“If you’re to work for me, then our relationship needs to be more…” He bites on his bottom lip and sweeps an eye over my thighs again. “Professional.” I feel myself blushing at the way he wraps those plump lips around the word professional. It drips with insinuation, like we’ve been secretly fucking for three months. Which of course, would never happen in a million years. Partly because I’d rather stick a knitting needle in my eye, and partly because I’m sure Raphael would happily source the sharpest one possible for me.
