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I swallow. He knows who she is, just like he knew who Lorraine was. Does he know everything about everyone? Or just everything about me? “Some personal grooming.”

“Eyebrows and underarms take no more than ten. Legs take much longer. You have no issues with facial hair. So that leaves only one place.”

I gasp when his hand slips between my legs to skate across my inner thighs.

My body responds despite my confusion, the throb between my legs that never truly abated since that day in the woods surging again. Is this really happening? Is he touching me there?

“If we are going to continue to work together, we need to be open and honest with each other from now on. So I’ll ask you again, because you never answered me the other day.” His eyes never leave my face, something dangerous gleaming in them now. “Did you enjoy watching me jerk off in the shower?”

I shut my eyes. He’s never going to let me forget that.

“Abbi.” It’s nearly a growl.

I let myself nod, my eyes still closed.

“Is that something you’ve seen before?”

I shake my head, unable to find my voice.

“Look at me.”

I force myself to open my eyes, to find him smiling. I trail his gaze as it drifts down over my bare legs. I was cursing the blouse’s length this morning when attempting to tuck it into the top of my skirt. Now, I couldn’t love it more for hiding my ratty white cotton underwear. I need to invest in some new pairs.

His strong hand grips my jaw, gentle but firm, forcing my head back until I meet his eyes. Finally, they’re unguarded. Finally, they show something that I recognize and can identify, even if I don’t believe it—desire.

Finally...

“It was not supposed to be like this. You were not supposed to have this kind of impact on me,” he whispers, leaning in to skim his wet lips over mine, never actually kissing me. Torturing me, as he has become so good at doing.

“I thought you didn’t like sweet.” I don’t know how I’m even capable of answering.

He smirks. “I don’t. But the idea of turning my sweet little assistant filthy is driving me insane.”

I gasp as his hand slides over the curve of my hip, his fingers curling around and then squeezing my small waist. Am I dreaming all this? Is Henry Wolf—my gorgeous billionaire boss who could have anyone he wants—lusting for me?

He edges around until my back is to his chest, the heat radiating off his body, his hand shifting to my other hip, his fingertips smoothing over my taut stomach. “You were jealous of your roommate yesterday. Tell me why. And be unabashedly honest. Please.”

I hesitate. Can I really talk to him so openly? “Because I wanted you to look at me like that. I wanted to be her.” But Rachel is fired, so maybe I don’t want to be her.

He chuckles against my ear, the vibration coursing all the way down to my nipples, tightening them. “She’s a dime a dozen. Do you want to know why I was looking at her like that?”

I nod. Do I? Henry’s so unpredictable, I can’t be sure that what comes out of his mouth won’t be hurtful.

“Because I’m guessing she was one of the roommates who you watched get tongue fucked. That’s what you saw, isn’t it?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but he pushes, “Don’t be shy with me. I don’t want shy.”

I nod and I feel his smile against my ear.

“I started to picture you getting wet while watching her. And the thought of you getting wet, of this body,” both his hands are on my hips, hovering over the elastic of my panties, gripping me tightly, “writhing naked on my bed, with your legs spread and waiting for me to teach you everything you’ve been missing.” The room is beginning to sway with his words. My legs wobble and his grip tightens. He won’t let me fall. “That’s why I was looking at her like that. I don’t want her.”

But apparently he wants me.

My skin flushes as one of his warm, large hands dips beneath the elastic of my panties to cup me between the legs. He groans. “Why did you do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“The truth,” he pushes, his hot, moist breath coating my skin. I tip my head to the side, hoping his mouth will find my neck.

“I wanted to be more like Rachel. Someone you might look at.” I pause. “Do you not like it?”

My knees buckle as his finger slides through my slit once, so slowly. “So you did it for me?”

“Yes.” I don’t... It’s hard to focus. Henry Wolf has his hand in my panties. He wants me.

His finger makes another pass, teasing my clit on its way past. “Fuck, you are soaked. Do you want me to stop?”

I should, for so many reasons. “No,” I whisper shakily. All of me is shaking, even my legs. But it’s not with fear. It’s with anticipation. “I thought this couldn’t happen.”

His hand stills and I’m afraid I said the wrong thing. Oh God, I hope I didn’t. These have been the longest days of my life. I can’t bear the idea of him stopping now.

I part my legs more, hoping he’ll get the message—that I don’t want him to stop.

“I don’t give a fuck about what we can and can’t do.” His free hand coils around the back of my long hair. He tugs my head, forcing it back against his chest until I can see him leaning over me, watching his hand work down below. “You said you would give Wolf everything you have.”

“I did,” I whisper. In my interview, I remember. And he remembers. “So I guess that means I have to give you everything I have.”

His lip curls into a smirk. “Are you willing to do that? Do you want to go back to Chicago knowing more than just some spineless idiot who let you go?”

If I give Henry myself—my body—I doubt I’ll ever think of Jed again. Though Henry may wreck me for all future men. But right now I don’t care about the future. All I care about is the next four months and that Henry’s thumbs are working on my panties, sliding them down until they’re tumbling to the soft, white rug beneath our feet. I step out of them gingerly. While I still have my shirt covering my vital areas, I feel naked next to his fully dressed frame.

“Abbi, answer me.”

I swallow. And nod. Yes, I want this. I want him.

He leads me backward to the edge of the bed by my hips, pulling me onto his lap as he sits, his hard dick pressing against my ass. His hands seize my inner thighs and he pulls my legs apart until they hang on either side of his thighs, and I’m spread wide open.

The full-length mirror that leans against the wall opposite us reflects the shocking image back at me.

“Don’t,” Henry purrs as my body tenses. His palms hold my thighs apart when I try to pull my legs closed, even pulling them farther apart. “There is nothing about this view that you should be hiding from me. In fact...” He lets go of one thigh to work the buttons of my blouse with quick, expert dexterity. Peeling the two sides away and over my shoulders, I’m soon in nothing but my bra.

With complete efficiency, he reaches back and unsnaps the hook, letting the plain cotton material fall to the carpet.

And now I am laid bare in front of a man for the first time in my life, in an explicit way.

His chest presses against my back with his deep exhale. His heated eyes roam my body’s reflection without shame; the sight of them on my breasts makes my nipples tighten with anticipation. “I knew they had to be real but...” His words drift off as he fills his hands with them, the pads of his thumbs running back and forth over the skin, sending shivers right down to my core.

As exposed as I am, I should be ill at ease, and yet his hands and eyes on my body are warming me from the inside out. He lets go of my breasts to skate his hands over my torso and taut belly, his fingers rubbing back and forth over the flat surface. “Are you still sore?”