Page 4 of Let Me Say It Again

I stuck my tongue in my cheek. “That would make it mighty hard to French kiss, don’t you think? And that would be a real shame because I’ve been told I’m such a skilled kisser that I should give lessons.”

She laughed so hard she placed her hands on her knees as she bent over. Waving a hand in the air, she closed her eyes and continued laughing. “Sorry, it’s just that I can’t imagine that being true.”

Oh, it’s true. Come over here, sit on my lap, and I’ll prove it to you.“You know what I think is funny? The fact that you’ve imagined me kissing women.” I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the desk. “Or tell me, Jade, is it you who you imagine me kissing?”

She stopped laughing and stood up straight. Ramrod straight. So much so that I could see her taut nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra.Good Lord.My cock twitched.Down boy, she’s not ours.Much to my immense displeasure.

“You wish.”

“I don’t wish. I know,” I replied coolly, leaning back again.

She didn’t respond, only swallowed. That confirmed that—she had thought about me kissing her before. I would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t, frankly. Anyone with two eyes could see we had chemistry. Had this been the sort of chemistry they’d taught in science class, by the way, maybe I would’ve been inclined to pay more attention.

I could go ninety rounds with this woman, but it was still a workday, and we were still employer and employee. So, I nudged my chin toward the door. “Go home and change. Then come back when you’re dressed in something less”—I searched for the right word—“wrinkled.”

That wasn’t what I wanted in the least, but I couldn’t focus knowing she was walking around the office dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

“You need me here, though,” she argued, giving me a perplexed look.

She was right. I did need her. I needed her to shut the hell up and let me kiss her breathless. I needed her to see that my brother had been all wrong for her, that she had been with the wrong brother back then.

I wet my lips. “Wrong. I need my assistant not to look like she was just fucked.” I knew it was harsh, but I also knew it’d make her leave without saying another word. I needed that for my own sake because seeing her like that just pissed me off. I waved my hand toward the door and looked down, dismissingher. “I have work to do. You know the way out,” I told her, insistence lacing my voice.

She didn’t respond—just as I’d suspected—so I barely glanced up, only enough to see that she was already at the door, her hand on the handle. “Isn’t your dinner party tonight? The one where you’re supposed to schmooze with the possible investor?”

“Yes.”

Opening the door, she said over her shoulder, “Have fun at your party, Mr. Lyons.”

That mister crap really pissed me off. Why couldn’t she just call me Red? I already knew the answer to that question—because she was a giant thorn in my side, and she enjoyed it too goddamn much.

Chapter Three

Reddington

The caterers weredoing an excellent job. The music was good. Every one of my fifty guests were mixing and mingling nicely. I really couldn’t complain. Especially since the reason why I’d agreed to host this dinner party when my adviser had suggested it just walked in a few minutes ago and seemed to be comfortable already, nursing a drink from the bartender.

Mark Cavallo. Thirty-six years old. Brooklyn born and raised. Tech genius. And, most importantly, a self-made billionaire, who had recently retired and was looking to make a few key investments.

At his side was Sherrilyn Cavallo. Former beauty queen.

The pair seemed in good spirits, walking over to me.

“Red, excellent party,” Mark noted. “It all starts with the top shelf,” he joked and tossed his head back, finishing whatever poison filled his glass.

Sherrilyn smiled, keeping a firm grasp on her drink. “Thank you for having us.” It was immediately apparent she was his better half in every way, being smooth to his blunt.

I nodded and waved a server over to keep Mark fully hydrated. “It’s my pleasure.”

“Red, we should talk business, but I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy myself a little too much tonight,” he said, taking another hearty swig of his second drink.

“Where’s your wife? I’d love to meet her,” Sherrilyn said, as demure as you’d imagine the wife of a billionaire would be.

Where in the world did that question come from, though? Left field, that was where. I looked around and swallowed hard. A wife? That was one of the few things I didn’t have in my life. My expression never changed, though, making sure she couldn’t see how her question made me do a double take. “I’m not married.” And this better not be relevant to my talks with Mark.

Clacking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he intoned, “Red, I thought you were a smart man. Smart men never stay single long. Family is the most important accomplishment a man can have.”

This time I was the one busy gulping my drink. Anything to avoid addressing his archaic view. Not everyone wanted a family. And even if they did, not everyone was fortunate to have one. We all couldn’t find ourselves our own Sherrilyn—someone to balance us out.

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