Kimi L. Davis
Three hours. It had taken that man only three hours to find me. And here I thought I was free from him forever. I didn’t know whether to slap myself or him. Either way, Mr. Benson had found me, and he was pissed.
“Do you mind telling me why you left in such a rush, leaving no word with your employer, for Canada?” Mr. Benson asked.
We were currently sitting on the couch in Ingrid’s apartment, side by side. I had tried to sit in the armchair, but one pull on my wrist from him had me sitting next to him. Our thighs were pressed together, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“Well?” he pressed, making my already pounding heart hammer faster against my ribcage.
“Well, I do mind, so please ask me something else,” I responded, mentally slapping myself at my idiocy. Really, Hailey? What are you doing?
“Do not test my patience, Hailey, I’ve already reached the end of it. So do both of us a favor and answer the damn question.”
I visibly gulped, which caused Mr. Benson’s eyes to narrow. My heart was battling with my mind. My heart wanted to kiss Mr. Benson, but my mind said he was dangerous and it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“I… I left because…you said…you said I couldn’t resign from your company,” I mumbled, my heart now pounding faster.
“You want to know why I said you couldn’t resign?” he asked softly, his breath fanning against my face.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because of this.” And then he kissed me.
It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. His lips were soft, caressing mine like they were made just for me. They were doing things to me, making me feel things that I never felt with another man. Fire coursed through my veins, my heart fluttered in pure bliss.
Without realizing it, I clutched his shirt collar with both of my hands, holding him in place. One of his hands tangled in my hair, the other cupped my cheek. Suddenly, I was tilting backward and I realized that Mr. Benson was pushing me down on the couch, his body splayed on top of me.
I kissed him back with ardor. In that moment, I didn’t care about anyone or anything. My mind tried to intervene, telling me that this was wrong, that kissing him was wrong, but I shut it up. Because right then and there, it felt right. Having his arms wrapped around me felt right. Being underneath him felt right. Kissing him felt right.
Eventually, we broke apart, our breaths heavy and ragged. My cheeks were flushed and my veins buzzed with liquid fire.
For the first time since I met him, Mr. Benson had lost his cool, collected demeanor. His breathing was labored, like he ran a marathon. His once straight shirt collar was now wrinkled thanks to my hands, but he didn’t seem to mind.
He locked eyes with me for a few seconds before leaning down and nuzzling my neck, causing me to arch up and shiver as goosebumps broke across my skin.
“Oh, Hailey,” he whispered against my neck, “the things I want to do to you.” He placed butterfly kisses on my neck, causing an involuntary moan to escape from me. Oh God, this man knows how to kiss.
“But,” he said, his lips suddenly leaving my neck as he stood and straightened his suit, “that will happen in due time.”
He retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and pressed a few buttons before bringing it to his ear. “Pick me up in five,” he barked. He cut the call and turned to look at me.
I stared back, confused as to what was going on.
“We will head back to New York tomorrow morning. Our flight leaves at 9 a.m. sharp. My car will pick you up at 6:30.” He strode over to me and bent down until his face was level with mine. “Don’t be late,” he whispered before kissing the underside of my jaw.
I was in a daze, unable to process exactly what had just happened. I nodded, which caused his lips to curve upward slightly. I realized it was the first time I’d seen him smile like that.
Satisfied with my answer, he turned and left the house.
I sighed and closed my eyes, but the kiss was all I could think about. It was the perfect first kiss. My fingers touched my lips, imagining his were still pressed against them. If his kisses felt like that, what would sex feel like?
The front door slammed shut, jolting me from my daydream. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was only Ingrid. She placed her bags on the coffee table and stood in front of me.
“What happened to you?” she asked, but it sounded more like a demand.
I sighed and closed my eyes. “Mr. Benson happened.”