I blink the exhaustion from my eyes, only now realizing I’ve been buried in my laptop for several hours. It seems like forever ago that I met with Emmaline for coffee, even though it was only last night. Today’s Tuesday, and I have to wait until the weekend to see her again. Fuck. I don’t know if I’ll last that long. Every time I close my eyes, I see the way goosebumps rippled across her perfectly round ass. I see the way the sharp red circle appeared after I paddled her. She loved it. It was her first time submitting to a man, I could tell, and she fucking loved every second of it. She was probably wet from the moment I confronted her.
I shift, adjusting my hardening cock. I might not be able to wait until the weekend to see her again.
There’s a soft knock at my door before Lacey sticks her head in my office. “Logan--”
“Mr. Steel,” I correct.
She clears her throat. “Of course. Sorry. Mr. Steel. Your sister is-”
My tall, athletic sister shoulders her way past Lacey. Her brunette hair is pulled back and slightly dented from the visor she was likely wearing all day. Olivia played tennis through college on a scholarship and now she owns her own tennis academy. As usual, she’s wearing a tennis dress and smells like sunscreen. She flashes me a white-toothed smile, ignoring the look of offense on Lacey’s face. Olivia raises a large brown bag and sets it on my desk.
“I brought you Chinese. My sister senses were tingling and I figured you could use a little nourishment.”
I grin. “So you brought Chinese?”
“I said my sister senses were tingling. I didn’t say I was a fucking nutritionist.”
I chuckle, already feeling some of the stress this week has put on me lifting. “Thanks.” I reach inside the bag and find the crab rangoons I know she’ll have bought. Well, it’s more like imitation-crab rangoons, but there’s a unique satisfaction in eating filthy, processed food that no amount of money can ever completely overcome.
Olivia tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes. “You met someone.”
I nearly choke on the bite of rangoon in my mouth. “What?” I ask.
She nods knowingly as she digs into some lo mein. “You’re glowing like a fucking pregnant woman.”
“Well, you’re only half-right. I met someone, yes. But I’m not pregnant. I’m sorry, you still don’t get to be an aunt.” The joke rings hollow after it comes out just reminds me of the son I lost because of Lana’s bullshit. Thankfully, Olivia doesn’t know that part of the story. No one else does. No one else ever will.
She snorts, all the hardness in her face vanishing as she laughs like it always does.
“What about you?” I ask. “It’s been nearly a year since you even talked about going on a date. I know it’s not easy, but you can’t let what happened with Derek hang over you forever.” He helped her start the academy, but he turned out to be a pervert and cheated on her with a student of his who was barely eighteen.
She takes a particularly aggressive bite of her lo mein, barely chewing before she swallows the whole mouthful. “Yeah, well you’re one to talk.”
“Fair enough. But the point still stands.”
“I’m fine. I have the academy. I have my students. And I have tennis. What else do I need?”
I give her a level look, but say nothing. Olivia and I have had an unspoken agreement ever since we were kids. We’ll call each other on our bullshit, and we’ll pry, but we never press. It makes for a kind of comfort around her I have never quite found with anyone else in my family. I can talk about anything with her.
“Can I at least get her name?” asks Olivia after a little time has passed and I’ve moved onto the teriyaki beef on sticks.
“Emmaline,” I say, unable to stop the corner of my mouth from curling up in a grin as I say it.
“She must be something. You say her name differently. Delicately, and you’re not exactly the delicate type.”
I scowl at her. “New topic.”
She laughs. “Fine. What’s going on with the company? I saw something in the papers about an insider leaking sensitive information about Mr. Steel. What’s going on?”
“What paper?” I ask, heart suddenly pounding. “What paper did you see that in?”
Olivia leans back a little at my intensity. “The Tribune, I think. I’m not sure.”
“Fuck. It could be Lana. No, it must be her. She’s either trying to ramp the pressure up on me or she’s just going to go through with it. Maybe she thinks she’ll get more money if she leaks her fabricated story to one of my competitors.”
“I mean, other than embarrassment, what’s the big deal? So you’re a kinky fucker who likes to play with leather masks and dildos, what does that have to do with your ability to run a company?”