Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Grab it and expose that sexy neck of hers that she somehow always manages to cover up the evidence of the previous night’s hickeys.
Oh, double fuck.
I love when she yanks mine during my sucking.
I love that shit so much I damn near come like I’m back in my early hundreds.
The hair pulling thoughts have me slyly lowering one hand to my lap to adjust my dick at the same time I deny, “I’m not leering at you.”
Her green gaze lifts just enough to shoot me a sardonic expression.
“I’m…observing.”
“You’re ogling.”
“I’m…,” running out of counters occurs so quickly that I verbally flounder, “looking at you longingly.”
“Which is the definition of the word leering, Mr. Draak.”
The twitch of my cock against my palm is so unnecessary.
I already have enough trouble concentrating on things without thinking about how sexy it sounds when she uses the title.
Mother of Dragons, how fucking sexy would it be to hear her call me “sir”?
Very.
Good to know we’re on the same page yet again.
Folding my hands together in my lap, I politely inquire, “Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Pennington?”
Draak.
Unfortunately, not yet.
Soon.
I don’t know about that.
Tomorrow.
And we’re back to separate fucking manuals.
“I do not need your assistance, however,” the woman I can’t wait to bond with slowly starts while leaning back in her seat, “there is something I would like to show you.”
It only takes a few short strides to arrive at her side.
“As you know, company policy requires any complaint you file to be signed and dated with your name.”
“Yes. This is done so that in cases where someone is being accused of something—nepotism, sexism, racism, pretty much any ism—you have the opportunity to face your accuser. Signing your statement is a technique used to prevent false allegations from occurring.”
“Correct. Now, look at these four documents to the left,” she taps her index on the bottom of the sheet, “and then these four on the right.” The action is repeated on the opposite side. “Tell me what you see.”
One hand plants itself on the back of her chair to cleverly touch her without overstepping work boundaries. “The same name.”
“Obviously, Mr. Draak. What do you notice about the signatures?”
“They’re the same as well.”
“Except that they aren’t,” she swiftly corrects, dragging one from each pile. “When you do a comparison side by side, you notice slight differences. See the longer loop here in the y on this form?” A tap to the sheet on the left is delivered “And the exaggerated h?” The digit moves over to the mentioned letter. “And the line through the zero in the date?” Her instructing hand switches to the document on the right. “All of those unique details are missing from these complaint forms.”
“Perhaps she was just tired.”
“The files on the left are from her hiring form and yearly evaluations, taken at different parts of the day. They’re all the same. These on the right were all from the last two months, signed and submitted around the same hour.”
An unsettling feeling forces me to grunt my suspicion.
“She also continues to insist that she did not sign the forms on the right.”
“Isn’t there a chance she could be lying? Trying to backpedal to save her job?”
“There are certain body language behaviors an uncoached person presents when they’re lying such as the rate at which they blink, and the verbal stalling techniques used to buy the mind time to create sensible lies versus truthful information. She displayed none of them.”
The sickening feeling deepens.
“All the forms on the right were also filed in the HR department by someone named Zuriel Frankford. I’d like to speak with him.”
“Let me have Tyana summon him here.”
“Alone, Mr. Draak.”
Refraining from an eye roll requires more effort than it should. “Fine. I will have my assistant send him to your office.”
She presents me with a sweeter smirk. “Thank you.”
The sight alone threatens to swell my shaft, yet when she undoes the button to her powder blue suit jacket revealing a vest style under top that accentuates her voluptuous chest, there’s no stopping the awkward walk that must occur in order to hide my hunger.
Great Ones, have mercy.
I can’t wait to bury my face between those.
Drag my nose around her nipples.
Trap one then the other with my teeth.
Bite.
Suck.
Lick.
Repeat.
Now.
We can’t do that shit now. We’re in the fucking office.
And?
And she won’t let me call her Cami while we’re here, I highly doubt she’s gonna let me mouth bang her tits, either.
Try.
Be quiet. I’m working.
Not.
Placing a call on speaker occurs at the same time I lean against the edge of my desk, wanting as much as needing to keep my eyes on her.
First, for her safety—I mean I was attacked in this very office on Monday morning—and second, because I feel like if I look away for too long Fate might decide to take her from me.