Page 20 of Forbidden Mistress

“Yeah, I don’t know if any job is worth that level of control in my life,” I huff. Even if this is the easiest and the most well-paid job I’ve ever had, it can’t be worth that, can it?

I can see his deep brown eyes narrow behind his mask. “Those are my terms, and they’re non-negotiable.”

I clamp my mouth shut and stare over his shoulder at the women dancing in the far distance. Music thumps in the background, causing the walls to vibrate. I consider his terms. This is a cushy job—a life-changing one that can dig me out of the financial hole I’ve been at the bottom of, and quickly, if I’m smart. I’d be an idiot to walk away from that. It’s not like I’ve been dating anyone anyway.

“For how long?” I ask, without meeting his gaze.

He hesitates. “I’ll be in town for three months to negotiate a business contract. After that, our arrangement is done.”

Three months. I can make some cash, pay off my bills, save up, and that’ll give me a little cushion while I hunt for another job.

I lift my chin and straighten my spine. “If I’m giving you exclusivity, then that’ll cost you, obviously.”

I might be desperate for the money, but he doesn’t know that.

He widens his stance. “Negotiating, are we?”

I shrug one shoulder. “You want something I’ve got—my purity.”

Neither of us is under any illusion that I’m a virgin—but while I’m working for him, he wants me unsullied by other men. Cool. I can do that. But he’ll have to show me the money.

He nods once. “Give me a number.”

“Fifteen hundred more a month.”

Without hesitation, he drops his arms and says, “Done.”

I blink at him, mind already spinning a calculation of numbers, four hundred dollars per hour at ten hours per week at approximately twelve to fourteen weeks with an additional forty-five hundred… Whoa. That’s upwards of sixty thousand dollars for three months.

I peer at him, wondering about the speed with which he agreed. Maybe I should have asked for more. Damn.

I push out a breath. “Okay. So then, you should send me the updated offer via email. I obviously need that in writing—the lawyer in you should appreciate that. Were there any other hidden stipulations you’re planning to spring on me? Because depending on what they are, those will cost you, too.”

I can almost feel his amusement on the other side of that mask, but his body language doesn’t change at all. “You’ll receive written notice of this new agreement within twenty-four hours.”

I lift my arms awkwardly, then let them fall back at my sides, not sure what to say now. “Okay, then, uh, goodnight, I guess.” And without even waiting for his response, I turn on my heel and grab my phone from the phone check area. Outside, the car’s already waiting for me.

“Ms. Fitzgerald,” Andrew says with a smile, standing beside the open car door.

“Hey, Andrew,” I reply. “Just call me Cassie.”

He nods once as I slip into the backseat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once I’m back at Hill House, I sneak up to my room and shut the door. Thankfully, I have the room to myself because Haley is working and Avery’s at the library working late on a project. I plan to be fast asleep by the time they get back.

I love my roomies, but I’m just so exhausted, I’d rather decompress instead of relaying every sordid detail of tonight’s events. Tomorrow, maybe. Stripping off my dress,and underwear, I hop into a quick hot shower, then put on my pajama set—little shorts and a tank top that has “woke up like this” emblazoned across the chest.

As I lie in bed staring up at the ceiling, I can’t stop thinking about Hart. In my mind’s eye, I can see him approaching Willow, but in my head it’s me. Everything he did to her, he’s doing to me. Sliding his hand up my bare thigh, his fingertips brushing against the folds of my center. I tremble a bit, and I realize my hand has crept down my pajama bottoms, under my panties. The pressure between my thighs that has been building for hours is only provided a small degree of relief from the pressure of my own fingers.

As I reconstruct the details of his masked face, the hills and valleys of his incredibly muscular body, I apply a little more pressure to my clit. Rubbing in a circular motion, I imagine his fingers inside me, pumping in and out, in and out. My own fingers slip inside my channel, and I match the pace and pressure that Hart used on Willow. I’m so wet, it’s hard to maintain traction, but within seconds, electricity begins building in my veins.

I imagine his eyes locked on mine, and I come so hard, my toes curl. That delicious energy pumps through my body, heat spreading through me, snatching my breath away. I arch into my own hand, drawing out the intense sensation.

When the orgasm finally abates, I go and clean up, then get back into bed. I have a feeling I’m going to end up rubbing one out every night before work. Otherwise, it’s inevitable that I’m eventually going to climb Hart like a fucking tree.

Chapter 8

Little Fawn

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