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“It’s the housekeeper,” I tell Kurt, my lips pulling upward in sudden excitement. “Anderson Burrows.”
“Andie? What is that girl up to? Nothing good, that’s what.” He sighs and dials a number, then puts the phone to his ear. “Boss, we have a problem.”
I shake my head at him and place my finger to my lips. “We don’t.”
He scowls at me and asks, “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I pull my Glock from the holster at my waist.
Kurt nods. “If you’re sure.” To Gustavo, he says, “Never mind,” before hanging up.
This is definitely not a problem. If anything, this may be the excitement I’ve been craving. Certainly, the thought of catching Andie red-handed gives me the excuse to cross the hard boundary I set. I don’t fuck customers, the cast at the club, and definitely not the staff that work in my home. I never wanted to anyway. Until she showed up with pink rubber gloves, a bucket, and tight-ass jeans, ready to work for me.
Anderson Burrows. The girl with the record that’s been expunged, but no one comes into my casino without me knowing what color they shit. A past can only be hidden, never erased.
Even though she paid for her crime, it was grand larceny, and I wouldn’t have allowed her in my house. But her file was accidentally brought to me with other potential candidates, and I saw her fucking picture. It was her beauty that struck me first. All natural full lips, flushed cheeks and that damned pony tail that stopped me from tossing the file out.
However, it was her huge doe eyes that captured me, crystalline blue and so hopeful. Like she couldn’t believe she was being given the chance to work here.
I spent hours staring at that picture. Went to bed with it on my nightstand only to stare at it again the following morning.
From the start, I wanted her to work for me, but in a totally different way. Even though I knew it was a mistake, that I’d risk her stealing from me at some point, I wanted to see her in person.
It was a risk to hire her, not just to myself, but to her as well. I fucking hate thieves. And it was definitely a huge mistake, not because of her taking something from me, but because of what she does to my damned cock. Every time she steps into a room, my brain does battle with my dick. Fuck, it’s not even a true battle, not when my brain is the one conjuring every filthy image that makes all the blood rush to my groin.
At first, I allowed myself to watch her. I indulged in my fantasies. If she was on a stepladder dusting something up high, I’d envision sliding her shirt over her breasts and sucking on her nipples. If she was down low, on hands and knees, I’d see myself rolling her tight jeans over her ass and fisting her pony tail as I rammed into her.
However, I learned my lesson the day she came into my office to clean. I don’t think she expected me to be home. She stopped in her tracks as if she hit an invisible wall. My gaze immediately tracked the way she breathed, the way her chest fell and rose, and the flush that pinkened the swell of her breasts left exposed by her shirt.
The way she nervously licked her full lips only made me think of the way they’d look wrapped around my dick while I held that ponytail.
It made me so hard I couldn’t leave without exposing how much she affects me, and I had a meeting to get to.
Were she any other woman, I would have taken care of it right then.
But I don’t fuck my staff, so from then on I made it a point to avoid Andie at all costs, always exiting before the bulge in my pants became visible.
Not anymore.
We reach the forty-fourth floor and the doors slide open. I incline my head at Kurt and slip into the darkened penthouse.
Using my cell phone to guide me, I move stealthily through my bedroom toward the large closet.
A rustling sound alerts me to her presence and I freeze. I take another step, and she comes into view.
She’s crouched low, digging behind a pair of my expensive Louis Vuitton shoes, her sweet ass hugged by those jeans that drive me crazy. I click the hammer of my gun into place as I press it to the back of her head.
“Don’t move,” I warn.
Immediately, her hands go up, a stack of bills in her fist. “Please, don’t shoot.”
I snatch the money from her. “It’s not a good idea to steal from an employer, sweetheart. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that?”
“Please.” She spins as she stands and faces me, her blue eyes wide and her lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry. I was desperate. Don’t call the police, I beg you. I can’t afford jail right now.”
“Then you should have thought twice before stealing from me.”
“It’s only a thousand dollars!” she exclaims. “You have billions.”
