His silhouette is unmistakable, just like his touch is unforgettable.
I can feel him as he watches me cross the street and walk to the front entrance. His eyes are on me the entire time, every step of the way.
“Kira, I got to go. I'll text you later.” Hanging up the phone, I run my hands down the front of my dress and take a big breath.
It's fine. We'll be professional. This is work.
I've been doing my best to give Lyle space, to let him get control of the stuff here, and not overwhelm him with any baby talk. We'll get there, he just needs a couple weeks, and then things will settle down.
At least that's what Sandy promised. She said it's busy season, and Lyle will be all mine very soon. But until then, his head needs to be on business, not on me.
And she threatened your career, so there's that too. . .
Pushing away any nerves I feel, I walk into the room like I own it myself. The clients I've been working with are all happy, drinking and laughing. And I laugh with them, doing my best to not seem distracted by Lyle and this pregnancy.
I want them all to think that they're on the top of my list, that their projects are all I think about. It's how I make them feel special, something I don't think this company is very good at.
I bet it's been the issue all along. That's the reason most of their clients are one and done.
I catch Lyle out of the corner of my eye, he's still watching me. Nothing's changed at all with him. His eyes fuck me where I stand, and my body ignites, getting wet when I don't want it to.
My client James cracks a joke, so I pretend to find it funny, doing what I can to ignore Lyle completely.
But it's hard to ignore a man that looks so good. Wearing a jet black suit that looks like it was made for his body. It captures every essence that makes him a man. The way it holds his muscles, trapping them like a rogue shark in a net. They bulge and throb, thickening with every movement, threatening to split the threads.
Lyle is power.
He is dominance.
He is perfection.
The skin on his face is smooth, there's no hint of a five o'clock shadow. There's a sheen of aftershave glistening as the lights hit his flesh. My thighs clench, ready and eager to feel just how smooth his face is.
His eyes are crisp, clear, and vivid. Staring directly into my soul as he smiles and taps his glass against another gentleman’s I've seen around the office. His smile isn't directed at the man, it's directed at me.
Stalking across the room, he starts to move in my direction. He walks with strength, his legs long and firm. The people in the room split as he moves through, giving him clear passage as if they don't have the right to stand in front of him.
It's intimidating and incredible to watch. You can actually feel the energy.
He stops in front of me, his eyes licking up and down my body. “You look amazing, Dalia,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes gleam.
“Thanks,” I say, bashfully looking away. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
“I'm going to take that as a compliment.” He tips his glass in my direction and throws back the rest of his drink. Hissing as the scotch burns the back of his throat, he sets his glass down on a passing waiter's tray and snatches up a flute of champagne. “It's a night for celebrating.”
“That's why we're all here, right? For you and Sandy to celebrate?” Holding up my glass of water, I smile. “This is a big night for you guys.”
“This isn't just for Sandy and me.” His lips crinkle as his lids lower, and he leans in really close, almost resting his lips on my ear. “This is all for you.” His cologne swirls up, and I inhale his scent, making as much room as possible for it to fill my lungs.
Holy shit he smells fucking incredible.
Pulling my face away, I force my body to let go of his cologne and inhale clean air. I need to think straight, I can't let him take over all my senses.
Flicking my eyes between his, I take a small step back. And he notices. He doesn't say anything, but I see the question on his face.
“Me? Why me?” I ask, tapping my fingers against the outside of my glass. The surface is cold, droplets of condensation slip effortlessly, chilling my hand.
I notice the coolness of the water because my skin is so damn hot. I'm on fire already and he hasn't even tried to touch me yet.
“Because you deserve to be recognized.” Lyle looks out into the room, fanning his arm from wall to wall. “All of this is for you, it's to celebrate you, and everything you bring to this place.”
Shaking my head, I swallow hard, and rest my hand against my throat. The lump in my throat goes down slow, making my jaw push out to give it more room. “No,” I say with a hiccup of air. “I didn't do anything. I just did my job, that's what you guys hired me for.”
His eyes follow the muscles of my neck as I swallow, moving over my chest and back to my face. I catch the little twinkle as it bursts in his eye, and I know exactly where his head is going.
Biting down on his bottom lip, he smirks. He's been caught, and he likes it. He drops his eyes, and licks his lips.
“And you did your job beautifully.” Lyle's eyes penetrate me. “It's almost like you were meant to be here, like we were meant to find each other again.”
An intense burning strikes me down, and as I look just over Lyle's shoulder, I see Sandy giving me the Devil's stare.
Too close. We're too
