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“How do I get over him?” My voice is almost pleading. “By spending the next four months fucking someone in every position imaginable.”
Just as I step across the threshold though, a strong hand palms the front of my waist. He leans in, his cool nose skating across my ear, stealing a tiny gasp from me. “Apparently some people call me the big bad wolf,” he whispers. “But I kind of like it.”
“Why did you tell Belinda to move me here? I don’t know the first thing about serving your wealthy guests. I’m going to disappoint people.” You, most of all. He sets his mug down. “You’re not here to serve my rich guests. I want you to work for me.”
Finally, his hand drops to his side. “I don’t want Michael touching you like that again. Or anyone here, for that matter.” Is he even allowed to demand that? “Why not?” “Because, you’re—” He presses his lips together, cutting himself off. “Because they’re not good enough for you.”
“Is there anything else you need, while I’m here?” I ask as calmly as I can manage. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I know what I need at this moment. Him. Henry takes a step closer to me, heat from his body radiating, his erection now pressing against my stomach, his words stirring my confusion. “Don’t tempt me,” he growls.
“For someone who’s not attracted to insecure, stupid little girls, that sure is a very hard cock you have there.”
“You are so goddamn sweet.” His lips skim over mine as he whispers, “I don’t even like sweet. I like filthy and unemotional. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m at a pivotal moment in my career and you are fucking with my head.”
“It was not supposed to be like this. You were not supposed to have this kind of impact on me,” he whispers, leaning in to skim his wet lips over mine, never actually kissing me. Torturing me, as he has become so good at doing. “I thought you didn’t like sweet.” I don’t know how I’m even capable of answering. He smirks. “I don’t. But the idea of turning my sweet little assistant filthy is driving me insane.”
