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“Come in, Mr. Souza,” I say when we reach my office, holding the glass door open and waving Reece inside.
Without a word, he charges past me, eyeing my custom maple-and-walnut executive-style desk as well as everything on it. He acts so much like a fox, it’s a wonder he got hired here in the first place.
I turn to watch him while closing the door behind me.
Located on the top floor of the building, my office has two walls of glass, one to the outside, overlooking the cleaner, greener parts of Fox Hollow below, with the cloudy Hudson River in the distance, and one to the hall, allowing anyone walking past to see in here, including one of the several cameras placed all over this floor. At my desk are three chairs—my leather executive chair and two tufted barrel chairs on the opposite side. Neither of which have ever been occupied, nor have the two other chairs, meant for more casual conversations. Both are brown leather armchairs, facing each other in front of the three floor-to-ceiling bookcases full of non-fiction books I’ve never read and will never read. I prefer fiction to reality any day, but a self-help book discussing the benefits of waking up at five every day looks far more professional than a paranormal why-choose romance featuring four shifters running a train on their fated mate. Or so I’ve been told countless times by my husband who makes me cover all my books at home with white butcher paper.
I gesture to the untouched sitting area. “Please take a seat.”
Crossing the room, Reece starts to lower himself into the armchair closest to the bookcases.
“Not there.” I tap the one sitting opposite it instead. The one with its back to my interior wall of glass and the camera trained specifically on this room. “Here.”
Beside the bookcases is a private bathroom, so once Reece is seated in the correct chair, I excuse myself to it, leaving the door open. The camera doesn’t reach the bathroom but I do have to step to the side to avoid being seen by any passersby. At just the right angle inside, I can still make eye contact with Reece as I bend over, dragging my thong down my thighs beneath my pencil skirt. As soon as the panties hit my knees, I release the material and stand back up, letting the black lace fall to the floor on its own. One foot at a time, I step out of them.
Reece’s chest expands on a ragged inhale, then his dark eyes lift from the thong at my feet to my eyes. His arms flex as he leans forward.
“Ah,” I tut. “There’s a camera aimed at your back. Glued to the monitors live-streaming its feed are three security guards, waiting for something to do.”
Reece’s tongue sneaks out to wet that full bottom lip of his, and I have to take my own irregular breath.
I retrieve the discarded panties before taking the seat across from him, my legs crossed one over the other.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
He shakes my blazer with his left hand. “Stain removal.”
“For such a dumb fox, you sure have a smart mouth.”
“For such a smart fox, you sure like having hollows’ hands all over you.”
“I’m not a fox.”
“You’re not a fucking hollow.”
No, I most certainly am not.
“Do you know what an apex predator is?”
He shrugs. “Top of the food chain. Nothing above it. Like a lion.”
I uncross my legs. “Think bigger.”
Reece’s gaze turns hungry and predatory as it drops to my skirt, but with my thighs still touching, he can’t make out anything exciting.Yet.
“Sharks. That’s why you have one at your house.”
“That’s Kordin’s shark. He thinks he’s a shark. All these men do.” I lazily wave a hand around us. “And me, the only woman here, a guppy among them. But it’s a common misconception, that sharks are apex predators.”
Reece’s eyebrows almost collide. “What the fuck hunts sharks?”
“Orcas.”
I separate my legs a couple inches.
Those eyes as black as the deepest part of the ocean zero in on my pussy before snapping back to mine.
“Right now your body’s blocking me. If you stay exactly where you are, the guards will only be able to see the back of your head and shoulders, not what’s in front of you.”
