“Rowan,” I gasped, falling back on my hands, granting enough space between us for him to do whatever he wanted, because I was helpless to stop this from happening. I didn’t want to stop it.
“God, I need to fuck you,” he groaned as one of his hands left my hip, running up the inside of my thigh to my center.
This was it. Holy shit, this was really about to happen.
I’d just about accepted the fact that Rowan and I were going to have sex in the ladies room of a club when a sudden pounding on the locked door pulled me back down to earth, instantly snuffing out the passion in the room like a bucket of water being dumped on a camp fire.
“Hey!” a loud voice yelled. “Unlock the damn door! I gotta pee!”
“Oh, shit,” I gasped, sliding back from Rowan and covering my mouth with both hands. “Ohshitohshitohshit!”
“Navie, just calm down,” Rowan spoke, obviously grasping that I was about to have an epic freak-out. “Don’t run from me again. I’m getting fucking tired of chasing after you tonight.”
“Then stop!” I shrieked, decidedly un-calm. When I put my hands to his chest and shoved that time, he moved back several inches. “We can’t do this, Rowan,” I spoke as firmly as my quivering voice would allow. “I can’t do this. Tonight was a huge mistake, and it’s never happening again.”
“Don’t count on that,” he warned, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he made a move for me again.
Just as the woman with the tiny bladder started pounding on the door again, I hopped off the sink as quickly as possible and sidestepped Rowan.
“I’m serious,” I told him as I began backing toward the locked door. “Whatever… this… was, it’s done,” I said, waving my hand in the growing space between us. “I mean it.”
“You have two seconds to unlock this door or I’m getting security!” the woman yelled.
Rowan running a frustrated hand through his jet black hair did little to detract from his staggering good looks as he took one step toward me, then another, and another, until I could feel his breath whisper across my cheek. I stood, frozen by the fierce expression on his face, an expression I couldn’t possibly get a read on. “I finally got a taste of something I wanted, and there’s no fucking way I’m stopping with just that.”
“Rowan,” I whispered, hoping and praying he could read the earnestness in my eyes. “You’re my boss. You don’t do relationships. And I don’t do random bathroom hook-ups. You need to forget this ever happened, because I sure as hell am.”
I didn’t let him get another word in before I spun around, flipped the lock on the door and hauled ass out of the bathroom, muttering a half-hearted apology to the woman on the other side as I brushed past.
“Hey!” Harlow said excitedly as I stumbled up to where she and Pepper were still dancing. The bright smile on her face quickly disappeared as she took in my disheveled appearance. “You okay? You disappeared on us for a bit.”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I think I just drank a too much. I’m feeling a little sick. I’m gonna go ahead and catch a cab home.”
“Hold on,” Pepper started. “We’ll come with you.”
I waved off the offer as casually as possible, hoping Harlow didn’t see through the facade. “No, it’s fine. You guys stay, have fun. I’m just going to crash anyway. Don’t let VIP access go to waste.”
“You sure?” Harlow asked, the look on her face just as skeptical as the one on Pepper’s. “Did something happen?”
“Other than puking my guts out in the ladies room?” I laughed awkwardly. “Not much. Seriously, you guys stay here. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
“Okay, sweetie.” Harlow leaned in and squeezed me tightly before moving back to give Pepper her turn. “But you text or call us if you need anything. Got it?”
“Promise.” I gave my friends a small smile before taking the stairs to the VIP area as quickly as my heels would allow. I offered Griffin a pathetic goodbye, refusing to spare a single glance in Rowan’s direction, and then I burned out of the Neon Room like my ass was on fire.
Where was she?
I paced the length of my entryway over and over, checking my watch for the fifteenth time in the past ten minutes. Navie was late. She was never late. Hell, if anything the girl was so prompt she typically started her work day early.
Bringing my cellphone to my ear, I hit re-dial for her number, a-fucking-gain. And just like the past three times, it went to voicemail after only two rings.
“Son of a bitch!”
I couldn’t believe it. She was blowing me off! I’d never been blown off before. And the fact that she hadn’t even bothered to show up to work without so much as a heads up really pissed me off. Despite everything that happened at the Neon Room three days ago, she still had a damned job to do.
Scrolling through my phone for the number I was looking for, I hit call.
“Rowan? What are you doing up at eight forty-five in the morning? Shouldn’t you be busy pushing your latest booty-call out the door?”
It was moments like this when I questioned why I hadn’t fired Lauren yet. Ignoring her dig, I pushed forward. “Where is she?”
“What? Who?”
It was too fucking early, I hadn’t had enough caffeine, and I was in serious need of getting laid. To say I had a low tolerance for my publicist’s bullshit was an understatement. “Don’t mess with me, Lauren, not today. Where the hell is Navie? She hasn’t shown up for work and her phone’s going to voicemail.”
“Jesus, Rowan,” Lauren huffed through the line. “Don’t you ever check your email?”
“Of course I don’t check my own email. I have a goddamned personal assistant for that! Why would I check my own email?”
Ignoring my attitude, she responded. “She sent a message that she’s sick and is going to be out today and tomorrow.”
Stomping back into my office, I pulled up my Outlook, and sure enough, there it was. Flu-like symptoms, my ass. She wasn’t sick, she was avoiding me. And that brought forth an entire slew of emotions I didn’t want to think about.
“What’s her address?”
“Oh, hell no,” Lauren spoke. “The poor girl’s sick. The last thing she needs is you giving her shit for missing a few days of work. That’s what paid time off is designated for, Rowan. Leave her alone.”
I was fuming. “For the love of… just give me her damn address, Lauren. I want to go check on her. Make sure she’s all right.”
“You want to…” she trailed off, her voice full of disbelief. “For God’s sake, Rowan! Please tell me you haven’t had sex with that girl!”
“Of course not!” I shot back, keeping it to myself that I had every intention of doing just that. Hooking up with another one of my assistants would go over about as well as a lead balloon as far as she was concerned.
“If you’re lying to me, so help me God—”
“I’m not lying!” Yet. “Just give me the address.”
By the time I got off the phone, I had a raging headache, but at least I had the address to Navie’s apartment in Murray Hill.
Time to pay her a surprise visit.
I’d been ignoring my phone all morning long. And by ignoring, I meant sending every single one of Rowan’s calls to voicemail. And to my shock, there had been tons of them. It had become apparent that the surly man was most definitely not accustomed to being ignored. After what happened at the Neon Room, I’d decided I needed a break from all things Rowan and took two days off work to get my mind straight. I needed to mentally prepare myself to see him again, and the only thing that helped clear my mind and calm me down was making jewelry. When I’d woken up, I dove right in to a set I’d been picturing in my head for weeks. Unfortunately, even my jewelry wasn’t doing much to help. I’d screwed the necklace up three times already—each time was after rejecting another call from Rowan. My hands just wouldn’t work the way I needed them to, my fingers nowhere near as nimble as I needed them to be.