“No.” She doesn’t look up. Irritation radiates off her like a protective shield. I guess she doesn’t like copying.
“You’ll have to finish tomorrow.” It’s not like I need it.
“Where’s security?” She still does not make eye contact. The top of the copier must be damned interesting.
I stroll over to get a closer look but see nothing except the feeder tray sucking papers into the rollers.
“I’m security.”
She stiffens and clenches her jaw. “Is this about the tires? Because if you have something you want to say to me, just say it.”
I should’ve known she was smart enough to read through my remote working ploy. Fine. No more games. “I want you.”
“To what?”
She wants me to be specific? I can do that, but I’m not telling the top of her head how I plan to sink my dick into her pussy. I reach across the machine and tilt her chin up until her eyes are forced to meet mine.
“I want you to take off all your clothes, spread your legs and let me tongue fuck you until you’ve drenched my face with your cum. I want you to get on all fours while I pound you from behind. I want you to sit on my dick and ride me so hard, I have burns on my thighs.”
Her jaw drops in shock and might’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for my finger propping her chin up.
The silence is awkward, so I make a snap decision. “Time to go home.” I walk over to her desk and gather her purse and jacket. “Come on. First we eat.”
“And then what?”
“I think we both know what I want to be act two.”
She shifts from one foot to another while I impatiently wait for her decision. “Are we going to your place?”
My cock could not get harder.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
It’s nearly impossible to keep my hands off of her, but if I touch her, I know I’ll end up taking her on the dirty floor of an elevator or under the increased CCTV surveillance in the parking lot.
She deserves better than that.
“What do you want to eat?” I ask when we reach my car.
“I’m good with whatever you pick.”
“Italian then. You’ll need the carbs.”
“For what?”
I press down on the gas pedal. “For what do you think?”
“I’m just having dinner with you.”
“And spending the night.”
“Sleeping is going to take a lot of energy? Do you have a vibrating bed? Wait. Don’t answer that. Let’s talk about something not related to what’s going on in your head.”
“How is that possible?”
“Do you really work at home?” she persists, changing the subject.
“Yes.”
“As in you have a computer and all of that?”
“Doesn’t everyone have a computer at home?”
“No. Computers are expensive.”
At the stoplight, I twist my head to take a good look at Leila. She’s staying in an extended-stay motel—the type that you rent because you have bad credit or a lack of down payment prevents you from renting. Her clothes are cheap, and her shoes are scuffed. I think the toes and heels of her black pumps are colored in with a Sharpie. I hadn’t really noticed before because she’s so beautiful and so hot that she could be wearing a paper bag and it’d look good.
She said her mom’s dead, and her dad too. The girl has been eking out a living doing temp jobs with no support. My gut twists. That’s criminal. It’s even more criminal than some delinquent slashing tires in the parking lot of my building.
“If you need to use one, feel free to hop on mine while I get dinner ready.”
“You cook?”
“Nah. I’m good with ordering though. I can set out a plate and silverware too.”
“You have a password?”
“Nope. I live alone so it’s not necessary.” I press the button to the gate guarding the driveaway. “Plus, I’ve got this.” I motion to the security devices around the front of the house. “Cameras, gated access. There’s nothing much in my house that a person can steal besides a few watches and a couple of cars. Insurance has it all covered. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything to harm me.” I give her an encouraging smile as I park the car. “Let’s go inside. The computer is in my office down at the end of the hall. Double doors. Wood paneling. You can’t miss it.”
Chapter Nine Leila
This is way too easy. So easy it’s starting to freak me the hell out. I’m in Warren’s house at his personal computer that he gave me full access to. I don’t even have to try to sneak around to get information; he’s handing it to me.
There is no way this man is this dumb. I’m having a hard time understanding what he’s getting out of all of this. Maybe this is a setup, but I can’t pass up this opportunity in case it’s not.
Either way I’m going to leave here with something. I pull out my phone as I bring up Google Chrome. He’s already signed in. I pull up his password list and snap pictures until I get to the bottom. Now I can really dig into his stuff later without the worry of getting caught.
I grab a couple of the newest files on his desktop. I pull up the email and start to put Chris’s in, but I hesitate for some reason. Instead, I decide to put my own in and send it to myself to look at first. I tell myself it’s because I only want to send Chris things of significance but I’m not sure that’s entirely true.
My phone buzzes a couple times, alerting me I have texts.
Chris: You’re in his home. Good girl.
Chris: Remember what I told you.
His good girl makes my stomach queasy. He really wants me to sleep with Warren. At first, I thought he was exaggerating, but the last few interactions we had together made it clear he wanted me to use any means necessary to get him information. I pull at the collar of my shirt. I
