Sir's Redemption (Doms of Decadence 8) - Page 37

“If you fall and hit your head, then it will definitely be my business.”

“Do you take this much interest in all your employees?”

“No,” he said honestly.

Her eyes widened, and she glanced nervously at the door, looking for an escape route. The thought amused him. He realized he liked keeping her off-balance. Just a little, he didn’t truly want to frighten her.

She’s not a sub. But she could be. He could train her—he’d take great delight in training her. And then what? He’d set her free when he got bored with her? When things started to get too serious? Like he did with all the others?

“So, what makes me special?” She gave him a suspicious look.

Shit. What was he doing? He needed to keep away from her. She belonged to someone else.

“I just think your boyfriend should take better care of you, that’s all. It’s obvious to me you’re exhausted. You look like hell. You’re not eating properly and before you read anything into that, the only reason I care is because I don’t want you to do a substandard job while you’re here. I pay your wages, after all and I want you in top shape to perform your job. If you can’t do that while working another job, then you shouldn’t be working two jobs.”

That arrogant ass was the boss from hell.

She was still fuming over what he’d said to her as she made her way out to her car later that night. So, she was a bit tired, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do her job. How dare he insinuate otherwise? If there was one thing she prided herself on it was her work ethic. Even if she’d had to stay all night she would have gotten the job done properly and well.

Just when she’d been starting to think he might not be as bad as she first thought he was, he went and proved that she was wrong. What an asshole.

She didn’t know what his problem was. Had there been any complaints about her work? She was always on time. She did what was asked of her without complaint . . . well, without much complaint. She’d complained plenty when he’d ordered her in that arrogant way of his to clean his office each night. She didn’t know why. He barely used it. And why did he need her to clean it? Why not one of the others? Elsa said she used to go in once a week to clean, but he’d told her Kinley would be cleaning it from now on.

She didn’t like the look Elsa had given her when she’d said that. As though wondering what she’d done to get special treatment from the boss.

What? Like she’d give him a blow job for the privilege of cleaning his office? While he watched over her the way a hawk might watch a mouse? Not hungry enough to pounce, but the threat was always there.

She reached her car and took a deep breath. Time to ease up on the dramatics. Sure, the other staff on the cleaning team were now treating her a bit coldly. The initial friendliness had been replaced with suspicion. Did they really think she wanted to clean his office? To be near him night after night? Because she didn’t. She wished she’d never met him. He was annoying, rude, inconsiderate . . . and he said you were perfect.

He just did it to keep her on her toes. To keep her guessing, wondering what his reasons were. At first, she thought it was a coincidence he kept turning up whenever she was cleaning his space. So, she’d shifted the times around in an effort to avoid him. And every time he still turned up.

How did he do that? Was he watching her? Why? She trembled and reached into her bag for her keys. Now she wished she’d accepted one of the security guard’s offer to walk her to her car. The dark seemed a little menacing somehow.

The first few times James turned up, she’d been a bit creeped out, on edge. But as time went by, she’d become more at ease with him. Not comfortable, but she’d just stopped jumping every time he appeared. She’d kind of figured he was lonely and wanted some company.

Jesus, Kinley, the man is loaded. And gorgeous. Lonely? He probably had a different woman in his bed each night and more friends than she had wrinkles. He wasn’t some lonely billionaire, sitting alone in his mansion waiting for the poor cleaning lady to come along and keep him company with her wit and humor.

She snorted to herself. Sounded like the start of cheesy chick flick. She always did have a good imagination. No, he had other reasons for turning up each night. Probably got a thrill out of making her nervous. And he did make her nervous, for reasons she didn’t really want to examine too closely.

A jerk. The man was a jerk. And she would do well to remember that. If she ever saw him again. After he’d left so abruptly tonight she had a feeling she wouldn’t. And that was not sadness she felt. Because the less time she spent in his company, the better. Maybe he’d stop insisting she clean his office, and she could go back to keeping her head down and just getting the job done.

She climbed into her car and immediately locked the doors. Sloan had insisted she always do that at night, no matter where she was.

Sloan. Her stomach clenched tightly.

For an hour she’d forgotten about him. Maybe she was getting over him. She tried to laugh, and it came out more like a sob. She sat forward, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. Like she could ever forget him. There was a hole inside her now without him. She missed his laughter, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How he’d pull her into his arms and surround her in his warmth and safety. He gave the best hugs.

She missed the way he took care of her, the little things he would do. Like checking the tire pressure or oil in her car. Or the way he’d always make certain he walked on the outside of the sidewalk, because she was safer on the inside. Or the way he

held his hand on the small of her back, a small act of possession.

Damn, she missed that now. Missed belonging to him. Missed having him belong to her. She wanted to cook him his favorite dinner and watch the way his face lit up in appreciation. She wanted to curl up next to him on the couch, rest her head on his lap, kneel in front of him. Hell, she even missed listening to him yell at the television during sports games.

She pulled out her phone. Still nothing. Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her as tears dripped down her face.

He had every right to be angry at her. She knew when she chose to keep secrets that she risked losing him. But while she knew she’d messed up, she had at least thought he might talk things out with her. Listen to her reasons. Instead, he’d completely shut her out.

Don’t try to contact me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.

Tags: Laylah Roberts Doms of Decadence Erotic
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