Page 47 of Degrees of Control

He sighed. As much as he’d kill to see Charlotte in garters, he didn’t want to bankrupt her with non-elasticized panties. He was on the verge of telling her not to bother when an idea struck. He made a couple of quick phone calls and emailed her back.

Try Scantily Clad down on the corner of Bridge and Hammond.

Feeling energized, he returned to his charts with a grin. An hour flew past and his phone rang. He smirked down at her name, wondering if he could get her to send him a picture and use it as her contact photo. “Hey, Blue-Eyes.”

“Hi,Mr. Hunter,” she hissed.

“I know you’re pissed off but saying that still turns me on.”

“Are you even at work? Never mind, do you have any idea why Scantily Clad is trying to sell me a truckload of French underwear for thirty dollars?”

“Maybe there’s a sale on?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re full of shit.”

James grinned and rotated one-hundred-eighty degrees in his chair. “Find anything pretty?”

“This is so bourgeois of you, Hunter. I’m not some skanky peasant you can play X-rated dress-ups with.”

“That’s funny, Blue-Eyes, I thought I knew all your fantasies but if you want to play Prince Charming and farmer’s daughter…?”

“Can you stop being a pervert for like, five seconds?”

“Not really.”

“I’m not taking this underwear, you know. I can’t.”

James might have known her pride wouldn’t let her accept gifts from him, which was bullshit. She wasn’t his mistress or his secretary. She was his…well, it didn’t matter what she was, point was buying her lingerie didn’t mean jack.

“I’m following your exact advice, Charlotte. You told me, ‘buy women nice gifts and it’ll be easy to get your needs accommodated’.”

“Oh, are you referring to yourpanty fetish?”

James looked around, half expecting his staff to have their ears pressed against the glass. “It’s not afetish.”

Charlotte giggled—she had the cutest fucking laugh. James rubbed his forehead, irritated by his own sappy thoughts. “Just let me do this for you. You have assets, I have resources. I’m helping you to help me. It’s a win-win.”

“It’s so hot when you talk like The Wolf of Wall Street, James. That guy wasn’t a huge arsehole or anything.”

“Be as sarcastic as you want, I’m buying you that lingerie, no strings attached.”

“Actually, there are several strings attached.”

James shut his eyes. It would be so easy to bail on work, take Charlotte back to the hotel and spend the whole day peeling her out of stockings and silk. He opened his mouth to suggest just that and felt a stabbing pain in his right temple. If the underwear itself made her feel cheap, another midday fuck in a hotel wouldn’t help. He sighed. “Please don’t torture me. Just let me do this for you, as a…person who wants to fuck you senseless while you’re wearing a garter belt.”

Jesus Christ, why couldn’t I say “friend?”

Charlotte’s gentle laughter filtered through the phone. “Fine, Mr. Hunter, doll me up in your fetish gear. I’ll repay you some other way. Hey, do you want to learn how to stand on your head?”

James chuckled. “No, I’m happy standing on my feet, thanks.”

He looked out of his window to see everyone within earshot staring at him like he was pissing into a rubber plant. He glared at them until they turned away. “I should get back to work, Blue-Eyes.”

“Okay, but do you want come around to my place for dinner tonight? My roommate’s in Canada and I can finally have sex without her judging me.”

“You don’t want your stripper housemate judgingyou? And wait, who says you’re gettin’ laid? I don’t put out for rice.”

“James, there’s forty kilograms of lace panties about to go tumbling down a dirty manhole…”

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