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She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smile but didn’t say anything.
“Goodwill is coming Monday to take the furniture from the bedroom next to my office. I gave them your number, so they’re supposed to call you that morning to firm up a time they’re going to arrive.”
She paused the TV and turned to face him head-on.
“Why are you donating the furniture?”
“You need an office.”
“No, I don’t.”
He raised his eyebrows in silent warning, so she added, “Sir.”
That wasn’t what he was cautioning her about.
“Yes, you do, and you’re getting one. End of story.”
“You’re going to convert your guest room into an office, for me, when I’m moving out in three months?”
He didn’t like to think about her leaving.
“I guess I am. What do you have planned for this weekend, because I want to go office furniture shopping at some point.”
“You really don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly fine working in the family room or on the patio. It’s silly for you to waste your money.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of it to waste.”
She pursed her lips but stopped arguing and hit “play” on the remote before settling back in next to him, grumbling, “You’re starting to spoil me as much as you do Phoebe.”
He’d spoil her for as long as she’d let him.
Chapter Fifty
Liam
She seemed to enjoy the freedom that working from home gave her. He appreciated it, too.
Not only did he not have to worry about her running into any board members, but she’d had dinner on the table for him every night since she started working from home. Tonight would make it a month straight that he’d walk in to a hot meal waiting for him.
She’d perfected the 1950s housewife act, too, and it turned him on so fucking much. She hadn’t failed to meet him at the door with a drink and a kiss, and even called him Sir, although she sometimes was cheeky when she did it. And his little “housewife” had her own housekeeper who did the cooking and cleaning. They’d amended their list of rules to include that unless she was wearing lingerie, she didn’t wear panties in order for him to have easy access to fuck her whenever he felt the urge.
He pulled into the drive that Friday night and couldn’t help but smile just thinking about her waiting for him when he walked through the door.
Utah was being punished tonight for not consistently writing in her journal. She was supposed to greet him with his drink wearing only lingerie and heels, and the night was only going to get kinkier from there.
How great is my life?
She stood next to the kitchen island looking every bit his fantasy woman that she was in her black lace lingerie set, complete with garters, black thigh-highs, and stiletto heels.
In her hand was the martini she’d made for him, and around her neck was his collar that seemed to make his dick hard every time he saw it on her.
Mine.
“Hi, little bee,” he said as he took the drink she offered and planted a kiss below her ear. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He set his briefcase down and took a sip of the gin martini, then loosened his tie and asked, “Where’s Phoebe?”
