I want to twirl them around my fingers. Want to feel their softness against my knuckles, and gently tug.

Want to guide her pretty mouth down my body.

“You know my extension,” Kara tells the room, and then we’re gone, striding through the corridor toward the elevator. I’m too impatient, making her hurry to keep up, so I shorten my steps to keep her from running in her heels.

But I’m eager for our shared office; our olive trees and skylights. The vanilla scent of the candle she keeps on her desk.

I want to get my assistant alone.

It’s a drumbeat in my chest. A sharp need, slicing through me, eviscerating my restraint. Fuck. I hold out until we round the first corner, both safely out of view, then I grip Kara’s wrist and tug her closer; I seal our bodies together and press my assistant against the wall.

And I can’t explain what I’m doing. My brain is silent, running on pure instinct.

When I touch her, I feel such relief.

I’ve done this so many times to Kara in my dreams, touched her so many different ways in my brain, that I guess my body thinks it’s normal. Because I’m touching her, gripping her, cruising on autopilot. Feeling the sweet perfection of those curves against my hard lines.

“Galen,” Kara gasps, blinking up at me, her eyes wide. She tugs on my arms, pulling me closer.

But god, I’m crushing her—pressing up against her like a goddamn caveman. My trance shatters as quickly as it came.

I stumble back, horrified. Where did that come from? What is wrong with me?

It’s not bad enough that I practically bite my fist every time Kara walks into a room—now I’m pawing at her in the halls?

No. No, Kara deserves better than this.

I’m too old for her. Too bitter.

I’ve got no fucking right.

“Actually, I have a meeting.” My voice sounds tinny, but at least the words make sense. I stride the last few feet to the elevator doors, my assistant following slowly behind me. I jab the button for her and then step away.

I need space. Need to clear my head, and to get myself together away from Kara before I do something we’ll both regret.

Can’t believe I touched her like that. Can’t believe I felt her fucking heartbeat through my clothes.

My assistant. I’m such an ass.

“Across the city,” I lie. “It’s not in the calendar.”

Delicate eyebrows pinch together. Kara’s still thrown off by what just happened, but her gears are turning and she’s catching up. “Oh. That’s weird. Why…?”

“Because it’s personal,” I snap, then my insides plummet as Kara jerks back, startled that I’ve lashed out. Who can blame her? First I crush myself against her, then I bark.

Hurt fills her pretty brown eyes, and this is no better than her blushes and confusion a few seconds ago. Not at all.

“I won’t be long,” I say, but she’s not looking at me anymore. Kara has turned away, pressing the elevator button again like that’ll make it come sooner. Her mouth is pinched, and she’s smoothing down her freshly-crumpled clothes.