Page 50 of Arrogant Boss

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

His eyes snag on the dress forms, studying the patterns of the lacey bras and panties. “Let me help.”

I stand in front of one of the forms, blocking his view. “No. I don’t want to have any advantage over my other colleagues. And I want to earn this fair and square.” I sigh. “Everyone is gossiping about us at work, and I don’t want them to think you’re showing favoritism toward me.”

“When are you going to stop giving a shit what people think?” He rubs his forehead with his index finger and thumb. “Believe it or not, they can come to me before our meetings to see if they are on the right track.” He removes his shirt and tosses it to the floor.

I lift my eyebrows up my forehead. “When I work on clothing, I normally take my shirt off.”

I watch as his abs flex as he leans over and examines the thread work of the clothing. Adrenaline pumps in my blood, and my stomach knots. I try not to stare, but I can’t help myself.

He strokes his chin. “What size are the panties?”

“I make all my lingerie to my size.”

“A size eight.”

“You know my dress size?”

“I’m a man in fashion. Of course I know.”

He trails his fingers over the lace. “Can you try these on? I want to see you in them.”

“All three of them?”

He nods.

I debate on giving him a fashion show, but what can happen if I wear these for him? I’m not sleeping with him, just modeling them.

I remove my robe from my naked body, and I feel his eyes mold to my skin. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before. I made each fabric in three different colors. Brown, orange, and gold.

The first one, he eyes. I made the bra a little too small, so my nipples peek through the fabric. He doesn’t respond, so I try on the orange. Orange always complements my skin tone, and it’s my favorite color.

“Turn around,” he orders.

Slowly, I do what he says, but he doesn’t say anything else. Anticipation eats at me like a dog nibbling on a bone.

So, I try on the third one, and he watches me with hawk eyes.

“Well… do you like them?”

“Do the panties you’re wearing have a slit between them?”

I nod.

“Let me see.”

“How?”

He pats his leg, and I perch on his lap. My heart beats frantically as he slides his fingers along the edge of my panties, then he trails his finger up to my slick folds. My panties dampen, and my breath hitches.

“You’re supposed to be examining the fabric not trying to fuck me.”

He leans down, and his voice tickles my ear as he whispers, “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

My cheeks burn. We haven’t done this in a while, and I told myself I wouldn’t give in to him, but it’s hard to fight against something I want.

“We shouldn’t,” I whisper.

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