Page 20 of One Night on the Naughty List

How could any woman reject this man? Something fierce rose in my chest. Fuck Natasha. “I’m glad you’re divorced,” I blurted.

A slow smile spread across his face, making him impossibly handsome. “Same.”

Oh, he was good. So very, very good.

I swallowed. “So what happens now?”

“Well,” he murmured, sliding his hands down my shoulders to my back, “I’m still your boss.”

Heaven help me, he was going to play it dirty. My sex clenched, my body in full agreement with this turn of events. I quirked an eyebrow, trying to play it casual. “So you’re going to boss me?”

He stepped fully into me, already sliding my zipper down, his gaze boring into mine the whole time. “That’s right.” My neckline gaped. I caught it and held the dress to my chest, shyness overcoming me. The desire in his eyes was real, but he’d never seen me undressed, of course. What if he didn’t like what he saw?

He stood back and started undoing the buttons on his coat. “I bet you’ve never been ordered around by a man in a Santa suit before.”

I put a hand over my mouth, holding back laughter.

Humor gleamed in his eyes as he stripped, tossing his coat and pants aside. When he was naked except for a pair of black boxer briefs that hugged his thick, muscular thighs, he rested his fingertips on his hips and gestured toward me with his chin. “Lose the dress.”

“Wh-What?”

“You heard me.” The humor fled his eyes, and suddenly I recognized the look he’d given me when he spun me around in the hallway. It was primal. Possessive.

Maybe a little dangerous.

“Ten seconds,” he said.

I felt my eyes widen. “You’re counting down?”

“Ten.”

My sex throbbed, my panties already wet. I clutched my dress. “What happens when you get to zero?”

“Eight.”

“You skipped nine!”

“Five.”

“Bain!” I moved fast, wriggling a little as I pushed the dress down my hips and let it plop on the floor. Heart racing, I stepped out of it and straightened, thankful I let the saleswoman talk me into buying a matching black silk bra and panties set. The bra was good quality, doing the whole lift-and-separate thing expensive bras were supposed to do.

But I was still self-conscious standing there in my underwear and heels. My cheeks burned, and I knew without looking that my chest was bright red.

If Bain noticed, he didn’t let on. His blue gaze swept me, and a wicked smile played around his mouth. “I’d order you to take off the rest, but I think I’d rather do it myself.”

He was so damn sexy. So heartbreakingly perfect with his tan skin and muscled body. But he was still my boss, and we hadn’t totally crossed the line. Not all the way. There was one last chance to shove the genie back in the bottle. One word from me, and he would, too. We could blame the night on poor judgment—on a long day or too much alcohol.

He’d warned me. Once we did this, nothing was going to be the same.

But I didn’t want it to be.

Blood pumping hard in my veins, I lifted my chin. “So come take off the rest.”

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