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lips.
                  Mia grabbed her purse from the tufted chair and turned on her heel to walk out, but Benson had already intercepted her, coolly sliding in front of her. He raised an eyebrow and glared down at her.
                  “You aren’t getting away that easily, Mia.”
                  “You’re wasting time here,” She struggled. “You’ve got a meeting to attend.”
                  “I’ll get there quicker if you cooperate. I’m not waiting two weeks to see you again, Mia.”
                  “I don’t think you have a choice.”
                  Benson chuckled, “Don’t make this difficult, precious.”
                  “I told you I don’t mix business and pleasure. It’s too messy.”
                  “Is that what happened with Grant?” Benson pressed.
                  Mia bit her lip, not knowing whether to cry or slap him, “Please stop talking, Benson.”
                  “This already is messy, Mia,” Benson stated, and then flashed a smile. “Now let me see you tonight so I can make you come more.”
                  “I’m busy tonight.”
                  “Tomorrow.”
                  “I’m going out tomorrow night.”
                  “With who?” He flared, possessive.
                  Mia gritted out, “A friend. Lora.”
                  “What about Saturday?” Benson was relentless.
                  “Burnside is playing a gig Saturday, sorry,” She offered.
                  “Damn it, Mia!” Benson’s hands balled into a fist and she flinched, trying not to make her reaction too noticeable. “I’m not going to stop until I have you.”
                  He bent down and kissed her. Instead of the rough exchanges they were accustomed to, the kiss was warm and soft. Mia was surprised at the tenderness that seeped through his lips, through his hands that were now gingerly on her shoulders. Benson surprised himself with the action, as well.
                  “Saturday night. 8 pm at Pluto Lounge on Houston Street. Burnside is playing, but I won’t be working, just there for support. You can find me there.”
                  Benson slid back into his cocky smile, flashing a mouth of perfect teeth at her. Mia rolled her eyes and reached behind her to open the door, letting it click and fling open so they couldn’t hide, so he couldn’t get any more intimate.
                  “Don’t come in a Prada suit,” She teased, her eyes dancing and a smile on her face.
                  Benson followed her into the hallway, playfully admitting, “I own more than suits, Mia.”
                  “What a shame. You look good in suits.”
                  They reached the end of the short hall, and the room opened up. Benson could see a small group of men looking at them through the glass of the conference room and Thomas, with his curious eyes, trying hard to deny himself the pleasure of watching the two. Benson wasn’t sure if it was obvious he’d driven the woman to the brink of madness and then nursed her back to health from the comfort of his office, but he was sure it was visible that something had changed between the two.
                  Mia gave a confident smile at Thomas, making his eyes dart back to his computer. Benson stifled his laugh as he followed her through the glass doors that led to the area that housed the elevator. She called the cab and turned to rest her back on the cool wall, hoping it would calm the fire that still lingered inside her. She could try all she wanted, but Benson Ward was pumping through her bloodstream.
                  Despite being in the open, away from the comfort of his office, Benson pulled her in for another