Page 18 of Virtuous Vows

“I…” I pause.

“If you lie, I will remove my clothing.”

My mind goes blank. “Sorry, what?”

“For every lie you tell, a piece of clothing will come off,” he says playfully.

“I’m not lying,” I tell him, then he reaches for his jacket. He pulls it off and drops it to the floor. I look around, shocked that he’s actually doing this. No one else is in the store, but I can’t help but think about the cameras, though I know there aren’t any in this room.What would people think?I stop at that thought. I told myself I need to stop caring what people think.

But this is…

… not normal, right?

Damn! It does feel good to be standing in this man’s compelling presence. I could breathe him in all day.

“Do you wear anything from here?” Dawson asks.

“Yes,” I breathe out because I can’t stop looking at him. I can only imagine what’s beneath his fitted white button-up. Surely, he’s only teasing me, like he did that time before he walked out on me. The truth is, I love the products in this store—the material feels amazing on my skin. But I wonder what he’d feel like against it instead.

“Good.” He pauses. “Now, show me.”

A heated flush runs through me, and I immediately shake my head.

I can’t be left heated, flushed, and alone again. I know the last time was a disaster. Can I risk that with this man twice? Considering he’s my boss now.

“If I remember correctly, you were eager to drop to your knees once before. Would you prefer me to remove more items?” Dawson questions, touching his belt.

“No,” I say, and I can taste the lie as it leaves my mouth.

“Lie.” He undoes his belt and holds the end of it in his hands. “Show me,” he demands, nodding to my dress.

“No.”

“Show me,” he says again as he stalks toward me, his belt held loosely in his hand. I don’t even notice I’m backing away from him.

“I-I have to g-go,” I stutter.

“Lie.” His other hand lifts to the buttons on his shirt. Fuck, is this really happening?And I can’t help but watch, transfixed, as his fingers flick open each button. It’s a mistake, a bad idea. But, surely, he’s not going to leave me again like last time if he’s literally the one taking all his clothes off in front of me.

Oh God.

“I can’t do this,” I insist, waving a hand between us. “This is wrong.”

“How?” he asks, continuing to undo his buttons. “We are consenting adults, and there is nothing wrongwith this. Some might even feel satisfied by the fantasy ofdoing their boss.”

A shaky laugh escapes me, and he seems surprised by that. Because him being my boss isn’t my main objection. “You’re with someone.”

“I’m not with anyone,” he states.

“The beautiful brunette you came in with the other day. The cat lady.” I hate that he’s making me spell it out for him because it makes me feel stupid, but I will not be a sidepiece.

Understanding crosses his expression. “Would you like me to cut my contract with her so we can fuck instead?”

“Contract?” Every time I speak to this man, I become more confused.

Honestly, it makes me feel sheltered and stupid.

“Yes, a contract. You are the only person I haven’t asked to sign one yet,” he discloses. And although I have no idea what the fuck that means, he seems more perplexed by it than me right now. “But we should sign one.”

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