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I narrow my eyes. He doesn’t want me but thinks he has the right to get jealous when someone else does.
“I guess I’ll be taking annual leave on Saturday.”
“Leave request denied,” he fires back.
I groan in frustration. “What is your fucking problem? Do you enjoy acting like a prick?”
The smirk that graces his lips is sinful. “Perhaps I enjoy your company.”
Rolling my eyes, I tuck myself behind my screen again. He wants everyone to be as miserable as him. I won’t give him the reaction he wants.
“Bring my papers to me. That’s an order.”
I mentally fling every curse word I know at him. Grabbing the papers, I stand up.
“No.” He leans back into his chair. “Bring them over on your knees.” His eyes fill with lust as they roam over my see-through blouse and pencil skirt.
“What?” I hiss.
“Crawl and bring them over to me.”
“No.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s an order, sweetheart.” The challenge is evident in his eyes, and I’m not one to back down.
“What do I get in return?”
“Saturday off.”
I have no intention to go out with Kingsley, but it would be nice to have a day without his calls intruding. Checking behind me to see if no one is watching, I crouch until I’m on my knees. With the papers in one hand, I begin a slow, seductive crawl towards him. My skirt rises slightly with every step, and Huxley enjoys the view. Our eyes stay stuck on each other like magnets. The hairs on my skin stand on alert as a chill runs down my spine from the arousal on his face.
“You look so good on your knees, sweetheart.”
I grin at him. “I look even better naked.” I stop right in front of his seat and look up at him.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Or what?” I goad.
“I’ll show everyone in this building how good you are at following my orders.”
The threat has a small bead of wetness coating my underwear. “I aim to please.”
His tongue darts out to moisten his bottom lip. “Are you going to be pleasing him on Saturday?”
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, wishing it was his. “Maybe.”
“What are you doing on the floor?” Xavier’s angry tone shatters the erotic bubble we were encased in.
I close my eyes shut to think of a reasonable explanation. “There was something on the floor.” I stand up and pull the hem of my skirt down. “All done.”
Huxley raises his eyebrow at me. “As I said before, Savannah, your request for annual leave is denied.”
What?
“Why?”
“I’m not in the business of sharing.”
