“As long as you do what I ask, of course.”
“Of course,” he says, swallowing hard. I watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the motion, my gaze rising to settle on his perfectly-shaped, pouty lips.
“And if you do find yourself nervous, for any reason…” My voice drops an octave as I find his eyes once more. “Tell me,” I say sternly. “Your concerns will always be heard. I need you to know that.”
Oliver blinks, licking his lips.
“Do you understand?” I ask. He nods.
“I think so, yes.”
I give him a smirk. “Yes…”
Oliver’s lips turn up in a smile. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good Boy.” I pop open my salad container and the silence falls between us again, but it isn’t awkward. It’s warmer. Softer.
I look at him, at the faint look of relief on his face.
“Eat,” I command. “We have a meeting in half an hour.”
Oliver picks up his sandwich and takes a large bite, and I feel a strange sense of victory.
Perhaps this day is starting to look up already.
Chapter Eight
Oliver
I look up from my computer, noting it’s nearing seven pm, and sigh. My phone’s been quiet all day, and being as I’ve been in and out of meetings and working on this venue list, I haven’t had time to call or text Robbie, which I’d thought maybe adding him as a different namecouldwork, though I’d need to talk to him about that. I thought no communication was a good idea until I realized that Imayneed to check in with him about things like this.
Staying late. Working onactual work.
Sloane looks up from his laptop, perched at the head of the dining room table where he’s been since our last meeting at four.
“Should I pull out the spare sheets?” he jokes, his voice carrying a hint of humor amid the darkness. I hate that justhearing him makes my entire body react like a live wire. I shouldn’t bethisresponsive to a man purely because of hisvoice.
Let alone my boss. Who I’m supposed to be honey trapping to help my boyfriend get revenge.
“Oh, no, I’m just, uh—”
I look at the remaining businesses on the list. I have four left to research and compose information for, which could still take a couple hours…
“I’ll be gone and out of your hair soon, I promise.”
Sloane grunts. “You know you can take that home, right?” He nods to my Chromebook. Shit.
“Yeah, but… you know how it is… home is full of… distractions.”
“No,” he says plainly with a shrug. “I don’t know. My home is my oasis. It is the one place I amneverdistracted.”
I nod. “Right. Sorry.” I go back to the next business on the list.
“Go home, Oliver,” he says, his voice taking on that edge once again. The one that has my insides twisting and my damn dick twitching.
“I will, I just—”
I hear the snapping of the laptop and barely have a moment to process before I feel him in my space. His thick, spicy scent fills my lungs and I feel the heat emanating from him like he’s a fire all on his own. His hand comes down on the lid of my Chromebook until it shuts, his large fingers splayed across the black top.
