Her back stiffens.
“Now.”
I stand by my door and wave a hand toward the opening.
She shoots me a glare worthy of my own, but the only thing it provokes in me is significantly less space between my zipper and briefs.
A dart of excitement sprints down my spine as I see her debating whether or not to defy me.
She relents and walks into my office.
I close the door, quietly locking it before walking toward my desk.
“What the hell was that?” she demands.
My words were crass, my accusation uncalled for, but I don’t regret it, not when she’s fired up—eyes blazing, cheeks flushed. She’s ferocious, sexy, and impossible to resist.
“Now I get the silent treatment?” she snaps, chest heaving as she sucks in angry breaths.
I say nothing and press a button, turning the glass wall opaque and concealing us from the rest of the office.
Paige’s breathing slows and her throat bobs.
What I’m about to do is crazy, but I can’t shake this overwhelming desire to make an impression so that I’m not just some guy she forgets about when she gets on that plane and starts her life without me.
I check the time. Five minutes until the conference call.
I slip on my jacket, adjust the cuffs of my shirt, and look at her. “Get on your knees.”
She sucks in a breath. “Are you serious?”
The anticipation licking up my spine is very fucking serious. Carefully, I straighten my shirt, smoothing any visible creases, and check that my tie is neatly placed for the incoming conference call. Channeling the dominating main characters she’s fawned over in her videos, I look her body up and down, making it clear how serious I am. “Do you want to be my naughty assistant, just like in those dirty books you love?”
Her lips part and her breathing stutters.
Of course she does. Her eyes are almost black, her chest heaving, and her nipples tight. If I slipped my fingers under her dress, my assistant would be wet for her boss.
“Miss Grier, I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
She bites her bottom lip and nods.
I reach for the button on my pants. “Then get on your knees.”
CHAPTER 7
Paige
Mr. Carlson sits in the chair behind his desk and waits.
This is happening.
I’m a protagonist in a romance book, and I’m about to experience my own spicy scene. My boss is going to do filthy and depraved things to my body in his office, just like in the books I read.
I’m freaking out. But in a good way.
I step toward him.
A call rings out from his computer.
