Page 180 of Money Reigns

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What does he see when I’m like this?

Does he sit back in that leather chair of his, silent, smug, taking me in? Or does he lean closer, hungry, restless…

Heat pools low in my belly. My fingers drift, almost without permission, to the hem of my skirt.

Slowly, deliberately, I tug it higher.

Just a few inches. Just enough for him, if he’s looking, to knowI know.

My pulse stutters. I pause, hold still, daring the silence to break.

Nothing.

Which, somehow, makes it worse.

I slide the fabric up further, baring my thighs to the cool air of the office, to the glass eye I can’t see but feel all the same.

My breath turns shallow. My hand slips lower.

I shouldn’t.

But the thought of him watching… of War sitting somewhere with that sharp, possessive gaze fixed only on me, sets my skin alight.

“Are you watching me?” I whisper.

The words aren’t for me. They’re for him.

And even though there’s no answer, no click or glitch or red light—

I feel it.

I spread my legs wider.

Let him have this.

My fingers trail down between my thighs, sliding beneath lace, finding heat and slick and pulse.

I gasp, but I don’t stop.

This is surrender.

To War.

To the way he wants me.

To the way I want to be seen.

Chapter thirty-six

War

The line clicks dead.

Another pointless meeting.

I lean back in my chair, exhaling slow, watching the city burn gold beneath the windows. Four thirty. Almost time to leave.

My mouth curves, sharp with satisfaction.

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