I pivot. “Or maybe you want to buy fancy kitchen equipment?”
That makes her pulse race.
“You look like you like to bake. You can have my credit card. There’s a store on 55ththat only sells fancy French cake pans in novelty shapes.”
Her lips part.
She’s putty in my hand.
I pull out my credit card, run the cool metal over the back of her hand. “What do you say? Do you want to pretend to be a billionaire’s girlfriend for the next six weeks?”
“That’s—no!” she shouts, jumping back, then lowers her voice. “Absolutely not.” Apprehension darkens her eyes.
“I will not be your girlfriend. Ever. I will lose my job. And that isnothappening, mister.”
“Well now,that’sinteresting.”
She takes a step back as my eyes light up with predatory glee. “There is a ten-step plan that you need to follow…” she warbles desperately.
“No, no, no, don’t change the subject.” I can see the pulse jumping in her neck. “So,” I drawl, enjoying the feel of my prey cowering before me. “I fuck you, then you’re fired, and I never have to deal with you again? Sounds like a win win for me.”
She swallows. “Did you run out of pennies for the charm machine?”
“Hm. She has a personality after all.”
“I have a personality, mister.” She straightens. “Some of us just like to keep things professional.”
“Maybe this is a question for HR, then. Do you actually have to take my cock, or can I just put my tongue in your pussy?”
Her face is a rash of red.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out to see if her skin is as hot as it looks.
She slaps my hands away before I can touch her.
“No.” She wags a finger at me. “I can see why your brother is tired of your nonsense. You are in desperate need of a PR refresh. We’re adding sensitivity training to your ten-step plan.” She steps around me to rummage in that enormous bag.
“You’re acting like you’re some innocent, naïve little virgin about to be wooed with false promises from her psycho billionaire boss.”
“The psycho part is accurate.” She uncaps a pen. “Let’s sign you up for the intense class.”
“I’m coming at you as an equal, to make a mutually beneficial agreement.” I pull the notebook out of her hand. “I’ll even eat you out if you go to a spa day first. I like it nice and smooth.”
I give in, lean down to brush my lips on the flush of her skin.
“No that’s not—” She squirms.
“Do I have to walk into your supervisor’s office and tell her how you got on the floor and begged me to take you from behind or do you just have to kiss me?”
“I’m not going to kiss you.” Her voice cracks.
“I bet I could make you come like this,” I whisper.
“That’s not a flex. I’m overloaded on junk food and my circulatory system is shot I’m so stressed out.” She pulls at her clothes.
“Sounds like you really need this then.”
She clasps her hands behind her back.
