Page 56 of Texting the CEO's Obsession
We spring apart when a knock sounds on the door, seconds away from being caught when Sloane walks right in without waiting for permission. Riley’s lips are red and kissed raw, and she’s blushing up a storm, but I glare furiously as Sloane saunters into the room, perfume clogging my nostrils.
Riley clears her throat, not meeting my eyes as she gathers her laptop and notepad.
“I’ll leave the files that you wanted to review on your desk!” she says, a hair too loud and far too normal to be anything but forced. “Let me know if you have any questions, Mr. D’Amico.”
She slips out of the room before I even have a chance to scowl at hearing her call me that, even if I know it’s necessary.
Her nerves over getting caught are understandable, but I would never let anything happen to her. I want her to know that as much as I want everyone else to know. The territorial part of me would be thrilled if Sloane had walked in while I still had Riley on her knees begging for me, just to watch her face pale when she realized who Riley belongs to, but I know Riley would be mortified.
It’s best left to fantasy, even if I wish I could mark her as mine for everyone to see.
I’m growing steadily more possessive of her by the day, territorial enough that I want to snap my teeth at Sloane like a dog for daring to intrude.
Sloane turns a smarmy smile toward me, red-painted lips curving upwards as she takes a seat in the chair Riley was in just minutes ago.
“Mr. D’Amico?—”
“Get up,” I snap, the protective part of me that wants to ream Sloane for every horrible thing she’s ever done to Riley preening at the way she jumps straight out of the chair like it electrocuted her. “You’re not going to be here long enough to get comfortable.”
She laughs awkwardly, her smile straining. “Sir?”
It’s almost funny how much I hate hearing that word from her mouth when hearing it from Riley makes me melt.
I pluck a stack of papers out of the stack of files to my left and toss it onto the table in front of her. “This is the single worst risk analysis that’s ever crossed my desk,” I say harshly, sneering at both her and the papers. I hold a hand up to stop her when she opens her mouth. “I’m not interested in excuses. Redo it by the end of the day.Properlythis time.”
Sloane blusters, her face going an unattractive shade of red beneath her heavy makeup.
“Sir, this isn’t even my work. Tracy must have accidentally?—”
“I said I wasn’t interested in excuses,” I cut her off coldly, anger bubbling in my gut at the shameless attempt to push the blame onto her colleagues. “This isn’t a discussion, Sloane. I tell you what to do, and you say yes. Understood?”
The way her emotions flit across her face is laughably pathetic, fury slipping into embarrassment before a spark of curiosity lights in her blue eyes. I grit my teeth against a groan when sheprops her hip against the conference table and peers down at me with a sad attempt at a sultry smile.
“I understand,sir,” she purrs, somehow managing to miss the way I cringe in disgust. “I’ll always say yes to whatever you ask.”
I glare at her coolly, not hiding the annoyed sneer that curls my lip. She doesn’t seem deterred by it, instead leaning forward to push her tits halfway out of her shirt as she places one palm on the glossy top of the conference table.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s got you so stressed?” she murmurs, tapping her nails on the table and tilting her head to the side invitingly. “Maybe you just need a massage, huh? I’m good with my hands, sir. I’msureyou remember.”
Disgust rolls in my gut even as the blurry memory of the single, unfortunate time I fucked her rolls around in my head. She wasbarelyadequate, and the only reason I hadn’t kicked her out was because I hadn’t fucked anyone in months. I didn’t find out she was my employee until months afterward, and I’ve regretted that night more and more with every pathetic pass she makes at me. Instead of laying into her and saying all that out loud like I want to, I simply push my chair further away from her and arch my brow in disdain.
“Do you have a resume printed?” I ask, disgust rolling off my tongue along with my words.
Sloane laughs like I made a joke, the sound tapering off when I blink, unamused. She stutters out a few syllables before managing a confused, “What?”
I smile coldly at her, all ice and teeth.
“If you keep up with this pathetic, disgusting act, you’re going to be looking for a new job,” I drawl, relishing in the look of horror that crosses her features.
Not only will she be out of a job, but she’ll be shit out of luck finding a new one too. My name holds too much weight to let Sloane worm her way into another firm with her father’s connections. I’ll drive her career straight into the grave if she lays so much as afingeron me.
She blusters in fury, huffing out a laugh full of rage and embarrassment as she snaps upright.
“It’ll be done by five, Mr. D’Amico,” she snips, glaring down her nose at me.
“You’lldo it by five,” I clarify sharply with a raised brow. “Ensure you do your own work, Sloane, or I’ll be taking every mistake I find in the analysis department directly out of your paycheck.”
She looks spitting mad when she snatches the paperwork off the desk and storms out without answering me. A cloud of her perfume lingers after she slams the door, and I scowl at the empty air.
