I had to keep my head clear, though. But honestly, it was hard. I was dressed up like some tramp, and you’d have to be someone way more moral than me not to feel exposed and a little turned on. You can’t dress up like you would in the bedroom and not feel a bit of that bedroom allure.
I licked my lips and was so aware of the sensation before I pushed it aside. I hated this man. I hated that he dressed me up like a doll.
I just had to keep reminding myself of that.
I walked into the kitchen, looking at the cabinets.
“Place setting for one, Sir?”
“Yes,” he said, absent-mindedly, paying me only a tiny morsel of his attention as he focussed himself upon his cooking. The frying pan sizzling as he set to work on whatever culinary creation he had in mind.
Finding the things I needed to set the table was the most troublesome part, but once I was done… I wasn’t quite sure what came next. I stood there, a little awkward and confused until his voice came out of the kitchen.
“Grab a bottle of wine from the rack, the one on top,” he instructed, not burdening me with the fancy names and boring dates of his wine collection.
When at last it was all done though, he came to the table with his food as I stood there. Not sure what to do with myself as I imitated a living statue.
Though as he began to eat, his eyes would drift to me again now and then.
“Do you have experience in those kind of heels?” he asked me out of the blue, in between bites of his stir fry.
Was I trembling that much? I thought I had it under control.
Honestly, it wasn’t the heels that were bothering me so much, though they were way higher than I anticipated. But it was everything else. Nerves.
I brushed my hand over my stomach, smoothing out the fabric though just for an excuse to hide my eyes from him.
“I’ll get used to them, Sir. I promise,” I raised my e
yes, hoping I looked resolute.
He laid down his fork, and wiped his mouth, gesturing to me.
“Stand closer to me,” he instructed firmly.
I did as he told me, but it put me within an awkwardly close distance of him, right up against my towering boss almost.
“This isn’t an easy job,” he said to me, looking up over my body before resting his gaze upon my face once more. “But the rewards will scale with your effort. Doubling your pay will just be the start, as long as you’re willing to put in the commitment,” he said smoothly, his voice losing some of that edge. But only a little.
“How does that sound to you?” he asked.
“I’ve always worked hard,” I managed, though I had to wonder why my voice sounded so weak. I swallowed, licking my plush lips and tried to be more confident. “I’m sure I won’t let you down.”
Though honestly, I had no idea what I was agreeing to. But I needed the money, and if I needed to dress in a skimpy costume to earn it, I’d do it.
He raised his one arm up, and placed his hand upon my lower back, rubbing there… and brushing against the round swell of my rear.
“I knew I had a good feeling about you,” he said, touching me so brazenly, feeling my flesh through the thin silk and lace fabric of my uniform. “You’ll adapt in no time, I’m sure. Now,” he said, continuing to talk before I could object, “are you hungry?”
There he speared his fork through a piece of chicken and broccoli, looking at me with a brow raised in anticipation of my answer.
My stomach being up with my chest, both of them tight with nervousness, made me want to say no.
But Mr. Romy wasn’t the type of guy that wanted me to say no.
I instead nodded, my head spinning as I looked at that bit of offered food. It really did smell and look divine, but I was too worried about the precariousness of my situation.
And of what he really wanted.