When I get there, I beep the horn, and watch in amusement as Oliver all but storms out the door, looking just as flustered as he sounded. His gaze meets mine through the windshield, and I was right. His cheeks still hold that faint shade of blush that looks so perfect on him. I get out of the car, coming around to stand in front of it as he saunters towards me. His jacket shifts, his hair still looks a little wet, and his green eyes are glazed with a mixture of irritation and determination.
“Ah, there he is. My little assistant. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to take on the day.”
Oliver stands up straighter as he comes to stand in front of me.
“I do not believe I asked for a ride this morning,” he says petulantly. My smirk widens.
“No, you did not.” I shrug. “But I thought I had made myself very clear last night, Oliver.” I lean into his space, expecting him to cower, for that submissive nature that tickles me so, to kick in.
But that is not what he does.
No, what he does is so much better.
“Refresh my memory,” he bites, crossing his arms. His oversized watch glints in my headlights stream, and I note his blazer is a little short on the cuff.
Without thinking, I reach for it, and he stiffens. I unbutton his cuff and carefully roll it slowly, up his arm until I reach his elbow. My fingers graze the underside of his elbow.
“I believe I told you, you aremine, Oliver. And asmyassistant, you answer to me. In all things.” My thumb slips over the crook of his elbow, and I feel his pulse. Racing. His skin is smooth to the touch. He doesn’t push me. Instead he stands completely still, and I get the feeling I could touch him however I want.
The thought intrigues me, but it also unnerves me.
Obedience is fun, of course, but a little spark, a little fight…
That is positively enticing.
“So if I tell you to be ready for me, you will be ready for me. Understood?”
I drag my fingers along his smooth skin and work on the other cuff, slowly rolling it up his arm to the crook of his elbow.
His light blue shirt, juxtaposed against the navy of his jacket, his creamy pale skin illuminated by my headlights…
God, I want to see it turn shades of rose and crimson.
I let go of him, noting the way he’s staring at me—his green gaze full of something I can’t quite place.
He swallows hard. “Yes, Sir.”
I smile.
“Good Boy,” I say as I slip my hand down his arm, letting my fingers graze his as I head for his door. I open it, noting how he watches me. He wordlessly obliges, folding himself into my passenger seat with ease.
I close the door and get into the driver’s side. I note the Chromebook in his hands. He stares at it as if it is going to bite him, then sets it down in his lap.
“That is your responsibility, you know,” I say as I back out of the parking lot. The sun is starting to peek through the clouds, lighting up the sky in deep orange and violet shades.
“I know,” he says. “I didn’t mean to leave it, I just, uh… got distracted.”
“Yes, home is very distracting for you. So you say.”
He shifts uncomfortably in the seat, grimacing as if he’s sat on a damn tack.
“You can adjust the seat if you like. I told you, your comfort is important to me.”
“I’m fine,” he says, though his voice is despondent. “Just… tired.”
“Rough night?”
He crosses his legs, his body almost folded in on itself. He looks out the window.
