“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not.” He loosens his tie, letting it hang around his neck, and the now open top button of his shirt reveals a hint of muscle on his chest. “I have to say, I found it very convenient how you just had to cough when Connie was very obviously bending in front of me.”
“She was? I didn’t notice.”
Aaron places his hands on the desk either side of me, and one of his thumbs brushes my thigh as he does so. “And I definitely have to say, it was a nice move with the leg cross. If there were anyone else in here who had seen that, there’d be some happy wives tonight.”
I don’t fight the twitch of my lips. “Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughs once and leans in, ghosting his lips along my jaw, barely touching my skin. “That pink thong you’re wearing—as f**king gorgeous as it is—doesn’t cover nearly as much of your pu**y as you think it does.”
My breath catches when he wraps his fingers around my thigh, dangerously close to that thong. The phone rings and he presses a button on it without moving from me.
“Yes?”
“Your food is here, sir.”
“Send it in.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Food?”
“It’s almost lunchtime.”
I look at the clock on the far wall. “Ten thirty isn’t lunchtime.”
He smirks and answers the door. He locks it without saying a word and sets the paper bags on the desk next to me. “Maybe I wanted you here alone.”
“Really, Aaron, you don’t need to lock me in an office to f**k me. That’s why we have a hotel room.”
His eyes darken a shade. “As much as I’d love to lay you back and f**k you until you scream my name on this desk—and I will, one day—that’s not the reason I’ve locked you in here with me. You’re here because you’re going to talk to me.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then tough shit, because you can’t run from me in this building.”
“You left the key in the door.” I glance over his shoulder. “I could easily leave.”
“You wouldn’t get past security on the door. They have instructions that you aren’t allowed to leave unless you’re accompanied by me.”
“Are you kidding me? You have me on some sort of bullshit office-arrest so we can talk?”
Am I hearing him right? Is he being f**king serious? I shove him away from me and stand. Anger floods my body, making my hands tremble from their resting place on my hips, and I bite the inside of my lip. There isn’t a single part of me that can believe this.
“Dayton.” He says my name slowly, and a hint of annoyance threads through it.
“No, Aaron. Don’t stand there and f**king ‘Dayton’ me. I don’t want to talk to you about anything other than the reason we’re here.”
“I want to know you again. Shit, I need to know you again.”
“You don’t get to do that. My clients don’t know anything about me.”
“I’m not your normal client.”
“Normal or not, you’re still my client and I’m still a call girl. My clients don’t know my real name, for God’s sake, and you have that. I don’t get personal on a job. The only thing that matters is the lingerie I’m wearing and how hard I have to f**k until the guy comes. Not my past. Not what I’ve been doing since you saw me last.”
Aaron chucks his jacket on the chair and eyes me as he rolls up his shirtsleeves. His gaze roams over my face until I feel like every inch of it has been scrubbed raw by the swirling mass of emotion in his eyes.
“Is that what matters? How hard you’d have to f**k me until I’d come for you?”
“I never said that.”
“Yes you did. We’ve already established you’re wearing very revealing, bright pink underwear, so let’s get part two over with.” His voice turns husky. “I’m easy, Day. You could f**k me hard and fast or you could f**k me slow, and I’d come for you. Inside you, over you… As long as you f**k me the same way I’ll f**k you, like you’ll never get enough of me being inside you, I’ll come for you.” He steps a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are we clear?”
Fuck yes, that was clear. I swallow hard and fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together. Crap. I’m so turned on I think he just f**ked me with his words.
“That doesn’t mean I’ll tell you anything. That just means I know how you like sex.”
His lips quirk and he sits behind the desk, the Vegas skyline stretching out behind him. He looks totally at home sitting there, a figure of power and pure sexuality who can word-fuck me like nobody’s business.
“I hope you like this office, because we’re not leaving until you talk, and I don’t care what self-erected walls you have to tear down so you do.” Calmly, like he can’t sense my annoyance, he grabs a bag and pulls out a Subway sandwich.
Ladies and gentlemen, meet the future CEO of Stone Advertising. And he’s eating f**king Subway.
He nudges the bag toward me, and I shake my head.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat it.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
“And I said f**king eat it, Dayton.”
I clamp my jaw and grab the bag. Domineering ass**le. This is why I do men in short doses. I can’t deal with the “do this, do that” crap. I’m too headstrong for it, and I like winning my battles too much to put myself in a situation where I might have to pick them.
I bite into the sandwich and the taste of club sandwich assaults my senses, the different meats mingling together in my mouth. And there’s extra cheese. Toasted. My eyes narrow and flit across to Aaron.
Never trust a guy who knows your favorite sandwich without asking you.
“Whenever we went for lunch at that little English café in Paris and it was on the menu, you’d ask for a club sandwich with extra cheese,” he explains before I can say a thing. “And you sent back three of them because they weren’t toasted, even though you’d asked for it to be. Since Subway doesn’t do those, I improvised.”
I lower the sandwich and perch on the corner of his desk. “How do you even remember that?”
“The things we remember the clearest aren’t necessarily the big, heart-stopping moments everyone expects. They’re the little things that add up. The little things most people look over but that mean the most.”