I make a note to ban anyone from coming up here and keep the guard posted with horse blinders on. And earplugs.
Yes, she has a guard now. I had to get him because Dad's been wanting me to work for him more and more. One of theprojects falls into line with what the Syndicate is doing for a client.
I wouldn't go and double-cross my father, he's family, and you don't do that. But it's something I can manipulate and work my way.
He wanted someone to inherit the family business. He really didn't have me and how I am in mind.
Mainly because the old man has no idea of what I really am.
But yeah, I've had to spend fucking time doing what I've been doing, so it's not feasible to be in the office every second Lola is.
That, however, works for me. Makes me better in her eyes. Because I'm giving her more freedom. At least, that's how she sees it.
She's still tightly watched and protected, but to her, it feels like freedom.
I know that.
I'm reaping those benefits.
Just having her pant and throw me fiery looks gets me hard, makes me beat off in the office executive bathroom, at home in the shower, and once on her.
"Look at me like that, Lola, and I might bend you over my desk or force you to crawl to me and worship my cock."
She starts to lower herself, but I shake my head. "Stop."
"But you said?—"
"It was a hypothetical. I want it. We're not doing it."
She blinks rapidly. "Sir—Enzo, why don't you want to fuck me anymore?"
I get up and cross to her. Taking her hand, I put it on my erection. "That feel like I don't want to fuck you?"
"No."
"The reason I'm not is this is a lesson in denial. A proper one. You get to come into work, and some days I don't eventouch you. No matter how much you and I want it," I say, lying. Sort of. "When we do it, you're going to explode."
"You've made me come twice."
"No more until I say so. You can't touch yourself, either."
"I'm not going to, Sir."
I step back and check my watch. "The day isn't over for us. Go back and do some work."
"Yes, Sir."
And I have the pleasure-agony of watching her fine ass sway as she walks out of the office.
By the time we head home, it's late, and I've received five texts from Lyndall wanting dinner. She's gone from Thai to pizza to a burger.
I know what she likes, so I order three of them, heaps of fries, and then from another place, matzo ball soup and a salad, just in case soup is all Lola wants.
And I'm hoping that Lyndall will want some salad.
Honestly, the way that kid eats, I'm going to have to hit my home gym extra hard because I've been eating that shit along with both her and Lola.
"I don't have anything on Dom." Lola leans back in the car as the driver battles New York traffic.
