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I want to slide my dick right in, past those plump lips and over her pink tongue until she takes it all.
“The tie couldn’t be saved.” She sighs nervously. “I purchased a new one for you.”
Impressive, but not necessary.
I have too many ties to count. The loss of one isn’t worth the effort it took her to replace it, but then again, it is worth this.
Linny Faye, my Vegas angel, is standing in my office.
“Thank you,” I offer because I am a grateful son-of-a-bitch when it’s warranted.
“You’re welcome.” She shoulders her black purse. “I need to get back to my office.”
“Angel?”
Her head pops up. “My name is Linny, Mr. Weston.”
I brush past her to close my office door. I don’t want to broadcast this conversation. I trust Blythe to keep her mouth shut if she overhears something she shouldn’t. I don’t trust anyone else who works on this floor to do the same.
“I have to go.” Linny turns to face me. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
“It’s just the two of us.” I wave my hand in a circle in the space between us. “Cut the bullshit. I know it’s you. You know it’s you, so why the act?”
Her bottom lip quivers in a way that makes me want to sink my teeth into it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I inch closer to her. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You in a tutu and tiara, me in my birthday suit. Us in my bed in Vegas.”
Her eyes widen with shock. She does the song and dance a second time, this time with a shake in her voice. “I said that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Even superheroes can’t hide who they really are behind a pair of eyeglasses.” I lean closer. “I would know you anywhere, angel.”
She reaches up to touch the frame of her glasses. “You have me mixed up with someone else.”
“Do you have a sister?”
She nods. “Bethy.”
“Is she your twin?”
“No. She’s two years older than me.” Her tongue glosses over her lips.
Jesus. I want a taste of that.
“She’s not nearly as beautiful as you, is she?” My eyes are locked to hers.
She crosses her arms. “Bethy is beautiful.”
“But not as beautiful as you,” I stress the last word.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Her gaze drops to the floor.
“I would.” I push because I want to know why. I want to know why in the hell she won’t admit that we fucked.
She lets out a breathy sigh. “You don’t even know what she looks like.”
“It doesn’t matter what she looks like.”
Her brows shoot up. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter what she looks like?”
