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I sit there at my desk, reading over the same set of figures at least ten times before I toss them to the side with a groan. Leaving the office, I head towards the kitchen, but I pause in the hallway, tilting my head to the side when I hear…there it is again, the tinkling, almost musical, sound of laughter. I follow the sound to the games room.
Anna is leaning over the pool table, laughing as Lucas attempts to place her hands on the pool cue and line up her shot. “Look, you just have to…” His body lingers too close to hers, even though he makes a clear attempt not to press against her.
“You’re making it worse.”
“Just hold it properly. You can bend your arm, you know?”
She snorts. “I’ve never done it before.”
“I can tell. Just,” he takes her wrist and slides it down the wood. “There, and look down the length of the cue.”
“You mean the stick?”
He groans. “You’re impossible.”
That smile…she could light up the world with it and it’s sad that I’ve never seen it before. She shifts, leaning closer to the table. She’s wearing another summer dress, not as short as the one she had on yesterday, but as she bends over, the hem rides up her thighs, threatening to brush her ass. Lucas steps back and of course, he fucking looks before he turns away, blushing and flapping. That’s when he spots me. His eyes widen, his mouth opening and then closing rapidly.
“Boss,” he squeaks. “We were just…”
“Lucas, you can go.”
He nods and quickly hurries to the door. I step aside, allowing him to leave.
Anna places the pool cue down and props her hip against the table, folding her arms over her chest. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little warrior was giving me attitude. “You don’t have to be so…” She waves a hand through the air, at a loss for a word.
I move into the room, inching closer as though gravity itself were pulling me. “So, what, avecita?”
“Rude.”
I fight a smile. “Rude?” I come to a halt in front of her, so close that there’s barely an inch of space between us. She doesn’t back away, and I clench my fist at my side so I don’t touch her.
She glares up at me. “Yes.”
“To Lucas?” My hand lands on her hip, gliding down to the hem of her dress before caressing the bare silky skin of her thigh. Her breath catches in surprise, and I force my hand away, clenching my jaw. Fuck. “Or because I come in here and find you with young Lucas, bent over the pool table in another short fucking dress?” I wouldn’t mind if it were me she was in here with, but then, I’d have probably had her sprawled on that table long before any game was finished.
“Why should it concern you? I’m just the whore you have to babysit, right?” She’s angry, and I crave the sound of the laughter I heard only moments before. But that wasn’t for me.
“Lucas is here to guard you, nothing else.” My rage crackles through the air like a whip, and I expect her to flinch back. She doesn’t.
Instead, a high -pitched laugh slips from her lips. “You think, Lucas…” She shakes her head. “He’s not like that.”
I wrap my hand around her jaw, tilting her head to the side. The creamy length of her neck stretches before me, so fucking tempting. “We’re all like that,” I say right next to her ear. “Even you?”
My grip shifts to the back of her neck where I yank her tight against me. Soft to hard, light to dark. Her scent invades every sense I have, and I lean in, skimming my lips over her jaw. “Oh, avecita, especially me.”
She tilts her head even farther, like a damn invite. Her small hand lands on my chest, and it feels like electricity, prickling over my skin, even through my shirt. I’ve fucked countless women, and none have ever driven me mad the way her simple, innocent touch does. None have made me want to claim them. Her hand trails lower, over my stomach, inch by inch. The way she’s looking at me… as if I’m something she’s never seen before. I clench my jaw and fight a groan that sounds more like a growl. Her hand snatches away, but I catch her wrist and bring it back to my chest, holding it there. I don’t know what I’m doing because I don‘t know what she’s doing to me.
My phone dings in my pocket and I take it out, glancing at the screen. There’s a text from Samuel, requesting my presence.
“I have to go and handle something.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back later.”
“Can I co…” she starts and then cuts off, pulling away from me.
“Don’t do that. If you want something, ask.”
