Page 98 of Possession

Climbing up the steps toward my office.

And she looks fucking gorgeous.

She’s wearing one of my favorite red dresses that tastefully skims her body, ends right above her knees, and flatters her rich skin tone. She looks even better in the dress than she used tobecause her body has several more lush curves than it did due to carrying our son, and those curves are in all the right places.

Fuck me.

Since the doctor has given us the all-clear, she’s been very determined to seduce the hell out of me at every turn, and I can see that tonight she’s on a mission. I’m a lucky motherfucker, but tonight is just bad timing.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, yourself, Mr. Middleton.”

“Where’s Deuce?”

“Home with the baby nurse.” She cocks her head to the side. “Obviously.”

“Right, that was silly of me to ask.”

She ignores my blunder and spins around on one of her heels, showcasing how good she looks.

“You like?”

“I love.”

A staff member walks by my open office door, taking a peep inside, admiring Megan’s silhouette. Prettier than any picture she’s ever drawn.

“Close the door,” I tell her. “Then bring your pretty ass over here.”

She smirks. “Yes, sir.”

Megan walks seductively over to the door, carefully locking it as my dick hardens beneath my zipper. Her ass has a special jiggle that speaks to my soul as if it’s only talking to me.

Baiting me.

Driving me to a delicious madness.

Does she not have any underwear on?

I covertly check the time and am expecting Oliver to arrive in about ten minutes. Shit. I had plans to show him around personally, then accidentally bump into Lena (on purpose), but all that’s just been shot to hell when Megan straddles my lap,and I discover, just as I’d hoped, she’s pantiless, wet and ready for me to give her the fuck of her life.

Chapter 33

The One In Blue

LENA

“Ouch!” The sharp sting of hot oil on my skin snaps me out of my thoughts as I burn the side of my palm on the fryer. I mutter a curse under my breath, quickly moving to the sink to run cold water over the tender spot. The stream feels like tiny needles against the burn, but I welcome the sensation—anything to keep me grounded.

My mind’s been buzzing ever since my conversation with Hunter. The idea of revamping the menu at Blue Whiskey is exhilarating, a chance to prove myself and bring something fresh to the table. This place is no Zagat-rated steakhouse, sure, but I know I can do better than wings and fries.

“You alright?” Gage’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I say, waving him off as I inspect my reddened palm. “Just not paying attention. What’s up?”

“Some dude at Table 21 has questions about the food.”

“Questions?” My tone drips with irritation as I dry my hand.

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