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My groan thankfully gets stuck in my throat. “And what do you stand to get out of this conversation?”
She looks at me with knitted brows. “Are you always this cynical about people’s intentions?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes roll. “Expressing gratitude isn’t exactly an exchange program.”
“I won’t take your word for it.”
She laughs as she bends over her desk, giving me a prime view of her firm backside while she scribbles something on a sticky note. Heat spreads from my chest to places that have no business being turned on at the moment.
For some god-forsaken reason, I’m suffering from some kind of physical ailment in her presence that makes me act like a sex-deprived lunatic. My fingers tap against my thigh to keep my hands to myself.
You should be keeping an eye on her motives, not her body.
There’s something not right about her. Maybe her niceness is a front for what really lies beneath the surface. I don’t believe for a second that she hasn’t thought about exploiting me because of my position after I kissed her. Anyone in her kind of financial position would.
She turns and passes me the hot pink sticky note. “Here.”
Don’t grab it. Tell her no and leave before you make a big mistake.
My hand swoops in and plucks the sticky note out of her hand before I give it a second thought.