Wylie:Also went shopping for you, so food is stocked up. I’ve also been learning to make that protein smoothie you like so much, and I think I’ve nailed it. I’ll make it for you when you get back.
Levi:Great. Thanks.
Wylie:Okay, safe travels. See you later tonight.
Levi:Yeah, see you tonight.
“What are you doing right now?”Sandie asks over the phone.
“Spraying Levi’s clothes.”
“What?” Sandie asks on a chuckle.
“He asked me to rewash all of his clothes, and there was no way I was going to do that, so I picked up some fabric spray, and I’m giving them a spray down to avoid extra work.”
“Ooo, smart.”
“Thank you. Also stocked up on grocery store bagels and froze those. The fucker won’t even know the difference. And I did what you said to do with the book, wrote the first few pages and then just copy and pasted shit from the internet and formatted it. Doubt he’ll even read it.”
“Did you bind it together like a book?”
“Yup, he’s going to think I’m a magician.”
Sandie laughs. “And the placemat?”
“Found it at West Elm. Bought three on sale, just in case he tries to pull another stain stunt.”
“You are my hero.”
“Thank you, I try. Oh, and because I half-fisted all of my tasks, I was able to sit on his comfy couch today and work on that entry for Patty Ford.”
“How did it come out?” she asks as I open his underwear drawer and spray the fabric down.
“I think okay. I took a screenshot of her and did a silhouette of her body. Still working in the right lettering, but I think it could be a viable option. I want to make a few options, some sexy ones and some discreet ones.”
“I think that’s smart. When’s the boss supposed to be home?”
“Anytime now.”
“What are you wearing?”
Smirking to myself, I say, “A pair of loose-fitting sweatpants being held up single-handedly by my hips and your Mickey Mouse shirt.”
“Oh my God, Wylie.” She laughs. “That shirt is short on me. What the hell does it look like on you?”
“A toddler’s shirt. I had a very hard time getting it over my breasts. Most of my stomach is showing, not wearing a bra, and I plan on playing with my nipples right before he gets home so they’re hard as stones.”
“You’re evil, but also, I’m interested to see how long he can hold out. I’m invested.”
“I’m interested to see as well,” I say.
“And when he gives in, will you give in too?”
“You know, I thought about that, and I don’t know. I’d have to see how it is at the time.”
“I think that’s fair,” she says. “But also for your sake, I hope you give in. I know how much you’ve wanted him.”
“That was before I found out he was in cahoots with my father. Now . . . now I’m seeking revenge.”
“No, you’re seeking erotic torture.”
We both laugh. “He has no idea what’s coming for him.” I hear some fumbling at the front door, so I whisper, “Oh shit, I think he’s here. Talk later.”
“Bye,” she says as I quickly toss the fabric spray under his bed, making a mental note to collect it later.
Before I walk out into the living room, I play with my nipples quickly, making them poke against the fabric of the shirt.
Perfect.
Feeling good, I strut out of his bedroom and down the hall where I get my first glance at him.
He’s wearing the sweatsuit I picked out for him, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it for the better portion of the flight. He’s left the scruff on his jaw, and there’s some light bruising around his eyes where he got hit in the head the other day. And to my demise, he looks so fucking good that it pains me to have to conduct erotic torture on him . . . because I think it’s going to be just as torturous on me.
Stepping in closer, I say, “Welcome home.” He glances to the side, and immediately, his eyes fall to my breasts.
Classic.
I could read this man like a book.
He wets his lips before his eyes slowly move up to my face. “Uh, hey,” he says before looking away.
“How was the flight?” I walk up to him, letting my breasts skim across his arm before I take his bag from his hand to set it down.
He shivers from the touch and steps back. “It was, uh . . . it was good.”
“That’s great to hear.” I smooth my hand over his arm.
“Yeah,” he squeaks. “Great flight. Just great. All around great.” He backs up to the kitchen island chairs. “Really, uh, great.”
I smirk at him. “Sounds like it was great.” I wink and then add, “I’m guessing it’s better to fly home when you win than when you lose. I’m sure my dad is a nightmare to be with on a flight after a loss.”
His eyes fall to my chest again before he glances away. “He, uh, he doesn’t really say much for a win or a loss.”
I take a step closer. “And here I thought he raged. Well, anyway, welcome home. Let me show you what I’ve done.” I take his hand, which he seems surprised by, and lead him to the dining room table, where his pencils are set up. I pick up the vase and say, “What do you think? Perfectly sharpened, right?”
His eyes remain fixed on me for a moment as if he’s trying to study me, and then he looks back down at the pencils. “Wow, yeah, those look sharpened.” He pulls on the back of his neck, looking so uncomfortable. Just the way I want him.
“Sniff one.”
“Huh?” he asks.
I take his hand in mine again, force him to grab one of the pencils, and bring it up to his nose. “Sniff it like a flower. I know how much you love the smell.”
“Sure, yeah. Love a good sniff.” He leans close to the pencil and takes a short but quick sniff. His eyebrows shoot up as he says, “Woodsy. That’s nice.”
“That’s what I thought when I smelled it,” I say as I press my hand to his chest. His eyes fall to my hand and dart back up to me. “It was a pleasure sharpening those for you, Levi.”
His eyes widen slightly as he sets the pencil back in the vase. “Good to know.” He takes a step back from me and sticks his hands in his pockets, clearly trying to keep his distance.
Inwardly smiling, I turn away from him and bend at the waist, making sure to stick my ass out as I put the vase back down, giving him a great view. When I glance over my shoulder, I catch him checking me out. Yup, this is going to be so much fun.
“And then here are your Skittles,” I say, showing them off at the kitchen counter. “I hope I did it right. Was this what you were looking for?” I stand behind the containers, my breasts right at the same eye level. I watch his eyes scan the Skittles but mainly remain on my chest.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Exactly what I was looking for.”
And thank God my nipples are still hard because what a show for him right now.
“Great.” I walk around the island and take his hand again. I pick up his bag and guide him toward his bedroom.
“Uh, what are you doing?” he asks.
“Unpacking your bag for you. And I think I should get that sweatsuit into the wash. I saved a light load so I could add your travel clothes into the washer and dryer when you got home. Oh, and I ordered some dinner for you. Steak and potatoes. Not sure if that’s your meal of choice, but figured I’d give it a try. Should be here soon.”
I set his bag down on the bed and sit him next to it. “Do you want to get undressed so I can take those clothes?”
“In front of you?” he asks on a gulp.
I chuckle. “You can if you want, but if you’re shy about your body, you can change in the bathroom and hand me your sweatsuit.”
“I’m not shy, just . . . don’t want to be creepy is all.”
“Remember what I said, Levi.” I place my hand on his shoulder and lean into him. Our noses are mere inches from touching. “This is not your typical boss/assistant relationship. We are going to get intimate with each other.”
“We . . . we are?” he asks as I grip the hem of his sweatshirt and pull it up and over his head. To my surprise, he’s not wearing a shirt under it, and dear God in heaven . . .
Oh fuck me, he’s so hot.
Ughhh, look at his chest.
It’s so thick, so large. So broad. He’s a big man but packed with muscle. His pecs protrude off his chest, flat but muscular. His shoulders and arms are shapely, carved and rock hard like made from stone. And then he has a set of abs I really wasn’t expecting at all. They’re not nearly as defined as what I’ve seen on some of his other teammates, but this man is also a bruiser. He’s dense and built on protein and weight.
And of course because he’s a brawny, sexy man, there’s the lightest smattering of chest hair across his pecs that he keeps well trimmed. I’m far too tempted to drag my fingers over the stubble.
Looking away, I say, “Not that kind of intimate.” I try to laugh it off. Maybe this erotic torture will be harder than I thought. Especially with the ripped body this man’s working with. “Do you need me to take off your sweats too, or can you handle that? I can get on my knees and remove them for you.”
“No,” he says loudly. “I can, uh, I can do that.” But he doesn’t move.
“Well, are you going to remove them?”
“Yup.” He slowly nods but still doesn’t move.
“Okay, but do you realize you say you’re going to remove them, yet you haven’t removed them?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So see where I’m confused. Because if you need help, I have no problem taking your clothes off for you. I can slip my hands right under the waistline and—”
“I got it,” he says quickly and then stands from the bed and pushes his sweats down, leaving him in his black boxer briefs.
He holds the sweats out to me, but my eyes land on the bulge between his legs, the very large bulge.
He’s half hard. He has to be.
If he’s not, then sleeping with him is going to be a no, thank you. If that’s flaccid Posey penis, then it’s not fitting in me, that’s for damn sure.
“I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry about . . .” He gestures toward his crotch.