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“But I don’t want to take advantage of any of this.” She basically swallows air and her shoulders rise as she pushes it out with a storm of words. “You know, the job and the contract? You have such high standards and I’m working hard and I don’t want to sleep my way to the top. Crap, that came out wrong. You know what I mean. No, you don’t. I don’t. I guess I’m trying to say I want to just go and get ready and be on time like everything is normal.”
I take all that in, dissect it. She doesn’t fit any mold I’ve ever seen or known, and no woman, whether a social climber or socialite or someone who wants to bag a billionaire—and I’ve seen and side-stepped all of them—would sleep with me and then try to have everything normal and try to still prove she’s responsible and good at her job. She’d use this.
Maybe that’s cynical, but that’s what I’ve seen. I don’t sleep with my staff—until now. And she’s a different story. In all ways.
But to have her stand here and say perfectly reasonable things and me think she’s lying about…something, is odd.
Because I don’t know what the fuck it is.
I appreciate her playing by my rules and taking after my own standards in that respect.
“What’s the real deal here, Scarlett?”
For a moment she looks like a terrified rabbit, but it vanishes and she narrows her eyes. “That is the real deal, the hot tea. Lukewarm in this case. I have a job to do and my boss really hates me being late.”
She doesn’t move, though.
I find that interesting. Just like I find all the pieces here interesting even if there’s something wrong with them.
Maybe she feels uncomfortable or maybe she’s worried I’ll think she’s angling for more. But everything we have pays her unbelievably sweetly, and it’s all iron clad in my favor.
Nothing about Scarlett since I’ve met her makes sense in light of what I expected. And it’s not my business if there’s something going on, or she’s got an inner battle to forge. I don’t really care, as long as whatever is going on with her doesn’t get in the way of what it is I want.
“Do you want to leave?”
She blinks. “I…what do you mean?”
“I think that’s a pretty straightforward question,” I say with a small smile. “You can go if you want to leave. But do you want to go?”
“I told you about my boss…”
“I have it on good authority he won’t mind if you’re late today. So take that out. Do you want to go or do you want to get back in bed with me?”
For a moment, I think she’s going to turn and leave, but she doesn’t. Scarlett walks towards me. “If this is it, then I’ll take more.”
“Good.”
And I pull her to me and kiss her, her hand sliding down into my pants to wrap about my cock. I take her hand away, and it almost kills me to do it, but I have a few other plans if this is the last time, which it needs to be.
In my bedroom, I seduce her out of her clothes and then I go down on her, and let her do the same to me, stopping short each time of coming. I want to be in her when we both come. I want to prolong that sweet agony.
I tumble her to the bed and slide her up over me, positioning my cock at her opening and then I push into that hot, wet tightness, or she pushes down, and we start fucking, slow and sensuous, with a bite to it that tells me everything’s going to go haywire again.
It’s a good thing I’m the boss because I suspect we’re both going to be late today.
Exceptionally late.
For exceptionally good reasons.
“Take the morning off,” I say to Scarlett as I finish getting ready.
She’s dressed and a part of me is surprised after her quick shower that she didn’t bolt when I was in guest one, taking my own.
Instead, she’s perched on the couch in the bedroom, looking all levels of uncomfortable at the situation, staring at her phone, waiting, it seems, for me.
I’m not exactly sure why I pointed her to my shower as there is a guest one just next door, but I did. And it’s not intimate getting dressed, as the walk-in closet is also a dressing room and that’s what I’ve done, gone in there after my shower and dressed.
It’s not intimate, but there’s something about it, having her there that makes this almost a familial closeness, like we’re a unit.
