He hoped I could catch Asher manipulating me into having sex with him, or something worse, like sexual harassment.
This recording would only show how much I wanted him just as badly and then how attentive and caring he was in a post-sex environment.
The board would definitely chastise him for having sex on the clock, but if anyone got punished, it would be me.
I'd be fired, and Clayton wouldn't be happy.
Especially when he found out I'd already spent three-quarters of what he paid me on a new apartment, new clothing, and paying off my college debt.
There was no way I could repay that.
My thumb hovered over the delete button for a moment, but I didn't want to delete the recording either.
Something about that softer, sexier side of Asher gave me a thrill.
I wanted to keep it and listen to it, maybe enjoy a private moment at home while thinking of him.
And it made a smirk cross my lips right before my phone started ringing.
Clayton's number appeared on my phone screen and soiled every ounce of afterglow I had left.
I ignored the call because there was nothing to tell yet. I wasn't about to let him know how much I enjoyed that, and I couldn't tell him I had sex with Asher but had nothing for him.
So for now, I'd just pretend nothing had happened and I still had to find a way to do what he'd asked.
But knowing how incredible Asher Locke was when he was in his sober mind made me regret ever verbally agreeing to Clayton's little game.
And now that recording he had of me saying I'd do what he asked in exchange for all that money would dangle over my head like a noose waiting to hang me.
Because one time of having Asher just wouldn't be enough.
I was definitely going back for seconds.
5
ASHER
Veda walked out the door, and I stood there watching long after she was gone.
My body pulsed with endorphins I wasn't quite willing to let go of so quickly.
A deep sense of relaxation and calm swept over me, so much so that I pulled my chair at the head of the table out and sat down, and my eyes tracked over to the bottle of whiskey Veda had taken from me and put on the table.
I felt numb, but not in a bad way. I felt hollow and calm in the best way possible.
And for the first time in two years, it wasn't the whiskey that'd given me a reprieve from my desperate craving for alcohol.
Veda Porter did that.
Her body, her obedience, the way she yielded to everything I told her.
And her scent still clung to me and the air around me like an intoxicating perfume that only made me want more.
I wasn't drunk.
I was high on arousal and instantly addicted to the feeling of being buried inside her so deep, I could feel her heart beating around me.
"My God," I grunted, reaching for the bottle. I'd long since cleaned myself, and her, up, but I was still a mess.
