“Ms. Olsen, Mr. Mannings is here to see you,” came Charlotte's shrill voice via intercom.
The lunch Mariah just had did little to keep her stomach from flip-flopping. Clark wasn't the kind of man anyone denied, even if he had no follow-up appointment in her calendar. Gulping, she hoped she didn't regret what she was about to say. “Thank you, Charlotte. You can send him in.”
Within seconds, the door to her austere cream-colored office opened. As quietly as he opened the door, Clark also closed it with a definitive click. Did he just lock her in? He sounded like a predator on the prowl, and she was the prey. How did he turn the tables like that, when this was her office, her company, her building?
Show no fear. Her mother's firm voice entered her head. No way would the daughter of Annika Alisha Olsen back down in the face of any man.
As Clark's imposing frame neared her blond wood desk, without looking up from her paperwork, Mariah asked in a dismissive manner, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” In the years she sat at this desk, this was the first time she wished she had a mahogany desk or any dark-toned desk that did not reflect the fluorescent overhead light. The light tones around her, including her white blouse, made her acutely aware of her cheeks and their potential for betrayal.
He set his briefcase down in the seat across from her, yet made no move to sit.
Glancing up from her seat of power to meet his eyes, her heart skipped a beat at his darkening gaze. The rascal. He purposefully situated himself so that she had to look up at him. In her own building. The arrogant ass. She gulped back a groan. Why did she have to think of his ass, the feel of him thrusting into her and giving her all manner of pleasure?
The lunch Mariah just had did little to keep her stomach from flip-flopping. Clark wasn't the kind of man anyone denied, even if he had no follow-up appointment in her calendar. Gulping, she hoped she didn't regret what she was about to say. “Thank you, Charlotte. You can send him in.”
Within seconds, the door to her austere cream-colored office opened. As quietly as he opened the door, Clark also closed it with a definitive click. Did he just lock her in? He sounded like a predator on the prowl, and she was the prey. How did he turn the tables like that, when this was her office, her company, her building?
Show no fear. Her mother's firm voice entered her head. No way would the daughter of Annika Alisha Olsen back down in the face of any man.
As Clark's imposing frame neared her blond wood desk, without looking up from her paperwork, Mariah asked in a dismissive manner, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” In the years she sat at this desk, this was the first time she wished she had a mahogany desk or any dark-toned desk that did not reflect the fluorescent overhead light. The light tones around her, including her white blouse, made her acutely aware of her cheeks and their potential for betrayal.
He set his briefcase down in the seat across from her, yet made no move to sit.
Glancing up from her seat of power to meet his eyes, her heart skipped a beat at his darkening gaze. The rascal. He purposefully situated himself so that she had to look up at him. In her own building. The arrogant ass. She gulped back a groan. Why did she have to think of his ass, the feel of him thrusting into her and giving her all manner of pleasure?
The above excerpt is from Purr Scent I: The Meeting, which is part of the Purr Billionaire BDSM Trio series, when the bisexual female protagonist is confronted by the alpha male protagonist.
While Purr Scent 0: The Moment kicks off the Purr Billionaire BDSM Trio series, you can find Purr Scent I: The Meeting as a complimentary read at most retail sites.
If you like stories about bisexual females, you may also enjoy Bi Girls Do It Solo.
While Purr Scent 0: The Moment kicks off the Purr Billionaire BDSM Trio series, you can find Purr Scent I: The Meeting as a complimentary read at most retail sites.
If you like stories about bisexual females, you may also enjoy Bi Girls Do It Solo.
RSS Feed