Paisley leaned to my ear and whispered, barely moving her lips. “We call them the triplets.”
I raised an eyebrow and looked at them again. They definitely weren’t related, but I could see why the name was fitting. “Yep,” I said. “That’s me.”
They all gushed, rushing to speak until one finally seemed to win the right to ask the first question. “Are you two sleeping together?”
“No,” I said a little too firmly. “No,” I added again. “Not at all. He just told me what my job responsibilities were.”
“Do those include cock sucking?” One asked. The other two tittered with laughter. I might’ve been offended by the question, but I could sense they hadn’t meant it in a teasing or mean way. They seemed happily jealous of me, if anything.
“No,” I said, smiling. “Unless that was in the fine print and I missed it.”
We were all laughing when the door opened and more people came in. More questions followed, and my coffee sat waiting for sugar and cream while I tried to survive the horny inquisition.
After what felt like a small eternity, Paisley finally made an excuse for me and ushered me out of the packed breakroom and back to my desk. “You did good in there,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re not telling us something, but I don’t think any of them picked up on it.”
“Um,” I said. “I’m not–I just don’t want to make things weird. I really need this job to work out.”
Paisley gave my arm a squeeze. “Hey, it’s all good. You can tell me how he choked you against the wall and fucked your brains out when you’re ready. Hey, Cass. You just missed Lola get grilled by half the office.”
Cassie was coming back from the bathroom looking a little green. She paused, did an about-face, and then rushed back the way she’d come from.
“This happens every few weeks with her. You’ll get used to it.”
I felt more than a little overwhelmed, deadly curious to know more about Mr. Stone, and I was already itching to have another shot at getting in Max’s good graces. But above everything else, I felt a warm pulse of belonging. In a weird way, I already felt like this was going to be good for me. Really good. I’d made friends quickly and despite a somewhat alarming level of horniness from the co-workers I’d met in the breakroom, they all seemed welcoming and friendly.
I found myself smiling until I got to my desk and opened my email to see a message from Christian Stone.
To the Social Butterfly,
My office. Now.
-Mr. Stone
Paisley was reading over my shoulder. “Wow. He gave you a cute little nickname.” She shook her head and stared as if in disbelief. “I’m so fucking jealous.”
I cleared my throat. “I guess I should go. Now,” I added in a mockingly deep and gravelly voice.
Paisley slapped me on the ass and grinned. “Yeah, your boyfriend is summoning you. Don’t keep him waiting.”
I rushed off before she could see how red my cheeks were getting. It was only when I reached the elevator that the fear started to really set in.
What was I in trouble for this time?
11
CHRISTIAN
I waited at my desk with templed fingers and an ill-advised hard-on. Despite my fresh reminder that my ass was dangling on the line at the hands of the displeased board, I’d spent all day glancing between my work and the security cameras. Lola fucking Thorn had been bouncing around the office drawing smiles and attention everywhere she went.
The lie I told myself for calling her up suddenly was my fear over her sharing information about my niece. The truth I didn’t want to admit was I felt like I needed to establish control somehow. She was blending in too well and too quickly in the office. She was too goddamn likable.
She came into the room with her chin slightly downturned and her big brown eyes raised up to mine like a puppy who knew it was about to get yelled at. I clenched my jaw and watched her arrange herself in the seat across from my desk, all long limbs and golden skin–all smooth, silky temptation wrapped in a package I should’ve been treating like a ticking bomb.
“You asked to see me?” she said when I didn’t make any move to speak.
“What were they asking you in the breakroom?”
She hesitated and ran her pink tongue over her lips, leaving a glossy sheen that made me think about how she’d taste. I shoved that thought down, pissed at myself for how easily I was letting her claim my usually perfect control.
“I’m not sure that’s your business, Mr. Stone.”
I leaned forward. Something told me this little woman with the big puppy dog eyes wasn’t usually the type to stand up to a man like me. Most people I met weren’t the type to stand up to someone like me. People saw me and they cowered. They ducked back to their desks, behind a phone call, or turned the other way. I wasn’t a person to them. I was a force to be ignored. But apparently Miss Thorn saw it otherwise.