Page 55 of Last Resort

“So you’re just acting like an argumentative ass for no reason?”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he says.

“I don’t imagine you did considering you were stealing my panties and then scouring the island for their sturdy replacements.”

“Anything for my girl.” He smirks, clearly proud of himself, the mood suddenly shifting from tense to more playful. “They fit okay?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I quirk an eyebrow and return the smile as his eyes dart to my thighs and then back up. “Did you know there’s a homeless outreach center on the east side of the island? Anyway, Rhonda at the front desk volunteers there on her days off, so I gave them to her to add to some of the other donations the staff has made.”

“How charitable of you.”

“You know me, always willing to give to those in need.”

“And what about what I need?” He plays with the pen in his hand, but his eyes are locked on mine.

“I’m pretty sure you can handle your own needs just fine.” I sell the lie despite the ache starting to burn within.

“Huh.” His eyes dip to my cleavage, to my thighs, and then back up. “So what exactly are you wearing under that skirt of yours, then?”

Leaning over, I put my hands on his desk and whisper, “Absolutely nothing.”

His eyes darken immediately, and I’m surprised the room doesn’t ignite from the look alone.

“Take off your skirt,” he orders in a low, even tone.

Jesus. If I didn’t think he was sexy before, now, with those words, and his heated stare, I definitely would have.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “No.”

“You know I don’t like to be disobeyed.”

“This isn’t the bedroom, Callahan.” I take a step back and move over to the brown leather love seat in the far corner of the room. “You’re not in control of me.”

He shoves up from his chair and moves to the office door. He looks out into the now abandoned office before dimming the overhead lights, shutting the door softly, and turning the lock.

When he turns to face me again, I’m reminded of how turned on I was by his dominance that first night. “Take off your fucking skirt, Collins.”

I offer a smile as I sink down onto the couch. “What happened to good, old-fashioned negotiations, huh?” My eyes veer to where he’s already hard as a rock and pressing against the seam of his slacks.

“Sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands.” And now he repeats my words back to me.

“Exactly,” I murmur as I lift my flowy skirt up and shift one of my legs onto the cushion beside me, spreading my thighs to give him the view of all views.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans, his fingers moving as if he’s itching to touch. His eyes flicker from my pussy to my eyes then back down.

“Take out your cock,” I order.

His eyes whip up to mine, his face a mask of surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Take it out. Show me how hard I make you.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Giving you your brownie points for a great attempt at a good answer.”

“But I was wrong?” His eyes track my hand as it rubs up and down my bare thigh.

“You were wrong.” I move my hand between my thighs this time and let the pad of my finger rub over my clit. His hitched breath fills the room. “But don’t worry, I’m a firm believer in keeping those you work with, those you want things from, incentivized to keep them trying harder.”