I pour the wine, offering her a glass. She takes it from me with a small “Thanks,” before bringing it up to her lips. I take the opportunity to sit close to her on the couch. I do it deliberately, feeling the heat of her body, but make sure to keep a little distance between us to ease her nerves. Lety readjusts herself, causing her to scoot closer to me on her own accord. Our legs touch, and if she notices, she doesn’t pull away. I test the waters and angle my body closer, allowing more of our thighs to touch.
“You alwaysthisnicewith your employees?” she asks, arching a brow. The way she says “nice” makes it sound like something more.
“Only the ones I can’t stop thinking about.” I sip my wine; my eyes locked on her lips. My filter is gone. I’m done toying around her, needing her to know who I really am. Not just her boss. And now that I have her alone, lured her here under the guise of work, I don’t plan on holding back any longer. “And don’t pretend you don’t like the attention.”
She scoffs, cheeks flushing. “You don’t know what I like.”
“Oh,I do.” My voice dips low, and I watch the way her throat works as she swallows. A red flush creeps across her cheeks as her fingers flex around the wineglass. She doesn’t move away. That’s important. That’s not to say she isn’t warring with herself—that she’s not fighting her desires.
But she’s also not leaving.
“You’ve been feeding me, complimenting me, dragging me into your car like a damn caveman. What’s this, César? Are you trying to wear me down until I fold? Is that your sick way of hazing me?” Her voice cuts deep, both anger and something that sounds a lot like fear mingling.
Fear that if she opens herself up to the idea of me that she won’t be able to close me out again, perhaps?
“No.” I lean in slightly, letting my voice fall soft. “I’m trying to get you to stop pretending you don’t want this, too. That you don’t want me.”
She laughs, sharp and forced. Her thighs squeeze together, giving away her desire for me. “You’re my boss. You sign my checks. Thereisno ‘this.’” She gestures between us.
I tilt my head, studying her. “And if I wasn’t your boss? If I was just some guy you met at a bar? Or online? What then? It wouldn’t matter, would it?” I ache to tell her I know her. Who she really is. I don’t want to be her fucking boss right now. I want to behers.
“Maybe not to you, but I’ve worked too hard to be seen as more than a body. I’m not some assistant you get to play with until you’re bored.”
I set down my wine and shift closer, close enough that my knee brushes against hers. She thinks I want to play with her? To discard her once I’m done to chase after the next shiny thing that runs my way in heels? I’ve never given her a reason to think otherwise, but that stops now.
“Good,” I say, voice low and deliberate. “Because I’m not bored. And I’ve never been one to play when it comes to you.” She needs to know this isn’t another fling. That her hold on me is unmatched.
The things I would do to please this woman…
She stills, hands clutching her wineglass so hard her knuckles turn white. I’m surprised she hasn’t shattered it, and I’m pissed that she still doesn’t understand I’m not playing. But maybe words aren’t enough for her. A girl like Lety needs to see and feel the words in action. And I’ve been proving my loyalty for her a lot longer than either of us realize. On DesireDen.
“I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching,” I continue. “The way you lean into my touch whenever I brush too close. The way your eyes drop to my mouth when you’re mad at me. I think you want me, Lety. Just like I want you. You’re just too afraid to admit it. Maybe because you don’t think I want you. Even though I’ve stayed with you in the office every night. Wanting to be near you. Wanting to talk to you. Wanting to make sure you’re safe.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. I reach out and drag a knuckle down the length of her jaw. She shivers.
“I’ve never been obsessed with a woman before,” I admit. “But you?” I chuckle humorlessly, unable to stop the shiver racing up my spine. “You crawl under my skin. You haunt me. You think I’m being generous because I like to feed you? I’mstarving, Lety. For you.”
Her breath catches.
I lean in until my lips hover just over her ear. I hammer in the final nails in the coffin with just four little words.
“Iknowit’s you.”
Her whole body jolts, and I think she’s about to make a run for it. But she doesn’t. Instead, she sucks in a deep breath, waiting for me to confirm it.
“You’re CurvyBabe.”
She shoves back off the couch, eyes wide, as she tries to put distance between us. Now I’ve got her. My girl bares her teeth at me. “What the actual fuck?”
I rise slowly, giving her space to ease the confusion and horror I see on her face. When I speak, I try to keep my voice soft. Light. “I’ve known for a while now, mi reina. I’ve been watching you. Admittedly, I didn’t know it was you at first. Not until I saw that pretty little butterfly tattoo on your back. But then it all made sense. Everything clicked for me. My draw to you—why you live rent free in my mind.”
Her chest rises and falls, rapid and uneven. “How the hell—whythe hell—César, that’s private!”
“No, sweetheart,” I murmur, taking another slow step forward, backing her into the wall behind her, “that’sintimate.And I’ve been part of that world longer than you realize. So, I’m not leaving. Not unless you force me to.”
Her jaw trembles, her panting breaths a mixture of fear and desire. “You’re saying you’ve been…watching me?”
“I’ve done more than just watch.” I smirk. “I’ve tipped. Subscribed. Favorited every goddamn video. I know what makes you squirm. I know what makes you moan. I’ve seen you come on your fingers, wishing it was my cock that made your scream like that. I’ve talked to you privately, listened to your secrets—and I never once shied away.”
