ADDICTED

7

JAMES

Surely, Leah had completed the paperwork by now. She'd been in the conference room for nearly an hour now without a peep. I was tempted to adjust the privacy partition between us to check on her progress, but I didn't. I had to close the binds or I wouldn't get anything done. If she was around, it was as if every sense in my body zoned in on her. She was distracting without even trying to be. It was annoying. I was certain my instincts preparing for any stunts this bitch might pull. She'd enchanted Jarrod somehow and I wouldn't let her siren call affect me.

I would not notice or pay attention to the way her slacks clung to her round, ample ass or how her shirt clasped tightly to her supple breasts. I wouldn't even risk peering into those doe-like hazel eyes.

Shaking my head at these offensive thoughts, I fought the tightness growing in my pants. I saved the write-up I'd been working on and rose from my desk. I adjusted my trousers with a sigh before striding over to the next room. Leah was standing at the window with her eyes fixated outside again. What was her fascination with that window?

"Finished?" I asked.

She turned with a stifled gasp and then ducked her head. "I—yes." Her tongue shot out to wet her painted pink lips before she met my gaze again, now more confidently. "There's a bear in your yard. I couldn't stop myself from watching him."

"If you are going to let the wildlife distract you from your work, Miss Harris, we might have some problems. I live on a nature reserve."

"I finished my task," she said. "It won't distract me, Mr. Muller."

My cock jumped to attention at the unexpected formality. I curled my hands into fists to ward off the rush of heat through my body.

"You should have brought the completed papers to my office then," I said sharply.

"You could have been more clear with your instructions, sir."

We glared at each other. For some horrible reason, I felt myself harden even more. What the hell was happening? Where the fuck was my self-control?

"I could fire you," I growled.

She crossed her arms and pushed her breasts to the neckline of her blouse.

Christ's sake.

"For what?" she demanded. Her eyes blazed at me with unexpected heat. "I did exactly what you said. If you stopped being an ass, you'd see I am a good worker."

"I don't see that ever happening," I countered. "The day I want you here will be my last."

She visibly winced at my remark, and I regretted it right away. Even though it might have been true—that I would never willingly choose to be around her—it didn't make it any less callous. Besides, it was a bit dramatic what I said anyway.

Before I could apologize, she ducked her head and softly asked, "What's my next task, Mr. Muller?"

The sudden extinguishing of her temper left the air hot between us. She had no idea what her subservience did to me, especially addressing me as such. I shouldn't have let it affect me in any way, but I couldn't help it.

She was hot and cold, equally damning to my sense of logic. I hadn't been so intrigued and infuriated by anyone in years. Everything about this woman challenged me and my life.

I had been to clubs with professional subs, been teased and stroked by them since Marissa's death, but I never felt anything. Not a goddamn thing. I thought my grief numbed me to any form of sensation.