The top two buttons of her shirt are undone, and she's wearing the red lacy underwear set. Bra, at least.
I stare at her cleavage until the color under her skin burns pink and spreads. Then I slide my gaze to her shoeless feet.
Going to her, I take the book and toss it on the sofa, and I pull her up so she's way too close to me.
Fuck, how does she always smell good?
I breathe her in, feathering my hand against her waist. I murmur against her ear, "Consider nine-to-five work hours. You'll get your breaks. There are snacks, along with tea, booze, coffee, and water up here. In here, actually."
And in the living room.
"I'll get you shoes tonight."
"Shoes?"
"This is a work environment during those hours, a remote office job, and I require the correct dress code."
Then I let her go.
We're both breathing unevenly, and my cock's hard, straining against my pants.
She presses fingers to her cheeks. "I'll do it."
"You don't have an option. I employ you."
Lola glares, but the fire in those green depths hooks me deep. "I'm still angry."
"I'm aware."
"I haven't forgiven you."
"I don't want that. Just a job well done."
And with that, I walk out.
Because I'm a moment away from throwing her down and fucking her.
The next few days, I keep away, just dropping by with ridiculously high-heeled shoes and more outfits. She's wearing a different one each day.
And the weird thing is the air is supercharged every timeI go in. Like she just might be testing me, walking around naked, masturbating, or just changing every time to try to catch me spying.
I'm not.
But I might be a fool.
Except I'm smart enough to know not to say a word.
And even my sister is getting whiny about lessons, Con, and home on repeat.
Of course, it's not always Con.
Uncle Gino sent me a man and a woman to help out.
I sent them back.
He called me and told me in no uncertain terms this had nothing to do with me, everything to do with Lyndall, and it would make both Dad and Violet happy.
But with them, Zayne, and a few others from the Syndicate monitoring, they're safe.
