“I’m here about Kinset Industries - my newest company. I believe you’re interested in designing the website?”
Her jaw tries to fall, and I stifle my ha-ha grin as I walk over to hold her chair for her.
“After you, Ms. Branderwood.”
She looks so damn good from the back. Her perfect ass is shaped all the better in this tight little dress meant to be pulled up so her legs can wrap around my waist.
“Okay,” she hoarsely releases, not turning to meet my eyes. “What did you want to see on your site?”
Her quick business air almost makes me smile as I take the seat across from her.
“Straight to the point, Ms. Branderwood? What happened to foreplay?”
She swallows hard as her eyes involuntarily rake over me, remembering what it felt like to be under and on my body, and then her cheeks blush as those scandalous memories arise.
Staring at her generously exposed cleavage, my cock twitches and hardens to the point it’s damn near painful.
What. The. Hell?
There’s no way it only gets hard for her. I can’t be this fucking obsessed. I’m going to need therapy to get back whatever this damn girl took away.
***
Ashiara
This is so fucked up! What is he doing here? Is he trying to make me squirm? Why is he offering me a project for a startup company?
“Um, I don’t think I’m the girl for this project, Mr. Masters. You should probably find someone a little more qualified,” I murmur with a little more of a respectable, less stammering tone, completely ignoring his foreplay remark.
“I think you’re perfect for this,” he says while leaning forward, his hands forming a steeple in front of his face as his elbows rest on the table.
His eyes burn into mine. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s not the playful, flirty guy from the wedding. He’s a commanding force in a suit - calm, composed, and sexy as hell.
“How did you… I mean why did you-”
“Kinset is mostly an internet business, so I knew I needed a phenomenal website designer. Melanie has some of the best web designs for her many little businesses, so I asked her who she used. And here we are. Not to mention, she’s been a little worried about you.”
Shit.
I should call Melanie. I didn’t think about her calling my old number and worrying.
“I’m fine,” I murmur while looking down at my hands.
“Is he bothering you again?”
Why did Melanie call him?
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I murmur while forcing a smile. “So, are you sure you want me for this? If so, we should work on some of the basics right now.”
***
Tag
She’s scared. I can see it in her eyes how scared she is. She’s trying to hide it from me, but it’s so obvious.
I’ve seen her in lust, happy, excited, and scared. That day she told me about this creep, I saw the fear in her eyes. Now, I see it again.
“Don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”
She looks away before shrugging. I can tell she doesn’t want to let me in, and it’s starting to piss me off. She doesn’t have to do this alone, but she’s too fucking stubborn to see it.
“He called, sent a few notes, sent a few texts, and made a few more threats. It’s nothing any different than last time. I moved, changed my numbers, and now he’s not bothering me. Don’t worry about it. It’s not your place.”
Not my place? Someone has to do it, and apparently I'm the only one with balls big enough to do it.
“You shouldn’t be staying alone. I’ve talked to a security company, and I’ve hired some bodyguards to come watch over you until this is resolved.”
Her eyes pop up, and then she shakes her head.
“Tag, you don’t need to do that. I’m a big girl. I can handle this. You’ve got far more on your plate to worry about. Just let me deal with this.”
I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake the hell out of her. I don’t know if she doesn’t understand how dangerous this could be, or if she doesn’t want anyone to know how fucking terrified she is.
“It’s already done. Sorry if you don’t like it, but Melanie will kick your ass if you don’t accept it.”
She chews on her bottom lip, and my cock pulsates all the more. I remember that lip being between my teeth. I remember those tits in my mouth. I remember those perfect hips in my hands.
“Excuse me, Ms. Branderwood,” the waitress interrupts. “These just came for you.”
As the lady places a dozen red roses on the table, all the color rushes from Ash’s face, making her pale enough to pass for the living dead. She is terrified, and it’s obvious where these roses just came from.