“No,” he says firmly, curling his hand into a fist at his side as if he’s holding back from punching someone. “I will go pay my bill now.”
I’m supposed to bring it to him, but he’s already striding away, past the bouncer and out of the VIP lounge. I stare at his back, baffled and hurt, lost as to what I did wrong.
He pays at the front, then stalks out of Octavio’s without a second look back.
CHAPTER
FOUR
VINCENT
Nothing in the world has ever tasted as good as Ms. Kristoff did, and as I stride quickly out of the club, I know I’ll never forget her flavor as long as I live.
But I let it get away from me. I allowed my need to take over, and that was a mistake. She asked me to be alone with her, and I knew exactly what I would do to her if that happened. I would fuck her so fast and so hard, she would probably break apart.
Not with my assistant. One ought to never mix business with pleasure. Even at my position in the firm, such involvement is still a liability.It’s good I finally came to my senses when she suggested the back room, though perhaps I could have tempered my reaction.
But I’m angry. Now that I’ve tasted her delectable pussy, I’ll want nothing else ever again. I’ve ruined myself for anyone else. I should never have partaken to begin with.
I stalk out of Octavio’s and call up my car, which was waiting in a lot a few blocks over. When George arrives, I slide into the back seat and slam the door. George peers at me in the rearview mirror.
“I didn’t expect you so soon,” he says as we pull away from the curb.
“It wasn’t what I had hoped.”
No, it was far more. I could never have imagined I’d meet lovely little Ms. Kristoff dressed to kill, made up like a completely different person. Now my cock is thirsting, craving, still thick under my pants as I remember how sweet and succulent she was on my tongue.
George nods and falls silent as we drive back to my place. I have two apartments in the city, but I prefer my house, which is a bit farther out. It’s a magnificent brownstone with a newly remodeled interior, vaulted ceilings and marblecountertops, and big windows looking out over the river.
Once I’m home, I pour myself a martini and get started on dinner. My personal chef was over earlier today and left me a meal in the fridge, which I heat up to go with my drink.
But it tastes like ash in my mouth compared to the meal I had earlier. How am I going to face Ms. Kristoff tomorrow? I consider calling out sick, which I’ve never done, even when I had a nasty cold last year. But that would be cowardly, and I’d still have to see her again on Monday.
Unless I fire her.
I squash that thought when it flits through my mind. What happened tonight isn’t Ms. Kristoff’s fault, and it would be cruel of me to punish her for doing her after-hours job. Besides, where would I find another assistant like her? I’ve had half a dozen of them during my career, and none compared to her skill.
I need to go in tomorrow and pretend like nothing transpired between us. It will murder me, I think, not to touch her ever again when her skin was so smooth and soft under my hands, but I will just have to die and be reborn with new self-control.
With that certainty in mind, I clean updinner and head to bed. But the moment my eyes close, I remember Ms. Kristoff in my lap, her luscious mouth wrapped around my cock. She’d looked so good doing it, her skill unmatched. It usually takes more than a blowjob to make me come, but I’d unraveled in that wet, perfect mouth.
Now that I’ve drunk from her fountain once, I hunger for it. How would it look with my cock inside that delectable pussy, stretching it wide open for me? Yes, I would have to teach her. That would be a process. But once she could fit me, I would bring her to such heights of pleasure?—
I need to knock some sense into myself. Pissed off, I get out of bed and head downstairs to my workout room. This is how a true orc deals with his problems: he fights them out. I don’t have anyone to attack with a battle axe right now, though, so the weight room will have to do.
After a bit of warmup on the treadmill, I load weights onto my bar and deadlift it as many times as I can, until it feels like my legs are going to give out. Then I get back on the treadmill and run some more.
At last, it feels like I might be able to sleep. Istumble back upstairs and fall into bed, but even as I lie there unconscious, she’s in my dreams.
ROSETTE
Getting ready the next morning, I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been going to work.
What happened last night at Octavio’s stays between us. That’s my job, and I would never violate a client’s trust. But the look on Mr. Roth’s face as he left? The fury, the hatred?
I wonder what kind of disaster I’ll be walking in on. I might even lose my job, now that he knows what I do outside of working for him.
Today, I stick to my daytime makeup—light concealer, a flourish of powder, some color on my eyelids and a few strokes of mascara. Nothing like what I had on last night at the club. I wear my best blouse and a matching skirt, this one longer than my usual. I’ll be the perfect, demure personal assistant, exactly what Mr. Roth wants.
