Page 136 of Trust Me

She rolls her eyes. “You’re insane.”

I narrow my eyes on her. “What the hell did Barry say to you?”

“I told you already.”

She throws her hands in the air when I don’t say anything. “You don’t believe me?” she shrieks. “Do you think he was trying to mount me in the middle of a meeting with nine other people in the room?”

Why not? I would.

Obviously, I don’t say that thought out loud.

“He was too fucking close,” I growl.

“He didn’t want to disturb anyone else with his question. Unbelievable,” she mumbles with a shake of her head.

“Didn’t you two go out for lunch yesterday?”

“Are you kidding me? What? Are you having me followed or something?”

It’s my turn to suck my teeth. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I had Michael call Charlotte to try to schedule a lunch with you and she told him where you were. Why did you go to lunch with him?”

She places her hand on her hip. That draws my attention to the way the skirt she’s wearing hugs those damn hips of hers. The same ones I love gripping when I’m thrusting deep inside of her. The ones I know, at this very moment, are marked by my handprints from the bruising I left behind.

I can be demanding as fuck in bed, and Riley takes it—all of me—so fucking well.

Just thinking about it starts to make my cock swell in my pants. The thought of Barry or any other motherfucker getting close to her is driving me crazy.

“Stay away from him,” I demand.

“I’m not a fucking dog you can order around.”

“You’re my damn wife.”

“Which you made abundantly clear to everyone in that room. By the end of business today, everyone in this company will know we’re married.” She says it like it’s a terrible thing.

“What the fuck is the problem with that?”

She rolls her eyes skyward. “Nothing, except the fact that this marriage isn’t real, remember?”

Something in my chest twists at that reminder. “It’s real on paper,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “That’s as real as it gets.”

Her shoulders slump slightly.

“A piece of paper won’t stop me from talking to whomever I want. Whenever.”

“Don’t test me, Riley.”

“I’m simply telling you the truth.” The phony smile on her face grates on my damn nerves.

I approach her, backing her up until the back of her legs are pressed against my desk. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined fucking you in my office?”

The way her teeth sink into her bottom lip is telling.

I trace those lips with my thumb. “I’ve wanted to know what this color looks like around my dick. These fucking lips drive me crazy.”

“How crazy?” Her eyes drop to my mouth.

“Crazy enough to make this entire floor hear you shouting my name.”