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Her mouth parts, but she doesn’t respond right away. “I’m not sure.”
I crook a smile. “Are you an adult? Did you consent as an adult last night?” At her nod, I continue. “Did you get wet in the shower when you thought about us?”
The pink hue that splashes her cheeks is all the proof I need.
“Then you’re only saying this now because you think it’s the proper etiquette, the way a woman is supposed to behave.”
“No. That’s not why at all,” she retorts.
“Yes, it is. And if we take this relationship further, I’m going to tell you right now: this behavior gets tiring real fast.” I flip the omelet and then move closer to her. “I might be amused by it some of the time, in certain scenes, but I prefer for you to get past this vapid indecisiveness from the start. As much as I enjoy your self-effacement, your choice to be my submissive—your being aroused by it—is the one, sure thing you don’t have to be ashamed of.”
There’s a spark in her eyes, a connection she senses in my statement, even if she doesn’t want to admit it’s true. Society does a number on women of all generations. Luckily, Alexis won’t suffer that tragedy for long. Once she accepts there’s no real reason to feel any guilt, that is.
With a slight nod, she says, “You didn’t clarify why I’d have to leave.” Her eyes hold mine.
And just like that, my temptress accepts her place with me. She’s more than perfect, and I’m more than tempted to free her of that infuriating towel and reward her.
Not yet. Rules first.
As I return to the stove, I say, “Wells had every intention of advancing you last night. If he passed on the opportunity, I have no doubt that another partner would’ve eagerly approached you soon enough.” I push the omelet onto a plate. “Go get dressed.”
Confusion mars her pretty face as she shakes her head. “You keep saying that as if it’s a bad thing; advance me. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen after a year of being with the same firm
?”
My scowl deepens. “This doesn’t get discussed further until you’re dressed. Otherwise, I’m going to be forced to tear that towel away and fuck you against the damn floor.”
Her eyes widen at my threat, but she doesn’t leave, and I’m all too happy to back it up—my cock already rising to the occasion.
“Down the hall to the left?” she asks.
Burying my disappointment, I nod. It’s best to get the technicalities out of the way before either of us commit. Last night was beyond my expectations, and now I’m unable to come to terms with losing her so soon.
Not before I’ve had my fill.
And that’s all it is, really. A year of desiring one woman has effectively fucked with my head, and the only solution is to fuck her right out of my system. Had I just bent her over my desk months ago…there wouldn’t be any danger now.
For that, I take responsibility for our predicament.
I set a cheese omelet on the table for myself and then go to set her plate on the floor. Reconsidering, I set her a place at the seat next to mine. Normally, this would never happen, but as we’re only now negotiating, it’s what’s best.
Again, I feel the frustration at having my routine disrupted. But that was the point, wasn’t it? One of them wants to make a play for the power seat of the practice, and I revealed my Achilles’ heel.
Gannet set the board, and Wells initiated the move. My counterstrike needs to determine which one of them is trying to distract me. It’s unlikely they’re working together, as men in our position don’t share power easily.
As if I need any more proof of their tactic, my gaze is drawn to Alexis as she enters the room. She’s going to be a lethal distraction. The dress she’s chosen to wear wreaks more havoc on my control than the damn towel. Sheer black material hugs her body, revealing everything, including her thong and bra.
“That dress is meant to be worn alone,” I state, my gaze unwavering, taking in every bare inch of her legs and the dramatically low neckline. “Without undergarments.”
She laces her arms around her midsection as she stares into my eyes, attempting not to cower under my appraisal. “It was impossible to find anything that covered…anything. You don’t expect me to wear this out, do you?”
The fierce urge to spring from my seat and punish her mouth has me gripping the edges of the table. “Please sit,” I say, my tone thick with restraint.
When she merely lingers, fidgeting with the neck of her dress, I push my chair back and storm toward her before she has the chance to react. I scoop her into my arms and deposit her very tempting ass on the table.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, seeking balance, as I slide my hands up her thighs and grip her panties. I lift her up with a firm hoist and then yank the annoying things down her legs. “When I said this dress was not meant to be worn with undergarments, what I should’ve made clear is that I desire for you to lose them.”
She gasps as I reach around her back to undo her bra. “Then you should’ve just said that,” she says, wriggling beneath my touch and taking over the removal herself.
