“It’s not freeloading when you work for it, Cinderelliott. We both know you make enough to pay for your own apartment, but your spoiled ass refuses to live in it.”
“It’s too small for Shrimp to fly around. Besides, I’d rather just bug you all night.” Her body relaxes and she arches a brow in question. “So what are we doing today?”
I lean back in my chair, flashing her a wolfish grin. “You.”
“Duh,” she sasses. “I need more details before I agree. What am I working for?”
“How about your entire first year tuition paid in full?”
She gapes at me. “Winston, that’s too much. It’s like—”
“Right at seventy-five grand. Yes, I know. And it’s not too much. You’ll see.”
“I won’t traipse around the office naked. Deborah already hates me enough.” She crosses her arms over her chest, daring me to argue. At least I know who’s been making her feel like shit. Something I’ll deal with later.
“It’s like you don’t even know me,” I tease. “You know my imagination is far more colorful than that.”
“Unfortunately.”
I chuckle and gesture to her purse sitting on the bookshelf. “Get your phone.”
She prances over to her purse and fishes it out. “You can film it from your phone. It doesn’t always have to be from mine.”
“Who said anything about filming? You really are a filthy girl.”
She pretends to paint on lipstick with her middle finger. “Name your terms, Constantine.”
“I will have Harold open a college fund for you in the amount of seventy-five thousand that can only be used for tuition and anything related to your education. No one can access the funds. Not me. Not your father. Not your stepmother or stepbrothers. Hell, not even you. At least not without proof of where the money is going.”
“You don’t trust me to spend it on school?” Hurt shines in her hazel eyes.
“I don’t trust you not to spend all of it on sweet words from me.” I smirk at her. “I just like the idea of the money being there and untouchable no matter what happens.”
Uncertainty dances across her features.
“Don’t worry, little girl, you can pretend to be my girlfriend some more. I haven’t gotten bored of you yet.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”
“I think you meant to say, ‘You’re an asshole, boyfriend.’”
“Nah, I don’t want to call you that if you want it.”
“Maybe I should pay you to say it.”
“And then my reverse psychology will have won,” she teases with a laugh. “I’ll have outsmarted the great Winston Constantine.”
“You wish it were that easy.” I gesture at her phone. “FaceTime your dad. Have a little chat. Let him know your boss paid your tuition for the first year.”
“Sounds too easy.”
“Because I’m not done.”
She glowers at me. “Of course not.”
“Make the call while sitting on my desk.”
“Fine, but you owe me dinner tonight. Someplace romantic.” She grins at me in that innocent but still deviant way of hers. “Boyfriend.”
I foolishly play her games because she’s always down to get dirty with my own fantasies. But, where I can turn off the good sex and easy banter with the snap of my fingers, Ash will still be staring at me with goddamn hearts in her eyes. It’s a mistake to lead her on, but I can’t stop. She’s an addiction—one that when I quit cold turkey, will destroy us both.
“That’s a whole other negotiation. We’ll discuss dinner later. Right now, I want your panties in your purse and your bare ass on my desk.” I pat the smooth surface. “I don’t have all day, woman.”
“I want steak, and we need to go by the candy store again,” she grumbles, shimmying out of her panties while hiding all the good parts from my viewing pleasure as though she won’t be spread out like a fucking Thanksgiving feast in a few minutes. “You’re out of gummy bears.”
My mouth waters at the mention of them. She’s created a monster. All my teeth are going to rot and fall out if I keep eating that addictive, chewy-ass shit.
With a victorious grin, she struts over to me. I roll back to give her space. She sits on the edge of the desk, spreading her thighs and pulling her dress up to expose herself as I slide my chair back closer.
“Scoot your ass to the edge,” I instruct as she settles her heels on the arms of my chair.
“I feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”
“Does your gyno lick your needy pussy?”
“Ew. Don’t be sick, Win.”
I give her pussy a playful smack. “Too late. Already sick. Now get him on the phone.”
“Are you going to just stare at it and admire it or are you going to lick it?”
“I’m not licking anything until you get your daddy on the phone, little girl. I want to make you whimper and moan as you tell him your sugar daddy took care of you when he couldn’t.”