Page 133 of Sexting the Boss

Her eyes narrow. “No one gets sizing right on the first try unless they’ve secretly measured me in my sleep or hired a tailor with psychic abilities.”

“I have people who know things,” I say simply.

She mutters something that sounds a lot likecreepy, and I don’t disagree.

“Convenient,” I counter.

“So what now? You’re dressing me?”

“I prefer undressing you.”

That gets her. She stops walking entirely, standing there in the hallway with her mouth slightly open and a pink flush creeping up her neck.

I keep walking. Smirking.

A second later, she groans and follows. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yet you’re talking to me.”

She rolls her eyes hard.

“Are we done here?” I ask her.

“Not yet,” she says.

Of course not.

“How long,” she says, voice low but firm, “are you planning on keeping me captive here?”

I arch a brow. “Captive?”

“You brought me to your house against my will?—”

“You got attacked in the middle of the street, Sasha.” I take a step closer. “Excuse me for not letting you skip home like nothing happened.”

She folds her arms, not backing down. “You don’t get to make decisions for me.”

“I made one decision,” I say through clenched teeth, “and it was to keep you breathing.”

Her nostrils flare. “You keep saying that. ‘Keep me safe.’ But from what, Damien?” She jabs a finger toward the front of the house. “Those guys? You think they were after me?”

“No,” I snap. “They were after me.”

The words hang in the air like a blade between us.

Her brows furrow, her voice softer now. “Then why am I in danger?”

Because you’re not just some girl anymore. Because you got too close. Because I dragged you into a world that doesn’t play fair.

I exhale, raking a hand through my hair. “You’re connected to me now. That’s all it takes.”

She studies me like she’s trying to crack a code, something behind her eyes flashing—curiosity, frustration, something I can’t name.

“Is that what this is?” she says. “You feel responsible for me?”

I hate how unsure she sounds.

I take another step forward, voice low. “I feel a lot of things for you. Responsibility’s not even in the top five.”

---