Page 12 of The Billionaire Submissive
Dear God. A corset. Stockings. If she pulls a crop out of her bag I’m going to pass out when my dick explodes.
He jammed a finger at the intercom and barked, “Coffee,” at his secretary.
“Evidently not.” Lilly laughed softly, a deep velvety purr making him quiver in his chair. “Too bad. You’re going to need all your wits about you for this contract negotiation.”
Ah, so that’s her game. She deliberately wore this outrageously sexy outfit to make sure she gets what she wants.
With a glare, he retorted, “It’s not going to work.”
Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him innocently. “What’s not going to work?”
“This.” He waved a hand at her and averted his gaze, sure he blushed like a virgin. Which only made his cheeks burn hotter. “Some sexy clothes aren’t going to make me lose my head and give you what you want.”
The door opened and Miss Wruthers scurried in with a cup of coffee. Wide eyed, she froze at the corner of his desk, her gaze flickering between them both.
Lilly lounged in her chair in a sexy drape of negligent ease that made him want to leap up and pace frantically again. Or better yet, maybe he’d just bury his face in her cleavage. “You’re going to give me exactly what I want, Mr. Morgan, and it’s not going to be because of my clothes.”
Miss Wruthers made a low, desperate sound like a bleat and plopped the cup on the desk hard enough some of it sloshed out onto the cherry top. She let out another frantic cry and ran around the desk to the filing cabinet on the other side of the room, rummaging around loudly in search of something to mop up the stain.
Lilly bent down again, and he swore a button of her blouse must have popped open because he saw even more cleavage this time. The brown of her aureoles peeked above the corset. “Don’t worry, Miss Wruthers, I have a napkin right here. I’m such a slob I always carry around some wipes to clean up after myself.”
She rose up enough to blot the spilled coffee, giving him a wink that made him think about why she might have napkins and wipes stowed in her bag. Other messes she might find necessary to clean. He very nearly groaned out loud.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Morgan.” Miss Wruthers wrung her hands. “Let me get you another cup.”
He forced himself to turn his head and look at her. Anything to get his gaze off Lilly before he embarrassed himself. “It’s all right, Miss Wruthers.” He even managed a smile, though it was stiff and hurt his face. “This cup is fine, though I’m sure Miss Harrison would like a cup too.”
“Of course. How do you like your coffee, ma’am?”
Lilly handed her the wet napkin. “Strong and stout with just a splash of cream to soften the bite.”
Damn it, she even made coffee sound wicked.
“Right away.”
They waited in silence for the promised cup. Lilly watched him with a smile hovering on her luscious lips, while he was afraid he probably looked at her like a poisonous viper was ready to devour him. He drummed his fingers on the desk, which made her lips curve even more. So he picked up the cup and took a big drink, practically spluttering it all over himself when he burned all the taste buds off the top of his tongue.Great. Just what I needed. A sore tongue. If I was going to have a sore tongue, I thought it’d be because…
He slammed the door shut, locked it and mentally threw away the key.
“Here’s your cup, ma’am.” His secretary practically thrust the cup into Lilly’s hands and then fled to the door. “If you need anything else, just ring, sir.”
He waited until the door closed. Then he took another drink of the coffee, carefully this time so he didn’t fry his whole mouth. Another sip. Determined to let her speak first, he refused to even look at her. Even when she bent down to pull something out of her bag again.
“I took the liberty of making a few adjustments to both contracts after consulting with my personal attorney last night. I’ve written in my requirements and struck out a few clauses that I don’t agree to. Where should we start, Mr. Morgan?”
He cleared his throat and picked up his favorite pen. His father had given it to him upon his college graduation and he’d carried it ever since. The solid weight of the fountain pen helped him regain his sense of balance and purpose. “Let’s begin with the stained glass commission.”I’ll be on solid ground there.
She passed the papers to him and sipped her coffee while he scanned through her adjustments. For the most part, she’d accepted his contract, which was pretty standard industry wide promising payment for an art project. She would provide detailed designs within thirty days in writing, and he’d have to approve them, again in writing, before she would begin work to protect herself in the end if he decided he hated the artwork. He would cover the costs of materials and extra labor, including additional workshop space. He nodded, all smart adjustments now that he understood more about her shop’s small setup. She’d also modified the due date to clarify there’d be no penalties incurred but that she’d target the project completion for Christmas, assuming the design and material timetables were all approved on schedule.
After learning more about the amount of work involved, he was surprised she didn’t add a few additional zeroes to the flat sum of fifty thousand dollars he’d promised above and beyond the cost of materials and labor she’d have to hire out. But she knew her business, and if she was happy with the amount, so be it. She’d be making considerably more as his Mistress anyway.
He initialed each of the additions and then passed his favorite pen to her for her to add her signature.
With a flourish, she signed her name and then passed the pen back to him. Her fingers touched his and he felt the searing contact all the way down to his cock.
“And now the more private contract.” She reached down again and pulled out the smaller stack of papers. “Before I show you the changes I made to your contract, I thought I’d show you the contract I typically offer my clients.”
His palms were sweating enough that the paper stuck to his skin. He spread the two pages—only two!—out before him and began to read, determined to read the whole thing before he spared a glance at her. Fully aware she would be watching and judging his reaction, he schooled his face to the calm, detached businessman’s mask he typically wore every single moment, day in and day out, until he wanted to rip out his own eyes and roar at the top of his lungs.
