Page 118 of Hate to Love You
Trevor gulps, putting his panini down before rolling down the window, a stifling tension filling the car as Cal starts muttering about how Mr. Antonov is growing impatient, and something about how heads are going to roll.
Balling up my trash, I lean forward, patting Trevor on the shoulder.
“Thank you for being such a great driver, and making sure I had sustenance before my workday,” I say with a smile. “As I’m sure Mr. Antonov would want his assistant to be ready for her day, with plenty of energy, right?”
I glare at Cal as I open the car door, slamming it behind me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Jacques, taking a last gulp from his coffee cup, before grimacing and throwing the cup on the ground.
With a smile, I walk into the Nikotech lobby. As I do, I can feel all eyes on me, their intrusive stares making me feel as if bugs are running all over my skin.
A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps erupt on my arms as I step into the elevator.
This skirt is going to get a reaction from Roman.
…And I’m excited for it.
With a ding, the doors open to the executive floor.
My giddiness is immediately halted when I come face to face with the only bitch in this office, I can’t stand more than Alison and Jenny: that insufferable cunt from Accounting, Heather.
Her eyes scan my body, silently judging me, before locking on mine. But I simply step onto the floor with my head held high, carrying the box with my new phone.
Heather opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, Roman’s voice echoes through the floor.
“Abigail! Office! Now!” He thunders.
“Gotta go,” I say, with a wave.
Dropping my bag on my desk, I walk into Roman’s office, shutting the door behind me.
He stares at me, his chest heaving as his eyes caress my thighs, stopping briefly on my suspenders, before continuing up to my chest, where my blouse barely contains my cleavage.
With a growl he pushes away from his desk, looking over the top of his glasses as he hits the privacy glass, cutting the two of us off from the people outside.
“What are you wearing, Abigail,” he states, not really wanting me to reply.
“Clothes.” I huff back.
A laugh escapes him, coated in darkness as he continues to devour me with his eyes.
“That’s not clothes, Abigail,” he gestures forward, before running his thumb over his lip. “You know, if you wanted a repeat of yesterday, you could’ve just asked.”
His smirk is arrogant, and it instantly infuriates me.
“As I said in my text last night, Mr. Antonov,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him, while trying not to inhale his intoxicating scent. “It was a one time thing, and it cannot happen again. It will not.”
“And as I said last night, Foxy,” he whispers, stepping forward, closing the small distance between us. “You can keep telling yourself that.”
“I mean it, Roman, it isn’t happening again.”
He takes another step, causing me to back up into the wall. Pressing his hand against the wall behind me he pins me there, and I can hear his ragged breathing. He licks his bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he reaches forward and gently caresses my neck.
“Why?” He growls, his voice low.
The moment his warm skin touches mine, electricity ripples through me, and my breath catches in my throat, threatening my resolve.
“Because I said no, Roman,” I whisper, hating how breathless I sound as I fight every traitorous impulse to kiss him. “Or does the word ‘no’ mean nothing to you?”