Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to take notes.”
“Why?”
She lifts an eyebrow again, but the humor never leaves her eyes.
“Blue.” My voice randomly breaks into the silence, startling us both.
“Sorry?” She frowns in confusion.
I shake my head. “Your eyes are blue.”
“Kind of gray, really, from what I’m told. But anyway, I’m going to take notes because you’re going to tell me what my job is here since I’ve lost the ability to read minds. I traded it in for my sparkling personality.”
She smiles and bats those intriguing eyelashes. Suddenly, my stomach feels like it’s been twisted into a knot.
I clear my throat and begin telling her what I expect from her each day.
She busily takes notes on her iPad, and when I’ve finished, she only nods slowly.
“There will be other things as I think of them.”
“Sure, makes sense.” She nibbles on the end of the pencil. I can see just the tip of her pink tongue, and it’s almost my undoing.
I’ve never had a hard-on for an assistant before.
“Do you have any questions?” My voice is harsh again, like the crack of a whip, but it doesn’t seem to faze her as she slowly looks up at me.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I will eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not shy about asking for help. Do I have your schedule on my computer out there?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” She stands and tucks her iPad under her arm, then lifts her coffee mug, taking it with her as she strides out of my office.
When she referred to herself as my sub, I’d almost bent her over my desk just to test the waters.
Which is absolutely ridiculous and out of line. She works for me, nothing more.
And yet, there’s a pull there.
I shake my head and open my computer. It doesn’t matter if there’s an attraction—which still shocks the shite out of me because she’s my employee, and I don’t have time to pursue anything with anyone. Even if it’s only sex.
I just need her to do her damn job.
* * * *
This has been the most productive week I’ve had since Mrs. Wilshire left. Maya is efficient and organized, and I don’t hate having her around.
Aside from the fact that I want to fuck her seven ways to Sunday, despite her poor taste in wardrobe.
“What are you staring at?” she asks as she walks into my office. Maya speaks to me as if she’s known me for years. I’ve decided I don’t hate the familiarity.
“The city.”
“I can see that,” she replies. “But you always seem to be looking in the same direction. What’s so interesting out there?”
I gesture for her to join me at the window. She obliges, her back to me as she stares at the city below.
I step up behind her and immediately smell vanilla and strawberries. My fingers itch to embrace her hips, but I shove my hands in my pockets.
Maya’s much shorter than my six-feet-two, and I can look over her head at the view beyond.
“There’s a ferry right over there that takes the same route several times a day. I usually catch it when it’s coming or going.” I point over her shoulder and see her smile in the reflection.
“It’s soothing,” she says. “My parents live on Lake Coeur d’Alene. And I have to say, I love the water. It always settles my nerves.”
I have a house on Lake Washington for the same reason.
Suddenly, she glances up at me over her shoulder. “Where do you live?”
I scowl down at her. “That’s none of your business.”
Rather than take offense, Maya simply shakes her head. “I was just curious because you should live somewhere with a water view since you seem to love it so much. I will someday.”
Shit, now I want to know where she lives.
She turns in front of me and looks up to tell me something, but she pauses, her pupils dilating as her gaze drops to my mouth.
I’m not the only one who feels the chemistry between us.
“What do you need?” I ask, my hands still shoved firmly in my pockets.
“I was just—” She licks her lips, and I have to restrain myself from pushing her against the window and plundering her mouth. “Just going to tell you to have a good weekend. It’s about time to go home for the day.”
“Oh.” I nod and step back so she can easily move past me. “Have a good weekend.”
“Thanks.” She smiles as she walks. “Do you have big plans?”
“That’s—”
“None of my business,” she finishes for me. “Yeah, yeah. It’s called polite conversation, Mr. Langley.”
“Derek,” I correct her, surprising both of us if the look on her face is anything to go by. I never tell my assistants to address me by my first name.
“Derek.” Shit, the sound of my name on her lips is sexy as hell. Why did I tell her to call me that? “I hope you have a good weekend, whatever your plans are.”