Dangerous Office Romance With My Husband

Breanne kicked off her black stilettos in the dimly lit foyer of the penthouse. The shoes hit the baseboard with a dull thud.

She dragged her stocking-clad feet across the cold hardwood floor. The absolute silence of the empty apartment pressed against her eardrums. It was a heavy, expensive kind of quiet.

Her fingers fumbled with the small pearl buttons of her silk blouse. She pulled the fabric apart and let it drop onto the back of the velvet living room sofa. She didn't care about the wrinkles.

Walking into the master bathroom, she reached into the glass enclosure and turned the shower handle all the way to hot. Steam immediately began to rise, fogging the mirrors.

She stepped under the spray. The scalding water hit her tight shoulders, turning her pale skin a mottled pink.

She leaned her forehead against the wet tile. She closed her eyes, trying to wash away the endless spreadsheets and the suffocating pressure of the Golden Peak project.

When she finally stepped out, she wrapped a thick, fluffy white towel around her body. The chilled air of the master bedroom hit her wet skin, making the fine hairs on her arms stand up.

She walked over to her side of the massive king-sized bed and pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand.

Her fingers brushed past a stack of unread architectural magazines. She reached toward the very back of the drawer.

She pulled out a small, sleek, rose-gold vibrator.

Her cheeks flushed a sudden, hot red. The room was completely empty, but the weight of what she was about to do made her stomach tighten.

With the toy in hand, she climbed into the exact center of the mattress. She pulled the heavy, high-thread-count duvet up over her bare legs, creating a small, private cocoon.

Her thumb found the power button. She pressed it.

A low, quiet hum filled the silent space. The vibration sent a sharp jolt of anticipation straight to her core. Her breathing hitched.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the stacked pillows. A soft, involuntary sigh escaped her parted lips.

Then, the electronic lock on the front door chimed.

The sound was sharp and loud, echoing down the long hallway.

Breanne's eyes snapped open. Ice water flooded her veins. Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it physically hurt.

The device slipped from her trembling fingers. It fell somewhere between her thighs.

She scrambled to grab it, her hands blindly searching the sheets. The heavy duvet tangled around her ankles, trapping her legs.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor. They were moving fast. They were heading directly toward the master suite.

Her fingers finally closed around the smooth metal. She fumbled frantically for the power button.

Her hands were still slick from the shower lotion. Her thumb slipped.

Instead of turning it off, she accidentally pressed the intensity button. The vibration instantly cranked up to the maximum setting.

The low hum turned into an angry, undeniable buzzing sound.

The bedroom door swung open.

Gabriel Baldwin stood in the doorway.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His dark eyes immediately swept over the messy bed, the tangled white sheets, and Breanne's violently flushed face.

The loud buzzing sound echoed in the sudden, deathly silence of the room. It was deafening.

Gabriel did not blink. He slowly reached behind him and pushed the door closed.

The click of the latch sounded exactly like a gunshot.

He dropped his leather overnight bag onto the floor. It hit the carpet with a heavy thud. He never broke eye contact with her.

Breanne's wet fingers finally found the right button. The buzzing died instantly.

She shoved the toy under the nearest pillow, a mortified gasp tearing out of her throat. Her chest heaved up and down.

Gabriel reached up and loosened his silk tie. He pulled it slowly through his collar. A dangerous, mocking smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He took a slow step toward the bed.

He moved with a predatory grace that made Breanne's stomach drop. She instinctively shrank back against the headboard, pulling the duvet up to her chin.

She opened her mouth to yell at him. She wanted to demand why he was back from Chicago two days early.

No sound came out. Her throat was completely dry.

He stopped at the edge of the mattress. He looked down at her trembling form. His expression was a mask of cold, dark amusement.

He reached out. His large hand effortlessly bypassed her defensive grip on the blankets.

He slid his hand under the pillow and pulled the rose-gold toy out into the open.

He held it in his broad palm, examining the sleek design. He raised a single, thick eyebrow at her.

He tossed the toy onto the nightstand. The metal clattered loudly against the wood. Breanne flinched.

Gabriel leaned down. He planted both of his hands firmly on the mattress, right on either side of her hips.

The mattress dipped under his weight. He trapped her completely.

Breanne reacted on pure instinct. She shoved both of her hands hard against Gabriel's solid chest.

She tried to push him away, to put any kind of distance between his expensive suit and her bare skin.

Gabriel did not move an inch. His chest felt like a concrete wall beneath his dress shirt. He absorbed her push effortlessly.

His smirk deepened, carving sharp lines into his jaw.

He leaned closer. His face was inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Why do you need a battery-operated toy, Breanne?" His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear. "You have a husband."

Breanne glared up at him. Her heart was beating so fast it made her dizzy.

"The toy is a lot more attentive than an arrogant jerk," she snapped, her voice shaking with adrenaline.

Gabriel's dark eyes turned pitch black. The mocking amusement vanished from his face in a split second.

He moved faster than she could track. He grabbed both of her wrists with one large hand.

He yanked her arms upward, pinning her wrists flat against the wooden headboard above her head. His grip was an iron vice.

Breanne thrashes her legs, trying to kick his shins. The heavy duvet wrapped around her knees, working against her.

Gabriel shifted his weight. He drove his knee right between her thighs, pressing down hard enough to completely immobilize her lower body.

He used his free hand to grip her jaw. His long fingers dug into her cheeks.

He forced her to look directly into his furious, burning eyes.

"I am about to show you exactly how attentive I can be," he whispered. His voice was low, rough, and dangerous.

Breanne gasped.

He crushed his mouth against hers. It was not a kiss. It was a punishing, demanding assault.

She kept her teeth tightly clamped together. She refused to yield to him. She refused to let him win.

Gabriel's fingers tightened on her jaw. He bit down hard on her lower lip.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat at the sudden sting.

He took immediate advantage. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting of black coffee and mint. He claimed every inch of her, leaving no room for her to breathe.

Breanne's resistance began to shatter. The familiar scent of cedar and expensive cologne filled her nose. Her body recognized him, betraying her mind.

Gabriel released her wrists. His hands slid down her arms, gripping her waist tightly through the thick towel.

He yanked the fabric violently. The towel tore open, exposing her flushed, damp skin to the cool air of the bedroom.

Breanne shivered. A traitorous, pathetic moan escaped her lips as his rough, calloused hands mapped the curve of her hips.

Gabriel pulled back just enough to shed his suit jacket. He unbuckled his leather belt with practiced, urgent efficiency. The metal buckle clinked loudly.

He pushed her flat against the pillows. His heavy body covered hers completely, crushing the breath out of her lungs.

The argument dissolved. It turned into a frantic, friction-filled exchange of biting, scratching, and desperate gasps.

Breanne dug her nails deep into his broad shoulders. She hated him for his arrogance. She hated herself more for how much her body craved his weight.

Gabriel set a relentless, punishing pace. He moved with a brutal rhythm, determined to erase the memory of the toy from her mind entirely.

The heavy wooden headboard banged rhythmically against the drywall. The sound echoed the violent intensity of their collision.

Breanne turned her head and bit hard into his shoulder. She tasted salt and sweat. She needed to muffle her own screams as the sensory overload pushed her to the edge.

Gabriel groaned her name. His voice was harsh and broken. His grip on her hips bruised her skin as they both reached a shattering, breathless peak.

Absolute silence crashed down over the room. The only sound was their heavy, ragged breathing.

Gabriel rolled off her. He lay flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. His chest he heave with every breath.

Breanne curled into a tight ball on the far edge of the mattress. She pulled the torn, wrinkled duvet over her bare shoulders.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. Furious, hot tears of frustration pricked the corners of her eyes.

Her body had betrayed her again.

Gabriel sat up slowly. The muscles in his broad back flexed and shifted in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

He reached over the edge of the bed. He grabbed his discarded dress pants from the floor.

He pulled a sleek silver lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket.

Without looking at her, he stood up. He walked completely naked toward the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony.

Breanne watched his back. A toxic mixture of intense resentment and lingering, heavy desire swirled in her chest. Her skin still hummed from his touch.

Gabriel unlocked the glass door and slid it open.

A rush of freezing New York night air blasted into the stifling, sweat-scented bedroom.

He stepped out onto the concrete balcony. The sharp flare of the lighter briefly illuminated his strong jawline and straight nose.

Breanne sat up abruptly. She pulled the duvet tightly around her chest, shivering as the cold air hit her heated skin.

She glared at his dark silhouette against the glowing city skyline. She hated how effortlessly cool he always looked, even after losing control.

Gabriel took a long, deep drag. He tilted his head back and blew a thick plume of gray smoke into the dark sky. He completely ignored the fact that she was sitting ten feet away.

Breanne muttered a harsh curse under her breath.

She threw the duvet off her legs. She stormed across the cold floor, heading straight for the master bathroom. She needed to scrub his scent off her skin.

She slammed her hand against the light switch. The harsh, bright glare of the vanity bulbs made her wince.

She looked in the mirror. Bright red marks bloomed across her neck and collarbone.

She turned on the cold water faucet. She cupped her hands and splashed the freezing water directly onto her flushed face. The shock helped slow her racing heart.

The heavy sound of the sliding glass door closing echoed from the bedroom. He was back inside.

Breanne grabbed a hand towel. She scrubbed her face aggressively, determined not to make eye contact with him when he walked in.

Gabriel stepped into the bathroom.

He brought the outside in with him. He smelled strongly of freezing air, bitter tobacco, and the heavy musk of sex.

He stopped right behind her. His tall frame blocked the doorway. Their eyes met instantly in the large vanity mirror.

Breanne gripped the edge of the marble sink. Her knuckles turned stark white.

"Get out," she said. Her voice was hoarse. "Let me shower in peace."

Gabriel ignored her. He took a slow step forward. His bare chest brushed against her naked back.

He reached his long arm around her waist. He grabbed the faucet handle and shoved it down, cutting off the rushing water.

He lowered his head. He pressed his freezing cold nose directly against the sensitive, heated skin of her neck, right over a fresh red mark.

Breanne shivered violently. Her breath caught sharply in her throat. The temperature drop against her skin was a physical shock.

Gabriel's large hands slid down her stomach. He gripped her bare hips and pulled her backward, pressing her flush against his hardening body.

"You're far too tense, Breanne," he whispered directly into her ear. His voice was a dark rumble. "You need to relax properly."

Breanne swung her elbow backward, aiming for his ribs.

Gabriel caught her arm effortlessly. He pinned her wrist firmly against her own side.

He bent his knees slightly, gripped her waist, and lifted her completely off her feet.

He set her down heavily onto the edge of the vanity counter.

Breanne gasped loudly. The solid marble was freezing cold against her bare thighs. The shock sent a jolt straight up her spine.

Gabriel stepped squarely between her parted legs. His dark eyes burned with a renewed, insatiable hunger.

He kissed her again.

This time, it wasn't a punishment. It was slow, deep, and agonizingly thorough. His mouth tasted heavily of bitter tobacco and mint.

Breanne's hands involuntarily came up. Her fingers tangled deep into his thick, dark hair. She hated herself, but she was entirely unable to stop pulling him closer.

The bathroom quickly filled with hot steam from their bodies. The sharp, echoed sounds of their second, desperate round bounced off the tile walls.