Page 43 of Million Dollar High

“I need something to take my mind off my shitty life, Noah.” Her voice sounded so small. His fist clenched on his thigh.

“Your life isn’t shitty.”

“We’ll agree to disagree. Tell me about the T-shirt. What it means to you.”

“No. You don’t deserve to know.”

She inhaled sharply. He steeled himself against the wounded sound. “Noah, I’m sorry if I… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“Do me a favor? Let’s agree to leave our feelings out of any future discussions we have, okay?” She didn’t reply and Noah could almost see her grey eyes darken with hurt. He turned his chair to face the window and relaxed. “What are you wearing?”

“What?” Her confusion almost made him smile. Almost.

“You want something to distract you, tell me what you’re wearing.”

Her breath hitched. “I’m wearing a red and black block leather dress.”

“Go on,” he said.

“Umm… it’s sleeveless, with a long zipper at the back?—”

“So it opens all the way down to your ass?”

“Y… yes.”

“How short is it?” he asked gruffly.

“It comes down to mid-thigh and it has a couple of slits up the sides.”

“And pantyhose. Are you wearing pantyhose, Leia?” Fuck, what the hell was he doing?

“No, I’m wearing black stockings with a red garter and four-inch black heels.”

Her husky voice poured over his senses like the smoothest, most expensive whiskey. His fist unclenched and hovered over his crotch. He leaned his head back further against his chair, and his eyelids drooped as his blood pounded.

“So you power dressed and then decided to end the day by feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I never claimed to be invincible, Noah. I do what I can to survive.”

Her words struck a deep chord within him. He closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded with the game. “You’re only weak if you think yourself to be weak. Now… panties. Tell me you’re wearing panties underneath that short dress.”

“Yes, I’m wearing a black thong.”

He swallowed hard. “One of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Describe the design to me.” His voice sounded so thick he wondered if she had understood him.

She cleared her throat and he heard the sound of leather creaking again. “There’s a cluster of silver studs centered just over where my… umm…”

“Your clit?”

“Hmm… it sends a small pulse of heat if I rub my hand over it.”

The image of her sitting at her desk, her fingers sneaking beneath her dress to touch herself every now and then, attackedhis brain to the point where he pulled the phone away from his ear and bit down hard on his knuckle.

When he could breathe without feeling as if he would explode, he brought the phone back.

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