Page 11 of Playing with the Boss

FIVE

Lisa

The air is noticeably hotter the further into the place we go. Delaney’s is a staple among the young, single executives. It upholds an air of sophistication thanks to the heritage building that house the establishment, yet anybody who’s a regular here knows what kind of debauchery goes on at the end of the night once the drinks have flowed for a few good hours. Rolled timber edges the bar; the walls painted a regal shade of emerald.

Still. I wasn’t about to agree to a drink in the hotel bar when the sheer proximity would make it easy for Mason to work his charm and coax me back to his room.

Because he would have. Without a doubt.

And I would have gone, too.

The heartbeat in my ears matches the deep bass as I search the room for a free table. Two women in midi skirts and bralettes step toward the bar to reveal empty seats at a table along the side wall. Mason’s hand rests on my shoulder as he tucks me into his side and directs us toward them. I swallow nervously, my mouth suddenly dry when I look up at him and catch sight of the ink peeking out from his chest, perfectly coiled around the very base of his throat. The sight of his bare torso, tattooed and chiseled to perfection took my breath away at the hotel. I knew his skin wasn’t bare from the glimpse I had of his forearms this morning, but seeing him stand there in nothing but his boxer briefs?

Even a blind woman would have sensed the flawlessness that stood before her.

“You okay?” He misinterprets my silence when I remain silent, gawking at him.

“Fine.” Except for the dire need to unwrap this package and savor in every inch of the skillfully decorated sculpture that is his body.

“Would you like to choose our order?” I opt for polite and cordial as I slide onto a wooden seat adjacent to him.

He hooks a foot around the leg of my chair and drags it closer. “Later.”

I rest my palms on the table to steady myself while my seat jerks toward him.

His eyes are hooded, his appraisal obvious as he roams his gaze the length of me. “How the fuck do you manage to make nine-to-five look so goddamn sexy?”

“I really don’t know.” But I’m willing to bet it’s the same way he makes a suit look like a goddamn erotic masterpiece.

“So.” I lean forward, elbows on the table to accentuate my assets. “What do I have to do to stay employed?” I might not be ready to spread my legs to save my career, but I’m not above using my feminine wiles to get ahead.

His stance relaxes; his arm slung casually over the empty chair on his other side. “Prove your outstanding sales skills to me.”

I reach out and spin a coaster on the tabletop beneath my fingertip. “How would you like me to do that?”

Mason leans a little to one side and produces his wallet. He slides a single bill out onto the table and then palms it across to me while he pockets the leather billfold again.

“I want you to take this twenty and bring me back one hundred.”

“You want me to hustle?” I lift an eyebrow.

“I want you to barter, trade, or scheme. I want you to do whatever it takes to quintuple my investment.”

“Whatever it takes?” I challenge, leaning forward a little to ensure the top of my breasts are as full as possible.

His gaze drops to the desired location. “Within reason. Do that, and not only will I make sure you aren’t in the firing line, but I’ll suggest you receive a pay rise that adequately recognizes your exceptional role in keeping the company afloat.”

This is going to be a breeze. I give Mason a confident smile and slide the bill from the table as I rise to my feet. All my fears about going along with this, melt away. I can do this. I can totally do this.

“One more thing, Lisa.”

A shiver ripples the length of my spine at the sound of my name off his tongue. “Yes?”

“You have one hour.”

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