unshed tears. “I don’t totally remember, but I feel like I did it on purpose.”

“Did what on purpose?” Dom asked.

“Drove into the pole while high.” He exhaled and dropped his voice lower, the next words coming out painted with shame and agony. “I just … I didn’t want to live with all that pain. And when I woke up in the hospital, with nobody at my bedside—my parents didn’t even come to the hospital once, and wouldn’t let my siblings come either—I wanted to die then too.” He sniffed. “I saw a social media post about the island. Somebody I follow had come to San Camanez this summer and just raved about it. That’s when I remembered that I still had family out there. Family who might not disown me because I chose a different path. So, I packed up as much as I could and flew out here.”

“Fuck,” Dom breathed. “Logan, I’m really sorry. That’s … that’s some heavy shit, man. And … I know I speak for my brothers too when I say, you’re family and you’re welcome here. Just …”

“Be respectful, don’t fuck up, and don’t do drugs.”

“Pretty easy rules to follow, if you ask me.”

“Very easy compared to back home.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, so, um … you said there’s another bartender here who works nights or something?”

“Oh … uh, yeah. Chloe. She’s … she’s great. You’ll meet her later when she comes for her shift at four. I might get you to shadow her tomorrow night so you can learn the closing routine and get a taste of a busier time.”

“Cool. I look forward to meeting her.”

“I’m just going to go grab more ice. You keep slicing up garnishes. I’ll be right back.”

Uh-oh.

That meant Dom was coming into the kitchen.

She needed to hide.

Now was absolutely not the time to talk to him. Not if he was training a new bartender. One who was family. And who had such a sad, traumatic story.

Like a mouse searching for cover from the hungry cat, she scanned the kitchen, but there wasn’t anywhere. The door swung open and thunk, hit her right in the forehead.

Oh. My. God.

“Oh shit!” Dom exclaimed.

Little birds and stars floated around Chloe’s head as she held her hand to her forehead and backed up.

“Oh crap. Oh fuck. Chloe, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s … it’s okay,” she said, blinking a bunch to banish the birds and stars. “Just payback from when I did it to you, right?” She tried to laugh it off, but even the birds around her head knew she was faking it.

“What are you doing here? You don’t start for hours.”

“I, uh …” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and swallowed. “I, uh … I came to—”

Now is NOT the time.

“I, uh … I came to just tell you that I’m all settled into Cabin Four. So if you want to duck out earlier and go spend more time with Silas, I am happy to start my shift sooner.” She blinked open her eyes and studied him.

Crap. In the less than twenty-four hours since she’d had her legs wrapped around his waist, did he somehow get hotter? She wanted to say that was impossible, but that just simply wasn’t the case.

Maybe it was because she knew he was really good at sex that made him all the hotter.

And maybe she was entirely projecting her own lack of belief in her blatant lie, but he didn’t seem to be believing her either. His blue-hazel gaze narrowed on her and she squirmed, her belly heating in a very pleasant way.

“Actually,” he said, “could we talk for a sec? In private?”

Was that a good idea?

No, it sure as hell was not.

She couldn’t guarantee she’d keep her hands to herself, or her pants on.

What is wrong with you? Are you ovulating or something ?

“Sure,” she chirped like one of those stupid birds circling her head. Most of them were gone now, but there was one little persistent feathered fucker that seemed to almost be laughing at her. “Wh-where?”

“Uh …” he glanced around, “how about in here?” He grabbed her by the elbow, his hand on her skin sending sharp jolts of longing straight between her legs.

Oh yeah, she had to be ovulating. There was no other excuse for her primal need to climb this man-bun-wearing man like a goddamned redwood.

Once they were in the tight, confined space of the cashout room again, he closed the door, making the place feel as spacious as an armoire. Brooke’s mention of this room not being soundproof but working in a pinch slammed back into her brain.

She needed to get out of there before she wound up naked and shaking from orgasms. But when she spun around, her chest bumped his.

“Oh!” She laughed, because if she didn’t, she’d jump him. “Sorry.” She tried to back up, but like the first night when he had showed her how to cash out, there was no place to back up.

He cleared his throat. “It’s okay.” Leaning against the door, he attempted to give them as much space as possible, which was less than four feet.

She could feel his heat. She could smell him—and damn, he smelled good. Most of all, she could see the small patch of discoloration on his neck. Oh crap! Did she give him a hickey last night? Was that from her?

He cleared his throat again. “So, listen … about last night.”

“Total mistake,” she said quickly. “Shouldn’t have happened. Won’t ever happen again.”

His gaze shot up from the floor to her face, and she could have sworn disappointment flashed in his eyes, much like she thought it had last night.

He swallowed. “Right. Um … I couldn’t agree more. I just … I am your boss. And you …” He yanked out the hair elastic that held his man bun in place, allowing the brown tresses to fall down and frame his angular face. Then he shoved his fingers into his hair and glanced away for a moment. “Fuck, this is hard to say. Um … you didn’t feel … wait—I can’t tell you how you feel. Sorry. Did you feel at all like I took advantage of or coerced you? I am your boss—as you reminded me last night. And that comes with a disparity of power. I would never …” Growling, he shoved both hands into his hair. “This is coming out all wrong. I … It was an abuse of power and I’m sorry. I was wrong. And the last thing I want is for you to feel unsafe at work or like there is an expectation. Because there absolutely isn’t. I don’t expect anything of you.”

Even though she’d been listening to him, her gaze kept meandering back to the hickey on his neck. She couldn’t even remember doing it. But that had to be what it was.

How old was she? Fifteen?

She certainly behaved like a teenager with a crush when she was around Dom.

“Chloe?”

“Hmm?” She broke her stare at the hickey and met his gaze.

“Do you feel like I took advantage? Like I coerced you?”

“No!” Wow, that was said with way too much enthusiasm. She cleared her throat. “What I meant to say is, no. There was no coercion. No advantage taking. No … abuse of power. I did not, and do not, feel like if I hadn’t … if we hadn’t … you know , that I would have been fired. You didn’t put pressure on me. It was absolutely consensual.”

His shoulders left his ears and the creases in his face relaxed. “I would never. I swear. I …”

“It was just a mistake. We’re human. We make them. No harm, no foul. Now we can go forward as friends and colleagues. Onwards and upwards. Right?”

Those creases around his eyes and on his forehead were back. And he was taking an awful long time to reply. He was also just staring at her, and even though it should have given her the creeps, all it did was turn her on.

“Right?” she probed. “We’re friends ?”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he swallowed. Her gaze fell to his lips. His very talented, very soft, very full lips. Her own mouth parted as if to just taste the air he breathed, and she slid her tongue across the bottom lip slowly, mesmerized by the way he just watched her.

“Dom? We are friends, aren’t we?” Her voice was weak now.

She’d said the word “friends” so many times now, it didn’t sound like a real word. It didn’t have meaning. Wasn’t that called semantic satiation? Now the word was simply a sound.

And it was a sound she didn’t want to be associated with Dom.

Deep down, she didn’t want to just be friends with him.

He understood her. He challenged her. He made her feel more alive than she’d felt since Elliott died.

And he still hadn’t said a damn word. He just stared at her.

Now, her chest rose and fell quicker. Her body was hot, and the air around them seemed to crackle and spark like there was a live wire overhead.

“Dom … say something. Please.”

He pulled in a deep breath. “Fuck it.”

Then his hands were in her hair, his mouth was on hers, and he spun her around and plastered her back against the door.

Everything inside her flickered to life as she grappled for him. Leaping up onto his hips, she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him and his thickening erection.

Prying his hands from her hair, he pinned her with his hips as he took her wrists, lifted them above her head, and slammed them against the door with his hands, holding her there. He was rough, but she liked it.

His mouth fell to her neck, and he nipped as he rubbed his cock against her pussy, the layers of their clothing between them. The seam of her yoga pants hit her clit just perfectly, and she knew she could probably come just like that if they kept going a little longer.

But he didn’t keep her there long enough. Dropping her down to her feet, he gripped her by the hips and spun her back around so she faced away from him. Then he placed one hand on her back and bent her over.

Oh god, yes. Disrespect me. Take me. Fuck me hard.

What the hell? Where did that thought come from?

Yanking down her yoga pants and panties, he licked his fingers and ran them up between her legs. But there was no need for him to get her wet. She was already drenched.

“You want this?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“God, yes,” she breathed, bracing her hands on the small counter in front of her, and glancing at him over her shoulder. “Please.”

Unzipping his jeans, he took his cock in his hand, gave it a couple of sexy tugs, then notched it at her center.

They both moaned as he slowly eased inside.

Even though they’d just had sex last night, the stretch was once again unbelievable.

Groaning, she dropped her head between her arms, her hair hanging down around her face like a veil as he claimed her inch by inch.

“I want to hear it again,” he growled, the moment he was fully inside her.

“What?”

“How badly you want it. Because we shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t … I can’t stop.”

“I want it … I want you so bad, Dom. Please.”

He growled when she said that last word.

So she did it again. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me hard.”

His fingers dug into her hips as he picked up speed. He fit her perfectly, and she’d never felt so full.

“Oh god,” she whimpered.

“No god here,” he gritted out. “Just us.”

Okay, that was hot.

“Just us,” she echoed.

“Can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Dom …” Bracing herself with one hand on the counter, she reached down between her legs to where they were joined. She rubbed her clit a few times, but was more interested in feeling him and how he disappeared into her with each rough thrust.

His cock was wet and hard as he plunged into her sopping pussy, over and over again. Each time harder. Even though it wasn’t possible, it felt like each time it was deeper too.

She’d never been so turned on in her life.

She never wanted to it to stop. And yet, she’d never craved an orgasm more.

Releasing her hip with one hand, he grabbed her arm, pulling her fingers out from between her legs, and pinning her hand at her back. His harsh pounding never ceased, which meant the remaining arm that kept her up began to tremble under her weight and his force.

The orgasm deep in her belly brewed and frothed like a whirlpool of desire, gaining momentum, growing in size and strength. Her pussy quivered around him as he split her open, driving harder, faster, and deeper than ever. Everything that wasn’t touching him throbbed with the need to. Her breasts ached as they gently swayed and hung beneath her. Her nipples were tender and tight against her bra, and her clit had probably doubled in size and pulsed with a heartbeat of its own.

She became vaguely aware of a warm trickle making its way down the inside of her thigh.

He hadn’t even come yet, so that was all her. That was her arousal. Her unbridled desire for him overflowing from her body.

With his one hand holding her wrist pinned to her lower back, he reached forward and grabbed her by the hair with his other hand, hauling her head backward just enough to put a mild strain on her neck, but not so much it was painful or she’d need to visit the chiropractor.

His grip on her scalp was harsh. Possessive. Electric.

But his rhythm was beginning to falter. Though still hard, it wasn’t as steady or deliberate. Was he struggling to hang on as much as she was? Because she could tip over the cliffside at any point. All he needed to do was tell her to come and she’d go off like a cannon with a half-inch fuse.

“God, you take my cock so well,” he growled. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No … we shouldn’t.”

But that just made it so much hotter. The forbidden aspect of it. The fact that he was her boss, this was their place of work, and unlike last night, it was the morning and the place was not empty.

They could be interrupted at any point.

And that just made it all the hotter.

This was so unlike her.

She wasn’t a risk taker. She wasn’t an exhibitionist. The kinkiest place she’d ever had sex—before last night—was a tent in a state park campground. And even then, she’d been as quiet as the dead.

Right now, neither of them were quiet.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “I’m going to—”

“Me too.”

“God. Come for me, Chloe. Come all over my cock.”

That was the demand she craved. The permission she needed. The spark reached the end of her fuse, and she went off like cannon full of way too much gunpowder. Every cell in her body woke up, vibrating from the pleasure that spun out of her center in gorgeous ribbons, wrapping around her muscles, her bones, and into every limb until she shook with an unfettered bliss.

“Good girl,” he crooned, low and primal behind her. His grip on her hair and wrist tightened to just the slightest point of pain. He grunted, stilled, and let go. A long, low, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck , ” fled his lips as he poured himself inside of her, the steady pulsing of his cock just pushing her orgasm longer until her arm threatened to give out beneath her.

But she held on.

For dear life.

She couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—she’d come without clitoral stimulation, and yet, she hadn’t needed any with Dom just now. His dominance, his unabandoned need for her—not to mention that grip on her hair and wrist, and his relentless pounding—it was all more than enough to pitch her over the edge.

When he exhaled long and slow, to indicate the final moments of his release, she gave him one last squeeze inside of her, and he released her hair and wrist.

She made a noise of protest that shocked her, when he pulled free of her body, and his chuckle just made her nipples pebble all over again.

The zip of his jeans echoed like a monastery gong in the room, and she quickly yanked up her underwear and yoga pants before spinning around. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get you a warm, wet paper towel this time,” he said with regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I only live like twenty feet away. I can just run home.”

“Right,” he breathed, raking his fingers through his shoulder-length hair. “The cabin.”

“The cabin.”

Their gazes locked.

They’d just done exactly what she didn’t want to have happen again.

Bullshit. That’s all you’ve wanted to do since you met the man, pretty much.

“We … we can’t do that again,” she said.

He nodded. “Right.”

“You’re my boss.”

“I am.”

She was out of breath. “But … just so we’re clear, there was no coercion or manipulation. No abuse of power. I’m not going,” she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart hammer beneath her palm, “to file a sexual harassment complaint or anything.”

He nodded again, then the corner of his mouth ticked up playfully on one side. “I mean there was a little bit of manipulation.”

Her brows lifted.

“You manipulated me with your feminine wiles. Abused the power that your butt has in those pants.”

She burst out laughing and swatted his chest with the back of her hand. “Are we going to play that game? Because …”

He sobered quickly. “No. You’re right. We can’t do that again. It has the potential to get very messy.”

With a curt head bob, she let her gaze settle on the doorknob. “So long as we’re in agreement.”

“We are. Totally.”

“Excellent.”

He turned the doorknob. “Fantastic.”

Her gaze met his. “Superb.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” His nostrils flared and flames flickered behind his eyes.

“Same page, same chapter, same sentence,” she added.

He released the knob. “One more time to get it out of our systems?”

“Absolutely.”

Then he attacked her mouth once more.