Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

“It’s a two-way street,” I confess.

“I’m not after a relationship,” he whispers through a heavy breath, and my sex clenches to the sound of his deep, commanding voice.

“Neither am I.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Some of that satisfaction you told me about.” I bite my bottom lip and cringe at myself. Did I just say that out loud?

He inhales sharply, neither one of us speaking for a moment or two.

“I can’t mix business and pleasure in my house,” he eventually says.

“If it doesn’t happen in this house, I’m not your employee. I’m just a woman.” I whisper. Okay, where did that come from? Who am I?

He hisses with approval, and I know he liked that answer.

“That’s something to think about,” he whispers.

God, I’m so fucking aroused by this man, it isn’t even funny.

“Are you in bed?”

“Yes.”

“Touch yourself.”

My eyes widen.

What the…?

“Put that pretty little hand in that beautiful cunt and tell me what you feel.”

Holy fuck. Holy, fucking fuck.

He’s dirty.

I slide my hand between my legs and swipe through my flesh. “I’m wet,” I breathe.

“Swollen?” I can hear the arousal in his voice.

“Yes,” I rasp.

“Fuck.”

This is insane, and so damn hot.

A commotion happens in the background and some men begin to talk loudly to him. "I've got to go," he grinds out, clearly annoyed. "We will finish this conversation later."

I nod, damn it. “Okay.”

“Goodnight, my naughty nanny.”

I smile, hang up, and stare blankly at the wall.

Did that just happen?

Sammy and I sit in the car as we wait for Willow to come out from her golf lessons. This seems to be the only activity that she really gets excited about attending. She even wore lip gloss today, and if my suspicions are right, the boy in the office might be in her sights.