Page 111 of Think Outside the Boss

She re-adjusts her mask, a flash of territorialism in her eyes. “You’ve already been spoken to.”

The urge to grin in triumph grows stronger, but I play along, crossing my arms over my own chest. “So I have.”

“She looked… interesting.”

“I told her I was already with someone.”

Freddie’s composure cracks and her lips break into the smile I love the most. Wide and unrestrained and just a bit fierce. A mouth that is kind, but never weak. “I’m happy to hear that,” she says.

I take her hand in mine, fingers brushing over the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. It had been a gift for her twenty-seventh birthday.

She hasn’t taken it off since. “Have you seen how the men have watched you here tonight?”

“No,” she says.

My thumb smooths over the rapid pulse in her wrist. “I have. I’ve seen them all look at you, at how that dress clings to your body, at your hair. They’ve all been hoping they’d be the one you came and spoke to.”

“Yet here I am,” she murmurs, shifting her hand in mine. “Talking to you.”

I incline my head. “Here you are. And do you want to know something?”

“What?”

I lean forward, brushing her ear with my lips. “I’ll never tire of being chosen by you.”

A shiver ghosts across her skin, and it’ll never stop turning me on, seeing how I can affect her, even after these months of ever-growing intimacy. Freddie slips her fingers in between the buttons of my shirt. “Thank you for agreeing to come here with me tonight.”

“Anything you want,” I say, moving my lips down to her neck. “But would you mind telling me why?”

“Why not?” she asks. “It’s fun.”

“It is indeed.”

Her fingers tighten in my shirt. “You once told me you don’t need this anymore, not while we’re together. Is that still true?”

“Unequivocally,” I tell her. Through the thin fabric of her silk dress, my hand traces the outline of her hip. I love these handholds.

“Good. Then this is our last time here.”

I smile against her skin. “I won’t miss it.”

“We’re saying goodbye to it tonight,” she murmurs. “And I’m claiming you.”

I tip her head back to give me better access to her collarbones. I won’t go further than this, not with all these people looking… but there’s no denying a part of me longs to with the fall of her chest so close to my face. My teeth graze over the thin spaghetti strap.

“Claiming me?” I ask.

Freddie gives a single nod. “Yes. The last thing these men and women are going to see tonight is me, leading Tristan Conway out of the Gilded Room.”

I smile against her skin, this fierce, brave woman who went to a sex party she wasn’t invited to, who seduced a man who thought himself un-seducible, and who stood up to her boss when she accidentally emailed him with an insult. “You’ve come a far way, Strait-laced.”

Her hand slides up to grip my hair. A slight, unmistakable tug.

But my grin doesn’t falter. “You don’t hate that nickname anymore,” I challenge.

“No,” she admits, the hand softening. “I don’t.”

“Tell me when you want to lead me out of here, and I’ll follow you.”

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