Page 8 of A Little Red
She hurried to re-tuck her blouse, trying to smooth herself into some semblance of professional appearance. She spotted her underwear on the floor, but Liam was faster.
“Nope. These are mine now.”
He pocketed the panties and moved to sit behind his desk as a sharp knock rapped on the door.
“Come in!” he called, before turning to Scarlet as if they’d been talking the entire time. “I’ll go over the Hearseman report first. Hey, Brett. But I think we might need to run a few more comparables. Can you do a database search and find me some more companies about that size?”
Scarlet nodded mutely and picked up her notepad. Hurrying toward the door, hoping that it didn’t look like an abject retreat.
She sat down at her desk, trying not to gulp air like she’d been running. She recognized that she was not an expert in romantic affairs, but she had thought she at least understood the basics of dating. The only problem was that nothing about Liam was basic.
She logged into her computer, hoping that the rattle of keys would make it at least sound like she was working.
Had he ever had any intention of sticking to the weekend rule?
Liam
Liam waited until the door was firmly closed and he heard Brett’s off-key whistling head down the hall before he took Scarlet’s panties out of his pocket and held them to his face. She smelled so good. Like spring. Like the earth right after the first drops of rain hit the soil.
On the way to work he’d toyed with the idea of following her stupid weekend fling rule. And then he’d stepped off the elevator and caught the first wafting scent of her. By the time he’d glimpsed her chatting with one of the other secretaries in the break room he’d known that he was nowhere near done with Scarlet.
Liam tucked her underwear back in his pocket with a smile and reached for her Hearseman report, amused that she was being so conscientious. He felt like the weekend had earned them some slacking. He certainly hadn’t managed to do much more than respond to a few emails all morning. Honestly, after the endurance marathon of sex all he wanted to do was curl up with Scarlet for a nap. But she either had more energy than he did or felt required to double down on her professionalism, which was adorable. Hell, she was adorable. Every time she said Yes, Wolf, he wanted to… do everything he’d been doing to her all weekend.
He flipped open the report and then realized there were at least five more pages. Slowly he read through it. She had included everything that he’d intended to do once she pulled the initial data.
He scratched his head. That wasn’t normal for a secretary. He thought he’d been pushing his luck to have her pull the data, but she seemed so smart and hadn’t been confused when he’d asked for it. None of the secretaries Fosters Financial hired ever seemed to know the first thing about what Fosters Financial actually did. Apparently, he’d hit the jackpot in more ways than one.
The door opened and Scarlet came in her notepad clutched in one hand and a resolute expression on her face. She carefully shut the door and planted herself in front of his desk and held out her hand.
“My underwear, please.”
He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. Firm Scarlet was priceless.
“No.”
“Yes!” She added a little foot stomp that made him wish she was wearing her Little Red costume so he could watch everything bounce.
“If you want them back you have to come over tonight.”
“No! This is strictly against company policy and I need the job.”
“Yes, very against the rules,” he agreed getting up and going around to her side of the desk. “Fortunately, you’re a rebel.”
She bit her lip and then he did the same, leaning in to kiss along her bottom lip with tiny nibbles. She softened for a moment and then sprang backwards.
“No, no I’m not. I’m a rule follower. Just one of the herd, coloring inside the lines—that’s me! Completely normal.”
This time he did laugh, even as he reached out and pulled her to him. He kissed her gently and softly, luring her into relaxing against him.
“Wolf,” she sighed, in the weakest of protests.
“My Little Red,” he whispered, “normal people don’t have to say they’re normal.”
Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, clearly uncertain of how to respond.
“You will come over tonight,” he said. “It’s what you want to do anyway and think how much easier it will be to argue with me when there’s no one else around.”
She looked annoyed but didn’t have a comeback, so he kissed her again.
