“You sound like you want to be fired.”
He whips two fingers across his lips in a zipping motion. Mmop me, he mouths with his lips firmly shut.
“Yeah, you.” It was my idea, and at first blush, it seemed genius. I remove Leila from a zone of danger and place her under my personal dome of security, also known as my house. Here, I would be able to spend time with her uninterrupted. This is ultimately the biggest problem.
She’s distracting. I can’t get anything done because I’m thinking about whether she’s feeling warm or not hot enough, whether she’s hungry or I should make a food run, whether she’s sucking on the end of her pen because it’s a habit or she’s fantasizing about her mouth around my dick.
It’s probably a habit but fuck, her lips would look pretty stretched over my cock with her tits out and her hand buried between her legs. I wonder how long it would take to get her to come. Does she heat up fast or does it take some time to stoke her fires? I’m happy either way.
“Was there something you needed?” Connor prompts.
I start at the sound of his voice. I’d completely forgotten I was on the phone with my assistant. “Sorry. Got distracted there for a moment. Look, we need to wrap up the loose ends on the Mason business. From my review, it appears there are some outstanding liabilities and that there might even be additional ownership issues we need to clear up before we can fix that project. One of the lease agreements identifies an heir. Let’s track him down, pay him off, and move on.”
“On it.”
“Send over the Le Monde portfolio too.”
“I didn’t realize you were ready for that.”
Across the room, Leila’s head remains buried in the contracts I gave to her. I pulled her resume to see what we’d hired her to do, and she has a finance degree from Yale. And we had her copying shit. What a waste.
“I’m going to have Leila work on it.”
“The temp?” Connor’s shocked.
“She has a finance degree. Why not?”
“That’s right. Also a champion chess player. She kind of reminds me of the girl in The Queen’s Gambit.”
I run my eyes over Leila’s blond hair and Cupid’s bow mouth. There’s a resemblance, I guess, but Leila’s a hundred times hotter. It makes me mad how turned on I am by her. I’m going to have to fuck her. That’s the only solution. If I don’t, the inferno building inside me is going to explode.
“You should stop thinking about Leila,” I instruct in a low, angry voice.
Connor sucks in a breath. “It’s like that?”
“Yeah. It’s fucking like that.” I disconnect the call and glare moodily across the room.
“I feel your eyes boring a hole in the top of my head. Did I copy something wrong? Is your assistant tattling on me?”
She’s got a sharp mouth on her, and it only serves to intensify the ache in my groin. “No,” I reply curtly.
She peeks up through a veil of lashes. “Do you hate your job? Every time you talk about work, you seem mad.”
“I love my work.”
“You love it so much you’re about to break your pen in half and it’s plastic, not wood.”
I look down at the writing utensil I’ve gripped between my fingers. The pressure is so fierce that my thumbs are white. I hadn’t even realized it. I toss the pen aside. “Are you a temp because you can’t keep a job with that smart mouth of yours or for some other reason?”
“Maybe someone slashed your tires because they think you’re a bad boss for harassing them at work?” she fires back.
“Sounds like that’s a yes, you were fired because of your back chat. Maybe we should bring back corporal punishment. A few whacks, and you wouldn’t be so chatty.”
“What is your obsession with spanking?”
The words come out of her mouth before she realizes I never mentioned her ass needed to be the body part that should be smacked. She jumps to her feet. “I hear—I gotta—”
I leap out of my chair and am across the room before she can escape. I grab her wrist in one motion, slam the door shut in another, and swing her back to the wall. Her eyes are huge, and her breath is coming out in short, hot pants. I slam my hands on either side of her head and cage her in.
“If you wanted me to paddle you until you can’t walk, you should have said something, sweetheart. I am here for you one hundred percent.”
“I never said that,” she squeaks.
“You must’ve been thinking about it.” I lean in close. “Why else would that pop out? Is that why you’re a mouthy brat? Because you want me to discipline you?” I drop a hand to her hip. She quivers under my touch. I can practically smell her desire. “Does it get you wet to think about being draped over my lap while your thighs grow red from my hand?”