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“We’ll touch base soon. Seriously, though; if you see Alistair, would you tell him I need to talk to him?”
“Will…” Eloise shivers, her thighs quivering. “Will do.”
The door closes with a click. Instantly, I’m pushing the chair back, shoving Eloise’s legs up until her ankles are on the edge of my desk, and diving between her thighs.
This time, we’re alone. There’s no distraction.
And I’m going to fucking devour her.
Eloise moans and squeals into her arm, shuddering and squirming as I tongue her clit and sink two fingers back into her greedy pussy. Her legs shake, her ankles on my desk as I groan into her pussy. Then her whole body starts to jerk, her velvety walls clamping down around my fingers as her back arches and her hips launch off the chair against my mouth.
“Alistair—!”
She chokes, biting down on her hand to muffle her screams as she comes like a neutron bomb.
Unstable explosives and chemicals.
One spark.
And a detonation to level half a city.
Her sweetness floods my tongue, her thighs clamp down against my head, and her moans fill my ears.
14
ELOISE
“He’s…prickly.” Taylor shrugs. “When he wants to be.”
She raises her glass of wine and takes a sip, grinning at the way Fumi snickers next to her. Then Taylor catches my pointed silence and grins.
“Go ahead, say it.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s…nothing.”
She laughs. “Eloise. We’re not at the office.”
In fact, we’re—Taylor, Fumi, and I—at Terroir et Pays, a gorgeous rooftop wine bar in Soho festooned with twinkling lights and vine arbors. I love that Taylor invited me out for after-work drinks along with Fumi Yamaguchi, Taylor’s friend and one of the top equity partners at Crown and Black. They’re both super cool, not to mention successful and confident. And I have to say, having not really had any girlfriends over the last few years at all, it feels fantastic to be included.
But all and of those thoughts do is make me feel shittier. Here Taylor is, making an effort to be my friend—which she doesn’t have to do, I mean she’s my boss—and all I can think about is how I’m not just her employee.
I’m a spy.
A reluctant one, for sure. But Massimo’s threat still hangs over me, like the sword of Damocles. A week has passed since I tried hunting through Alistair’s locked VIP files for Luca Carveli’s will.
…But instead found myself screaming into my arm with my ankles on his desk as Alistair made me come like a hurricane on his tongue. Things have…cooled since then: both my hunt for Luca’s will, and whatever sparked between Alistair and me.
With the will, I simply haven’t had another chance to sneak into Alistair’s office. I only barely managed to grab the key from the filing cabinet while he was putting his shirt back on the last time, and even then I had to wait a full day until Katerina’s next lunch break to get it back into her desk drawer.
As for Alistair and me? Well…
Massimo has, of course, been a bastard about the delay in getting what he wants, and upped his threats to me involving my sister. But those threats surrounding Camille hit me in even more ways than Massimo knows.
…Because it’s a sobering reminder that I’m not the only LeBlanc sister with a “history” involving Alistair Black.
And God, does that make me livid.
It happened a few months after he cut me out of his life. It’s as if severing all contact, blocking me everywhere, and walking away from whatever “we” might have been, all on the worst night of my life, wasn’t enough of a fuck-you from Alistair.
