“Yes, Sir.”
That does something deep and possessive in my chest. I lift her off my lap slowly, setting her on her feet and keeping my handson her hips until she finds her balance. Her legs are unsteady, her dress wrinkled, her lipstick gone, and she looks like she’s been thoroughly handled even though I haven’t given her half of what I want to.
“Fix yourself,” I tell her, not unkindly.
She smooths her dress, runs a hand through her hair, and takes a steadying breath that doesn’t quite work. I stand and adjust my pants, then step in behind her, close enough that she can feel my presence without me touching her.
“I’ll see you at seven,” I murmur near her ear.
“Yes, Sir.”
I unlock the door and step back, watching her walk out with her head held high and her knees still weak, and I don’t stop myself from thinking it.
She’s such a good girl.
8
LILA
I don’t float home, but it’s close.
My cheeks hurt from smiling. My thighs are sore in the best way. My phone buzzes again, and I sit on it just to stop myself from opening his last message for the tenth time.
Wear something I’ll want to take off. That’s your only instruction.
I shriek into a pillow. Then again, and possibly too loudly because the neighbor’s dog barks. Too bad.
I try to get my life together. First goal: feed myself. I open the fridge, look at a suspicious Tupperware, close the fridge, and order sushi. Immediate success.
Next: laundry. I dump a pile onto my bed. There’s a sock I don’t recognize, one bra with a deadly underwire, and a blouse I forgot existed. I fold two towels and then flop back like my body’s been hit by a truck labeled “CEO dick.”
It’s not even 5:00 p.m., and I already feel like the day has been too much. In a good way. Kind of.
I grab my phone again and open the group chat from girls’ night. Might as well tell someone. Sort of.
Me: So, I have a date.
Priya: A WHAT
Jo: LILA. WHO.
Dani: Pics or we riot.
Me: I’m serious.
Priya: Is it the bar guy?
Dani: Wait. The office guy??
Jo: Is it Mr. Silverfox Corporate???
I stare at that last one and chew my lip. My fingers hover over the keyboard.
Me: Can’t say. Contractually complicated.
Jo: You signed an NDA for a date??
Dani: Blink twice if you’re being held in a luxury penthouse.
