Page 30 of One Rule

That we never got a chance to talk after doesn’t help, either.

Lionel was the first one to go after dessert, jumping at the chance to take Beatrice home as she needed to get back and study. She’s a nursing student, working toward becoming a pediatric RN, and he wants her even if he’s holding back for some unknown reason.

“Ms. Armas did huff that their meeting could be rescheduled for later in the afternoon, but it seems he turned her down. She also reiterated a need for help in choosing her final project.”

“Okay.”I’ll allow it next week. “Keep everyone out of our floor until Monday unless I’m there, no excuse. I’ll be there soon.”

“Understood, Mr. Royce.”

Hanging up, I sit back and watch her maneuver through traffic. She has a little bit of a lead foot. Something I’m guilty of myself, but where I’m a hot head, Liliana is careful in her madness and it takes her those ten minutes exactly to arrive and slip into her personal parking space beside mine. Her rose gold Mercedes Benz shuts off and the driver door opens revealing a pair of stilettos that have me biting my bottom lip.

It's a small obsession I’ve noticed as of late from her.

Not that she didn’t wearplease bend me overheels before, but these latest additions are quite a punishment for my cock. I want to have her greet me at the door to our home while wearing nothing but those shoes. I want to feel the metal buckles dig into the skin of my back and sides as I fuck her into the mattress of our bed.

Rebel’s door closes on the screen and a second later she’s out of my line of sight until I switch to the garage’s security system. I follow her from the elevator up to our floor and then inside her office where she settles in while quickly setting up the computer system behind her. On the large monitor, there’s a fast sequence of letters and symbols running and Liliana watches the screen with interest, head tilted to the side, and more so when a certain code appears and everything freezes.

She’s quick to attack her keyboard, fingers flying across but I can’t quite catch the expression on her face until she turns. The system is rebooting and her brows are furrowed, lips thinned right before she sayswhat the fuckand I’m out the door and reaching my car minutes after.

* * *

“Bueno Dias, Ms. Armas,”I say from her doorway, and it’s the first time I think I’ve truly caught her off guard. Since clocking in, her attention’s been on the monitors, pinging back and forth while chewing on her cherry pink, bottom lip. This morning they’re shiny with her favorite lip gloss—begging to be bitten.

At the sound of my voice, her eyes dart up and my favorite reaction crests over her. Liliana shivers for me, it’s small and almost indiscernible, but there isn’t a single thing about this woman that I’m not attuned to. I can make out the smallest change or shift, and enjoy the way her nipples tighten behind the thin fabric of her bra.

She doesn’t like padded coverage.

She chooses pretty and delicate with touches of sheerness and they all drive me wild.

I can make out the tiny flower patterns on this one behind one of my favorite looks on her, a delicate polka dot wrap dress with a belt around her waist to accentuate her curves. It has a little frill, ends right above her knees, and the shoes on her feet with the provocative hardware that I need to see up close.

“Stand up, rebel.”

“W-what?”

“Stand. Up.”

“Okay.” Slowly, she pushes away from her desk and walks around it without me having to further prompt. Rebel stops with her ass perched against the edge, hands on either side of her while I take a moment to get my fill. From her blood-red painted toes to her long legs and then the peak of cleavage, this woman is the physical definition of feminine beauty, but it’s her heart that makes her perfect.

Liliana loves hard. Sometimes more than she should.

“Come here.”

“Micah, what’s going on?” Apart from the way she looks at me, the attraction she fights hard not to show, there’s a tightness around her eyes I don’t like. Something is stressing her. “Did something happen?”

“No.” And because I need her just as much, I close the distance between us and yank her to me by the belt around her waist before wrapping my arms around her much smaller frame. At first, she’s surprised, emitting a small squeal that I find utterly adorable, before relaxing in my hold. To an outsider, this is an innocent hug between friends—I’ve never hidden just how close our families are—but to me, it’s taking care of what’s mine. “This is because you need it, sweetheart.”

“How did you know?” It’s muffled by my shirt, unconsciously she’s nuzzling my chest but I don’t call her out on it.

“Because I stalk your every move.” It’s the truth, but she finds it funny and snorts before smacking my arm. “Don’t believe me?”

“Sure.” A slim finger pokes my stomach making me jump, but I don’t release her yet. Instead, I flex my right hand over ribs and begin to tap a random rhythm. The threat of retaliation is there and she knows it. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then apologize, rebel.”

“Nothing to…okay! Okay!” Breathless giggle, she squirms against me while my fingers press in a little deeper. “I’m sorry. There.”

“Try being a little nicer.”

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