“Thank you.” I don’t tell her she looks good, because there’s no point. I’m not here to make friends. I keep them all at an arm’s length. Perhaps that’s why I’m so lonely. Rather than having a big group of fake friends, I’d rather spend time at home with a good book.
Most nights when I’m not working, that’s where I am. Cuddled up in a big, floppy tee with the latest romance novel. Reading about sex and having it are very different things. Most people don’t know I’m still a virgin.
I down the gin and tonic with a wince before making my way to the foyer where I find Henriette typing away on the computer. Her gray hair is knotted in a severe bun at the back of her head and her kind, chocolate eyes hold affection for all her girls. Her sturdy build always reminds me of my gran who used to give the best hugs. Henriette is about fifty, but doesn’t allow age to play a factor in the way she enjoys her time with us girls.
“Darling,” she smiles up at me. “You have a private dance request. They only requested you,” she tells me with a frown. Most men who have business meetings ask for more girls to entertain them, but I guess I’ll be on my own tonight.
“I just need to use the restroom, then I’ll head in to VIP,” I inform her. A small smile is my response as I head by her and down the hall toward the bathroom. They are so beautifully decked out, they look like they were transported from a five-star hotel. Before I reach the entrance, a hand shoots out, gripping my arm.
“Kristyn?” My heart stops. When I turn to look into familiar mocha eyes, my throat closes with anxiety.
Shit. He did recognize me.
I’m wearing a wig that covers my normally chestnut waves in a sleek raven-colored curtain, but those eyes penetrate me. They see past the façade, finding the hidden girl normally in his office.
Shaking my head, I glare at him. “Wrong girl,” I utter in a low voice, hearing the trepidation in my tone. I’m hoping he’ll release me—pray he’ll realize his mistake.
But I know he won’t.
He can’t.
Because I am her.
I am the girl he orders around every day. The same girl who schedules his meetings and knows exactly how he likes his coffee. My tension skyrockets when he leans in farther without letting go. He inhales me, as if he can sniff out my lie.
“It is you,” he utters in shock. His gaze drinks me in like a fine wine, savoring every drop. When those dark orbs land on the spot inside my arm, I’m done for. My truth is clear. Levi Kingston saw my tattoo when I walked into the office one day because I’d forgotten my phone at work. It was a Saturday, and I didn’t think anyone would be there, but as soon as he exited his office, I was hooked.
I was dressed in my workout clothes—a tiny sports bra and tights—since I’d been out jogging. It was then he saw the tattoo on my arm normally covered in my office attire.
The small ink of a bird in flight has been on my flesh for four years. I got it when I turned seventeen. It was rebellious—the only bad thing I’d ever done. I’d never touched drugs, or even had a drop of alcohol. And boyfriends? Well, they were non-existent.
His gaze roams over me, hinting at the sexual tension between us I already knew was evident. Since the first day I walked into his office, I was too aware of him—of how he made me feel.
And every day since, I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind. He’s too good for me. A successful man like him must have women draping themselves over him at every opportunity.
How could he look at an innocent girl half his age in that way?
He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he shoves me into the restroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Levi has always been a force to be reckoned with, and I could never fight him off. Not that I would. I want him to touch me—to manhandle me. I want to be at his beck and call. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it, but the man exudes sex, hunger, and raw, animalistic desire.
Like a hurricane taking down a city, he destroys me every moment I’m close to him. Each time I’m near him is another second I lose myself. We’re from two different worlds, and they can never clash. My life is too complicated. This innate desire I feel for Levi needs to stay where it is in the back of my mind.
“You should leave,” I tell him. My voice is assertive, but the way I shiver in fear, wariness, and desire doesn’t go unnoticed. I’ve been sassy with him before, offering my opinion when I think something won’t work. But this right here…this is different.
“Kristyn, why are you here?” His question is something I can’t answer. There’s no way I can afford him with the truth.
“This is my time out of the office. I don’t answer to you here,” I inform him, lifting my chin, attempting to find the confidence I don’t feel.
“Like fuck you don’t,” he growls. His voice is a rumble of torturous yearning that sounds pained. Why would it matter to him what I do?
“Levi…Mr. Kingston, this is my life. I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to care what I do when I’m not on the clock.” I place my hands on his chest, wanting to push him away, but I don’t. Heated tingles shoot through my body at the contact. His skin is warm beneath the material. His taut muscles feel glorious under my fingertips.
“Kristyn, don’t fucking test me right now,” he spits out, the words full of frustration. He’s on me in seconds, ensuring I can’t escape. His hands plant on either side of my head against the wall, pinning my back flush against the cool tiles, forcing a gasp to fall from my lips.
“I wasn’t testing you.” My response is nothing more than a whimpering moan. Chastising myself, I push against his body, hoping he’ll let up, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in, his mouth inches from mine.
My core pulses, a heavy ache tightening low in my gut. I’m turned on by his possessiveness.
I want this. I want him.
“I gave you a job. Wasn’t it good enough? You come here to shake your ass in front of assholes who pay you too?” His voice holds more anguish than anger.
“Yet, here you are, asshole.” My retort has his gaze lighting up like an inferno. It burns into me. Fire blazing through a forest, taking down everything in its path.
His hands grip my shoulders and he spins me around before shoving me back against the wall. My face presses hard against the surface.
“What are you doing?” My words are muffled by the porcelain. Soft hues of cream and pink are too close to my face.
“I’m showing you what an asshole I can be,” he growls, lifting the negligee to bunch around my hips. Without warning, he swats my ass painfully, the sting eliciting a whimper from me. He rains down another, and another, until my knees buckle.
I haven’t been spanked since I was a kid. But this is very different. This…this just made me wet, my arousal soaking the flimsy material of my panties. And I wonder just what else Mr. Kingston can and would want to do to me. Those thoughts have my belly fluttering with hummingbird wings. I’ve wanted him since the first day I walked into his office. But it can never work. There’s just no way… or is there?
Chapter Three
Levi