Page 57 of Daddies Dark Desires (Forbidden Fantasies)
I do, even if I don’t.
Jonathan’s office is in the corner, and his door is cracked just an inch, swinging open a few more inches so my face can fill the gap when he grunts a “Who’s there?”
His gaze lifts, and I see the predatory gleam in his eyes—the one that always made me uncomfortable as a pre-teen. Then, that polished smile surfaces. It’s phony. A misdirect. A show.
Fake. All of it.
“Miss Blair. You’re far from your cubicle. Something I can help you with?”
I lean against the door jam, letting my hip pop out to exaggerate my curves. “Mr. Chase. I hope I’m not interrupting anythingtooimportant…”
I offer him a slight smile. An innocent tone. Nothing too eager.
He straightens behind his desk, clearly pleased to see me. His gaze drops to where I unbuttoned an extra button on my blouse and the long slope of my legs. “For you? Never. Come on in.”
I step in and replace the door where I found it—not closed but almost. My hips swing as I glide inside and lean against the edge of his desk.
His pupils blow wide, and I’m not sure why his attention grosses me out just as powerfully Trent’s turns me on.
Part of me is surprised he hasn’t burst in here by now.
“So, I’m working on this project, and I need some help. It’s some complicated finance thing, and I remember how you were always the guy for that.”
He preens a little. Men always love compliments.
About their intelligence, the definition of their muscles, the size of their manhood…
I touch one of the papers on his desk, close to his hand but not quite touching him. “If I showed you some of these accounts, would you be able to tell me what I’m missing?”
This angle has me tipping forward an inch, just enough to show off the deep line of my cleavage. I catch him like the pot of honey I am.
“Sure. Hand them over.” I take the folded paper from my skirt waistband and offer it to him. Jonathan seems to like that I’d tucked it there even more than I thought he would. His eyes are practically black from the way his pupils blow wide.
I swing my foot in a way that gives my assets a good sway and jiggle as he forces himself to look at the paper.
“These all seem to be accounts from ten years ago. What case are you working on?”
“Oh my god. This can’t be happening!” Sunny’s voice reaches me from the hallway, close but not too close to Jonathan’s door. “Harper? Oh my god. Harper? Are you up here? No, no, no, no, no.”
“Sunny?” I turn toward the door without sliding off Jonathan’s desk.
“Harper? Shit. Not a virus. Did someone get into my phone? No. Help!”
I turn toward Mr. Chase. “Virus? Are you good with that kind of thing? It’s not something I know how to do.”
He stands and straightens his tie. “A friend of yours?”
“Yes. One of the other interns.”
He nods, like he knows who Sunny is. He’s going to be happily surprised to see her. She’s her own kind of bombshell. Blonde and beautiful and innocent. My opposite but equally appealing.
Jonathan falls for it. His posture shifts to stand taller, poking out his chest. Her hand grabs his forearm, and it’s the opening I need. I swing around his desk and poke through his filing cabinets.
“That’s not right. There’s no way that can be right.” Sunny’s anxiety sounds so real. I will never doubt her skills away from a computer again.
I can hear her loud tears and terror as she drags Jonathan further down the hall, and I dig deeper. It takes longer than I want to find the right drawer, the right folder. When I see the cartel’s name amongst the black, I employ the trick I learned online, tapping the edge against the desk until it splits.
Holy shit. It’s working.
