Page 21 of Punish Me

As if I’ve thought her up, the door opens and in walks Brynlee. She stops in her tracks and says, “Excuse me. I didn’t realize there was a meeting.”

She turns to leave, and damn, that ass!

Fuck me hard! I haven’t seen her all day. My dick jerks hard at the two-toned grey and white ribbed knit dress that clings to every fucking curve in sight. The dress can easily be off-the-shoulder, but she has it pulled up to the edge of her shoulders to maintain an edgy, professional look.

Her grey heels boost her height and sensually outline her calves making her ass high like a donkey’s. An ass that I want to ride.

Clearing his throat, Rick says, “Ms. St. Clair, this is a meeting I’m sure your input would be invaluable in.”

“Oh?” she asks, looking from Rick to me.

“Yes. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Charles?”

That bastard.

All eyes turn to me, and I clear my throat, nod, and say, “Of course.”

She walks slowly back into the room, and I swivel my gaze to Rick. “Why don’t you give her your seat?” I growl.

He stands, looks nervously away, and extends his hand to his chair, which Brynlee promptly takes. Her scent, warmth, and proximity make me lose concentration, and I have no idea why we’re in this fucking meeting anymore.

Rick takes the opportunity to apprise her of what’s happening, but every time he veers off course, Greyson, Andre Baxter, Dave Wolf, and Austin steer him back on course. They stick to the facts and reserve their biased opinions, unlike asshole-Rick.

I’m thankful they’re there because I don’t have it in me to stay focused enough to clarify anything or check Rick’s disloyal ass.

All I can do is sit foolishly beside her and inhale her scent while I try to play it calm and cool with one ankle crossed over my knee and my finger resting under my nose and over my top lip. I’m anything but calm and cool on the inside, though.

Why the hell does this woman get to me the way she does? She’s not even thinking about me the way that I’m thinking of her. After all, didn’t she say to leave the past in the past? How can I do that when I’m with her every day unless I’m out of town?

Truthfully, that’s the only reason I haven’t delegated more responsibilities to others because I’m always trying to escape her presence. That attitude is what has me in my current state. Dreaming about this damn succubus day and night has me restless, grumpy, and horny.

“Ambrose?” Alessandro says, smirking at me.

“Yes?”

“The numbers. We’re waiting.”

I glance at Austin, who dims the lights, turns on the overhead screen, and launches into his spiel about costs, opportunities, and materials. When he finishes, he provides the numbers and a breakdown of every area. After the presentation, he closes the screen and turns the lights back up.

“Any questions?”

“I think the numbers are fair,” Mitch says.

“More than fair,” Marco mutters.

“May we have a moment to speak with our clients?” Dave speaks up.

I nod and stand, and Austin, Brynlee, and Rick follow me out of the conference room.

“May I have a word with you alone, please?” Brynlee asks, nodding her head at a small conference room.

Wordlessly, I follow her inside, closing the door behind us.

“What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“You have a meeting to start a thirty-two-million-dollar project without consulting me or any of the executive team? If I hadn’t accidentally walked into the room, when would I have found out, Ambrose? Huh?”

---