Leaving the magazines and recipes in a neat pile, she crawled over to kneel at his feet. As she unlaced each of his boots, he didn’t move. After taking his boots from his feet, she intended to get up to put them away in the closet.
Before she rose, he spoke. “Loosen my belt.”
Shyla let herself breathe in before rising a little higher on her knees to do as he asked. She was used to taking care of old men who couldn’t do things for themselves. Something like a belt or buttons could be difficult for arthritic fingers to take care of.
Score wasn’t old and his fingers were deft. Still, she did as told. “Would you like me to undo your button?” she asked, blinking up at him through her bangs.
He nodded once, so she unsnapped the top button on his jeans. “Bring me a scotch.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and picked up his boots as she stood.
Taking them to the closet by the elevator door, Shyla put them away, then turned around to head back the way she’d come. The bar was her goal, but she didn’t get that far.
As she passed the couch, Score spoke again, using the pet name she’d heard from his lips many times. “Lamb.”
Shyla stopped to face him, assuming he had another request. If it meant going to the kitchen or the bedroom, she’d have to turn back. “Yes, sir?”
His position was the same, his expression as aloof as when she’d been kneeling in front of him. The only thing different was the angle of his head, which she guessed gave him a better view given how his gaze was sliding over her.
“Take off your dress.”
Her throat twitched and began to tingle. She’d never known a man to be so direct and didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. Having never been in official employment, she didn’t know what was normal, what was expected. Shyla doubted that a boss could ask an employee to strip. But it was late, they were alone, maybe this was less of a professional order and more of a personal request.
Denying that she was attracted to him would be crazy. Despite never admitting it out loud, her desire wasn’t in doubt. She’d never been able to breathe right when he was in the room and struggled to look him in the eye without blushing. It terrified her to think he might see straight through her into the insane and wild fantasies she cast him in. Until meeting Score, Shyla hadn’t known she was capable of having such vivid carnal dreams.
She struggled to claim each shallow breath. “I… I don’t think I should,” she said, sensitive to the pace of her chest rising and falling.
Her own panting filled her ears. Sealing her lips in an attempt to stifle the sound forced the air through the narrower passages of her nose, amplifying the noise.
“I’m not suggesting we fuck… Just take off the dress.”
Parting her lips took some time, if she relaxed too much there was a good chance a whimper could escape. Being so overwhelmed while ten feet of space separated them was crazy.
She was near a phone and had a clear route to the door. If she wanted to run screaming, she could.
No part of her, not one single cell, wanted to escape. Without realizing it, Score was feeding her a new fantasy, one more alluring than the rest because… it was real.
“I… I need this job, Mr. McDade.”
“Shy, look at me.” Until he requested she look up, Shyla hadn’t even noticed her gaze was fixed on the floor. Peeking up, she found he was intent on her. “You are never in danger when I’m around. Do you understand?” She nodded. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
When he rose from the couch, she held her breath for a good half minute. With every step he took in her direction, she grew tenser. Shyla didn’t know what he was going to do, or what she’d do if he did it.
Their height difference was ridiculous. Her body was a splinter compared to the muscle he carried on his. Being all alone in this private space, he could do anything he wanted to her and no one would ever know it.
But Shyla wasn’t afraid when he came to a stop in front of her. Even when he slipped a broad finger under her chin and she began to tremble, it wasn’t in fear. Squeezing her eyes closed as he urged her chin higher, she predicted spontaneously combusting if their eyes were to meet while they were in such close proximity.
“I choose my women carefully these days, Miss Bellamy,” he murmured, the bass of his voice shaking her bones. “And I protect who I choose with my life because they’re precious. You’re precious.” She stopped breathing again. “Open your eyes, Lamb.” Her eyes popped open. When they fixed on his, her lips parted in a short gasp that was almost a squeak. “Could be you’re the most precious.”
The need in her belly warmed and weakened her simultaneously. The intoxicating sensations had a shocking effect on her words. “Are you saying I’m… your woman?” she whispered.
“Taking off that dress will be our first step toward finding out.”
Oh, that was almost a promise, and one that tore at her. Shyla wasn’t adventurous and had little experience with men. Trying to figure out how she might handle one like Score confuddled her.
If he was disappointed, she could lose her job, and that would put her back where she started. “You’re my boss.”
Closing his eyes in a slow blink, his head moved a fraction to the side and then back in a sort of semi shake before opening his eyes.
