The lights in the open office flick on. Someone is coming down the hallway.
“Oh my god!”
Bethany, hands over her belly, stomps toward her office. McCarthy doesn’t move.
It’s every man for themselves. I throw myself through the doorway of the office right as Bethany turns the corner.
Her cheeks hollow when she sees me in my state of disarray.
In the dark, McCarthy rises from her desk. Is it just my imagination or does the room reek of sex?
“Were you—are you—” Bethany sputters.
McCarthy’s hair, normally combed back, hangs over his forehead. If this was one of those historical romance novels that I used to sneak from Rainbow, I’d say he looked rakish.
McCarthy’s eyes slide over me to Bethany then back over to me. “You asking if I’m fucking your employee?”
“We were not,” I stammer and salute Bethany then put my hand down when her lip curls.
“Of course not.” McCarthy is derisive. “I don’t fuck women like her. She looks like she’d be bad at it.”
It’s dismissive. Cold.
I hold my breath.
Will Bethany buy it?
“Why are you here at this hour?” I croak out the words, hoping to change the subject.
“I need to pick up files I forgot.” Her mouth turns down.
Stomach sinking, I realize if Bethany’s here, then her husband probably is too. Itwashim at the window.
McCarthy ushers me toward the elevators, hand on my back. My mind is reeling too much to jerk away.
The limo is waiting, idling alongside the building.
I look up at the office.
McCarthy’s head turns.
I pull him down for a kiss so he won’t see Stu standing there in the window, so McCarthy doesn’t go berserk.
The guardshe hired are waiting at the penthouse when we show up. It’s a new crop.
McCarthy grabs my hand when I reach for the button in the elevator for the garage.
“I’m not staying in your penthouse.”
“Are we seriously still playing this game, Cupcake?” He turns me around to him and kisses down my chest. “You don’t even have to beg for it.”
“No, thanks.” I push the button for the garage.
McCarthy blocks me from exiting. “You can’t change there. I don’t want the guards watching you naked in the car that you refuse to stop sleeping in even though I have ten perfectly good bedrooms in my penthouse.”
I cross my arms and lean away when he tries to kiss me then scurry out of the elevator when it lets us off. The bored guards raise their heads.
“Where do you think you’re going?” McCarthy grabs the back of my neck when I race to the stairs. “Showers are for guests. You’re sleeping in the car.” He knows my thighs are coated with pussy juices, and his spit is all over my tits. He drags me against the banister. “Or do you want me to amend your status?”
