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I slam into the conference room, chest heaving, to find Wyn sitting at the furthest end of the table, a wicked smirk tilting her lips.
“What…what are you doing here?”
It takes several attempts to get the words out since Wyn distracts me by playing with the collar of her blouse.
Half the buttons are undone on it, making her modest shirt the picture of indecency.
“I wanted to talk to you about some marketing ideas I had for the upcoming campaign.”
She punctuates her words by popping the remaining buttons free until her blouse gapes open, revealing the dark red lace of her bra.
My brain scrambles—not with what to say, but like a jumbled-up pile of eggs.
“Mr. Ettin?”
The growl that erupts from my mouth is dark and feral.
It echoes around the empty room, and I spy the hairs on Wyn’s arms rise.
But the little tease doesn’t stop her after hours seduction.
She pushes her long-sleeve shirt off one shoulder and then the other, displaying the upturned curve of her perfect breasts.
My tail jerks erratically, slamming into the wall behind me.
Fine lines spider out from the contact, but I don’t care.
Wyn seems unfazed by the frenzy she’s whipping me into.
“First things first, I want to compare numbers between the Posado and the Antillie accounts.”
She shuffles through a stack of papers until she finds what she wants.
“Ah, here we are. According to the numbers, I think it would be best to run all future campaigns based on the Posado model I’ve created.”
It dawns on me what my sawolkeh is doing—and that she wants me to play along.
“I disagree, Wyn. The Antillie campaign is better to base future marketing plans around since it made the most money for our client.”
Wyn tsks, frowning as she dips a finger into her bra, circling a dusky nipple faintly outlined behind the lace.
“It made the money—at too big of a risk. To continually do so with every future marketing campaign is foolish and could cost us millions.”
“Good thing I have millions to venture.”
I’m being purposefully glib since it will irritate my mate, which seems to be what we’re doing.
Role-playing the many months of sexual tension that built between us, culminating in our bet—and the most amazing kiss of my life.
“Mr. Ettin, are you questioning my ability to run my department?”
The grin I shoot her is nothing short of smug mischief.
“I am.”
She gasps, the action causing her breasts to rise, drawing my hungry gaze.
Wyn slams her hands on top of the table and stands.
