When I don’t respond, my mouth too dry to form words, she mutters something under her breath. It sounds a lot like,‘I can’t believe my new boss just saw my fat thighs.’Her words, quiet as they were, snap me out of my lust paralysis. I don’t know what part of her statement enrages me more. The word boss, or her referring to her incredible legs as fat.
But, if what she said is true...Yeah, better skip over the obvious ogling of her delicious body for now.
Clearing my throat, I step into my office, making a beeline for one of the chairs that sit opposite the desk and stand behind it, hoping it’ll cover the very thick erection in my jeans.
“Boss?” I grunt, crossing my arms over my chest. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my office?” I ignore the stab in my gut over using the wordmyas I wait for the beauty’s response.
Her dark, thick brows dip in confusion as she mirrors my stance. Her arms folding over her chest causes her tits to thrust upwards, creating the perfect amount of cleavage for my eyes to feast on. I barely, justbarelycatch myself before doing just that, forcing myself to focus on her chocolatey eyes instead.
Focus, Logan, Fuck. You’re almost 40. You fought in a war. You can resist this siren.
But then, she drags her juicy pink lip between her teeth, and my already aching cock throbs in response. “I’m your new assistant,” she says softly.
Though her voice is like silken honey, her statement is ice-cold water, washing over me and dousing my arousal. My teeth grind together so harshly, my jaw instantly aches. “Excuse me?” I grit out as my heart pounds in my chest. No, this can’t be happening.
She drops her arms, taking a step back. Suddenly, she looks afraid, and I find that I hate the look on her. What’s she afraid of? Me? Her fingers begin to tug and pull on the fabric of her dress nervously, but her spine never loses its stiffness, and her shoulders remain pulled back. She’s tough. I like it.
“Stephen hired me to be your new assistant. Well, Logan’s assistant. That’s you, I presume?” Her eyes roam over my body, homing in on the white-knuckle grip I have on the back of the chair. She flinches, and I immediately let go, stretching my fingers out to relieve the tension.
Stephen?Fuck.
Of course, that bastard had something to do with this. It’s just like him to hire someone behind my back. He’s been on me for years to bring someone in to help out. He’s even gone as far as to send Dom, his on-again, off-again boyfriend, to work here. Dom’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but there’s no way in hell I could stand to have him in my office all day. He’s too fuckin’ chatty. I like silence.
The stunning woman huffs a sound of frustration, reminding me that she’d spoken. She asked me a question, I think.
“What’s your name?” I blurt, instead of the twenty other things circling through my brain. For some reason, that seems like the most important one.
She can’t work for me. Point blank. I’d die from blood loss. She’s too beautiful, too perfect. I’d never be able to leave her alone, or I’d end up fucking her on my father's desk and wind up sued for malpractice or some shit.
Absolutely no way is that happening, but the idea of kicking her out right now without even knowing her name makes my stomach clench uncomfortably.
“I’m Shiloh?” she drags out her name, saying it like a question and giving away her confusion.
Shiloh.
Somehow, she makes that one word sound like a sensual caress. It gives way to visions of me fucking her juicy ass, shouting her name to the heavens as I unload deep inside her.
“You don’t work here!” I bark out, irritated with the random sexual fantasies that keep penetrating every single rational thought in my brain. Why do I keep picturing myself filling her with cum? Shit. My heart is hammering in my chest, a dull ache is forming behind my eyes. Anxiety, confusion, lust, and some other unknown emotion are filling me rapidly, causing me to lash out.
Goddamnit. Get a hold of yourself, Logan.
“I’m sorry, but I’m confused. Are you or are you not Logan Huxley, the owner of Huxley Homes?” she snaps, cocking a hip and planting her fist on the luscious curve. I open my mouth, an argument already sitting on my tongue, but Shiloh tuts, reprimanding me like a small child. “Don’t argue! Just answer the question!”
My head jolts back, and my eyes widen in shock. No one talks to me like that.No one.I should shout at her, tell her to get the fuck out. If she’s really my employee, that alone could get her ass fired. But, for some reason, I do none of those things. Instead, I find myself gritting my teeth and nodding at her question.
A small smile grows on her cherub-like face, causing a tiny dimple to form on her right cheek. My stomach clenches again.What’s wrong with me? Am I getting sick?
“Good, now that we’ve gotten that all cleared up, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Huxley,” she says sweetly, her tone much gentler than it had been just seconds before. Stepping forward, she extends her dainty hand. My eyes drop down, and a brow kicks up in question. “This is the part where you’d politely shake my hand.”
Again, without my permission, my body reacts. My hand darts out, clasping her much smaller one in a firm, yet soft shake. Her skin is so damn smooth and delicate against my rough calloused fingers. Her nails are long and red, matching her dress. They look like little claws that I can easily imagine raking down my back. My hand flexes, as though it wants to pull her in, never releasing her again. I force myself to let go and shove the fucker in my pocket before it gets any more stupid ideas.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “No, there’s gotta be some kind of misunderstanding. I didn’t hire you, and Stephen shouldn’t have. I don’t need an assistant.”
She barks out a laugh, then quickly covers her mouth like she’s trying to hide the sound. She shouldn’t. I want to hear it again and again and again. It’s throaty, bordering on sultry. Her voice is how I imagine phone sex operators to sound.
“Clearly, you need me,” she giggles, gesturing to the piles upon piles of paperwork covering every surface of my office. A tick in my jaw forms as my stress ratchets up. Sighing, she steps back, putting distance between us. My body leans forward as if to erase the space she just created. “Look, I don’t know what happened, or how I ended up in a job that wasn’t available for hire, but I’m here now, and you definitely need the help. I’ve already made a ton of progress, and it’s been less than two days.”
Two days? She must have started Monday. Fuck, my brother’s in for the ass-kicking of his life when I get done here.