“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I murmur.
“I hate this,” he says quietly, checking over his shoulder to ensure my father isn’t still near.
“I do too, but we’ve only got a few more days and then we can come clean.”
“I’ll call you tonight, baby girl. Make sure you answer your phone.” His eyes narrow on me as he backs out of the office.
“Always,” I whisper to him.
It’s not until my father and Reed are long gone that I remember my earlier errand.
SHIT! My panties!
Reed
“Well, well, well — what have you been up to, you old dog?” I’m climbing into the driver’s side of my SUV when George’s words hit me.
What is he talking about?
I turn to face him in the car and freeze. My face pales as the blood drains from it. Hanging from his pointer finger is a white lace thong.
His daughter’s white lace thong.
A thong that is still damp from our orgasms.
Fuck me!
“Someone’s been having a good time,” he laughs, totally unaware of the heart attack I’m currently experiencing.
“Here,” he hands them to me. “You might want to keep these for later.” He gives me a sly wink and turns to fasten his seatbelt.
What. The. Fuck?!
I’m a mixture of turned on and horrified. My little brat has left me her panties. On any given day that would be a gift I would gladly accept. It’s hot as fuck. But it is quickly doused in ice cold fucking water when it’s her father that discovers them.
He’s going to kill me when he finds out, murder me in cold blood.
I am a dead man walking.
Chapter Eighteen
Reed
It’s been forty-eight hours since I’ve been inside her. Forty-eight hours of being near her, of spending the day with her, of little touches and sneaking kisses in quiet corners, but not being able to fuck her.
I’m a desperate man.
“I thought we’d be going straight to the office,” Bella says next to me.
We’re in my car and have just pulled into the underground parking garage of my apartment in San Francisco. I made up a completely bullshit excuse to be here; no one, however, is going to question the boss.
“You thought wrong.” If I’m not inside her in the next five minutes I’m going to self combust.
I grab the bags from the trunk and manhandle her out of the car, dragging her to the elevator with me.
“Reed, Jesus, slow down,” she sputters as I pull her through the sliding doors and hit the button for our floor.
“I am seconds away from fucking you, baby. Unless you want that to be in here where there are cameras for people to see, I suggest you hurry the fuck up and get into our apartment.”
