Page 26 of Leverage & Obedience

“I don’t know.”

“Most of it.” His eyes are dark and glittering with something that is definitely not work-appropriate. “You turned that from a crisis into a follow-up in eleven minutes.”

“It was always a follow-up. Frank just didn’t know it yet.”

“That’s what this job takes, Lily.”

He straightens and walks back to his office. He’s gone all of three seconds before I clench around nothing. This is going to get worse before it gets better.

I sit there with his words in my ear and the picture builds before I can stop it. I imagine years of this and knowing every client by name. There’d be a cute glass terrarium with an air cactus on my desk because I kill any other type of plant. I’d be good at this job.

Iamgood at this job. I’m not supposed to want this.

My brain doesn’t care.

For the next few hours, whenever Bren is in the common area, I joke around with everyone and fake reasons to not be at my desk if he walks in my direction. By 2 p.m., I’m getting annoyed. I want him to demand I come to his office.

My body tingles whenever I think of him. Past me did not anticipate this scenario yesterday while I was being cranky that he didn’t text me after I snuck out. I didn’t expect to want to fuck him as soon as I saw him today.

So I turn the volume up. Louder jokes. Bigger smile. I tease Rachel about her sister’s fiancé. I volunteer for the Thompson intake nobody wants and answer the phones too brightly. If anyone’s keeping score, I’m having the best day of my professional life. I refuse to let him know he’s affecting me.

By 5 p.m., the office empties out. Rachel waves goodbye, and I send her off with a joke about surviving Monday.

By 5:15, it’s just me, Bren, and the hum of the HVAC. I haven’t been not-wet since this morning. My desk is clear, and there’s a frozen pizza at home that doesn’t require thought.

His door opens, and he comes out. His sleeves are rolled up and his tie is loosened. The expression on his face is the same, patient one he’s worn all day.

He stops by my desk. “Come talk to me.”

Oh,nowhe wants to talk? I’m about to tell him I’m averybusy woman, but instead I find myself walking with him to his office. My legs are clearly staging a mutiny.

When he shuts the door and locks it, heat flares in my core. That fucking lock does it to me every time.

“Sit down.” He’s not using his Dom voice, which makes everything worse because it reminds me of Saturday night. I don’t want to remember how much I liked Saturday.

I don’t sit. I lean against the bookshelf with my arms crossed. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You were going to.”

He’s close enough that the warmth coming off his shirt is its own kind of pressure, and all I want is for him to bend me over his desk and make me not be able to think of anything but his cock. That’s what I signed up for, not whatever that was on Saturday night.

“What happened after we went to bed?” he asks.

I shrug. “Nothing. I had a great weekend. Great food. Fantastic sex. Ten out of ten, would recommend.”

He doesn’t smile, but his Dom voice is back. “Lily.”

“Bren.” I match his tone and tighten my arms. “I’m fine. I slept weird. Being dramatic is my signature personality trait when I’m tired.”

He takes a step toward me and pauses. I want to retreat, but I’m not that woman. I straighten up, and the anklet shifts. The small tug sends a pulse up my calf. I don’t want to think about the anklet right now either.

He takes another step. “What scared you?”

That question is a door I’m not opening. “Nothing scared me.”

“And yet you left while I was asleep.”