Page 60 of The Mogul: Leonard

Roxanne

“He is an asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I walk toward the elevators. I push the button to get out of here as soon as possible, and I remember I still have to put on my shoes. I stare at the pink sneakers, and a pang of shame hits my chest.

Anyone seeing me would assume I just had sex with him, and that he kicked me out before I could even dress properly. Why else would I be doing this walk of shame? The man always gets away with it, never the woman.

The ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open should remind me that it is time to walk away and face the reality that he is not into me. But the truth is that there is a chance that he wants me. The erection that I felt in his pants tonight is the same that he had years ago. Nothing changed in that department. And I want answers. I won’t accept this second rejection like the stupid girl I was the first time.

Instead of stepping forward and going home to nurse my bruised ego, I spin and charge down the hall I just came from. I push the door open and find Leonard standing behind his desk. His hands are pressed against the dark wood, and his head is slumped between his shoulders. He seems defeated. He raises a surprised gaze as soon as I step inside.

“Why? I want a reasonable explanation for why you pushed me away again,” I say more firmly than I expected, considering the turmoil agitating my chest.

He shakes his head and looks down.

“If it’s because you’re not attracted to me, fine, but tell me. If it’s because of my age, fine, but I remind you I’m a consenting adult. And if it’s about Raphael, he’s not my father. He has no say in my personal life,” I press, stepping forward until I reach his desk.

He shakes his head again and looks up at me with tormented eyes. I didn’t expect such vulnerability from him. He’s always so put together that now I’m doubting whether I did the right thing coming here.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

Well, I didn’t expect that. His face is honest. There is no way he is lying his way out of this conversation. And I’m confused.

“How is that possible?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He plops into his chair and crosses his hands on his lap. A small smile appears on his face. Is he embarrassed by this conversation? This is a first.

“Every single motivation to stay away from you just crumbled tonight,” he explains. “You’re right. There is no reason for me not to consider you a woman I’m attracted to.”

“So you are attracted to me?” I double-check. You never know. I walk around the desk and stand in front of him.

He chuckles briefly. “Wasn’t it obvious?” He beckons towards his pants.

“Well, yes, but then you pushed me away, so…” I let him draw his own conclusions.

He lets out a sigh and rubs a hand over his face. He seems almost defeated. “I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve never had sex in my office, and I don’t want to treat you like a cheap fuck. You’re not.”

He is so serious he’s almost cute. Jesus, I have to stop thinking this man is cute. He is Leonard, for Pete’s sake. He is hot, exudes power, is cold as ice, is an asshole…he is most definitely not cute.

I walk closer to him, my chest barely containing my racing heart. This is it. This is my chance.

“I never thought you considered me a cheap fuck. We were both into it. It happened here, so what? It’s a place like any another.” I grab his tie and pull it off his neck. “On the contrary, I think it’s flattering that someone like you can’t resist fucking me in his office,” I purr in his ear as I grab his wrists and wrap the tie around them.

“Someone like me?” He smirks, but his breathing is more erratic than before.

“Yes, powerful, sexy, gorgeous.” I smile, standing up and bringing his tied wrists over his head. I walk around his chair and secure the other end of the tie to the back of it. I hear him suck in a breath.

I grin. I love this game.

“What are you doing?” he growls when I walk in front of him.

I curve my lips in a mischievous smile. “I’m making sure you won’t push me away and run this time.”

He lets out a deep chuckle. “Believe me, I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“Good, because I have plans for you tonight,” I purr while I slowly unbutton his shirt without ever moving my eyes from his.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His gaze drips lust.

I part his legs and go down on my knees. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his pants. A big, mouthwatering cock. I slowly unbutton his shirt until I can open it, push the fabric aside, and admire his chiseled body. How is it possible to have such perfection in one single person?

---