Page 43 of Money Reigns
His other hand settles, barely, on the back of my chair again. Not touching me. Not quite. But I feel it anyway. Heat pooling low in my belly, tight and wrong and…addictive.
“Rewrite the closing,” he says, his voice low. “Take out the last sentence. Make the second the last. Add a timestamp.”
I type.
He watches.
I feel his breath.
The heat of his body.
His scent consuming me.
I feel hisrestraint.
And I’m unraveling.
Finally, he steps back.
I exhale like I’ve been holding it in for hours.
“Confidence sells,” he says, eyes still on my screen. “Don’t forget it.”
I finish adjusting the language.
Just enough edge. Just enough polish.
His breath is close behind me, silent, but heavy.Watching.
When I click save, print. I wait.
For his approval. For his silence.
I don’t know which will be worse.
He doesn’t speak right away. Just reaches past me, brushing the edge of my chair as he takes the printed memo from the tray.
Reads it in two heartbeats.
Then:
“Good work.”
I take a breath, relieved.
But before I can thank him, his voice cuts again—cool, decisive.
“Let’s get lunch.”
Chapter eleven
War
The way her lips close around the fork, slow and soft, like she’s savoring every bite, makes my blood thrum with heat.
In want.
I want to wreck something.
