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"And where would I work?" I asked, suddenly feeling a twinge of insecurity.
Oliver's arms tightened around me. "Right where you are," he said firmly. "We're expanding enough to share positions. You seem to thrive in taking care of my buildings when I'm not available. You're a fast learner and you impress me."
His words washed over me, soothing my doubts and igniting a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with our recent activities. As we settled back into a comfortable silence, the limo inching its way through traffic, I found myself looking forward to what the weekend – and our future – might hold.
“I’d like to go to the beach,” I said as I descended the stairs in a daring purple bikini. The top barely covered me, and the thong bottoms left nothing to the imagination. Oliver glanced up, his expression hardening.
“You're not wearing that,” he declared, his voice firm.
I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”
“For one, I can see your ass,” he retorted, eyebrows raised.
“So? Big deal.”
“You wouldn’t have a problem if I wore something that showed off my ass?”
“Not at all. Your ass is sexy,” I shot back with a smirk.
He frowned. “No.”
“Our beach is private.”
“Not private enough that people on the next beach over can’t see you,” he argued, frustration creeping into his tone.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Why? Because I don’t want anyone to see what’s mine?” His voice was low, possessive.
“Possessive asshole,” I muttered under my breath.
“I heard that.”
“You were supposed to,” I quipped.
I pushed open the slider and stepped onto the patio, the bright sunlight hitting my skin. Brenda and Raquel were lounging on the chairs, dressed in matching tan khakis and blue tank tops. They stood as I approached.
“I’d like to go to the beach,” I repeated, my voice determined.
Oliver ducked his head out the door. “You’re not going like that,” he reiterated.
I glanced at my agents, who kept their expressions neutral. I stepped back inside, pushing Oliver out of the way and slamming the slider shut behind me.
“Stop trying to control me,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.
“It’s not control,” he insisted, his grip tightening on my arm as he led me to the bathroom down the hall. He closed the door behind us, pointing to the full-length mirror.
“Turn around,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I did and looked back at my ass. The thong provided no cover, and you could see both cheeks of my posterior.
“I have a hot ass,” I joked.
Oliver frowned. “And that’s exactly what I don’t want displayed. Somewhere around here are Trevor and Vlad. Do you want to give them an eyeful?”
I bit my lip. I hadn’t thought of that, and my face began to grow red with embarrassment.
He crossed his arms. “I can see from your reaction that you agree with me.”
