Rush (Breathless #1)(36)

Gabe’s voice filled her ear, warm and sensual. “Mia, I’m running a little late. I’d intended for us to have lunch together, but I’m going to be delayed. I’m having Eleanor order in lunch for you.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she murmured.

“Did she take you around the office?”

“Yes, she did.”

“And? Everything go well? Was everyone polite to you?”

“Oh of course. Everyone was great. I’m back in the office, obviously, since I’m talking to you. I’m working on the folder of stuff you gave me this morning.”

“Just don’t forget to eat,” he said, admonishment in his voice. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

Before she could say bye, the line went dead. Ruefully, she replaced the receiver and turned her attention back to the folder.

Thirty minutes later, Eleanor popped her head in the door and Mia waved her in. Eleanor carried a takeout bag with her and placed it on Mia’s desk.

“Mr. Hamilton said you like Thai, and there’s a really good place down the block that delivers so I ordered you the special. If you’ll give me an idea of your likes and dislikes, I’ll make note so that in the future I make sure and get you something to your taste.”

“Thai is perfect,” Mia said. “Thank you. You didn’t need to do this.”

Eleanor frowned. “Mr. Hamilton was very specific that I was to order in lunch for you and also to make certain you eat. Oh, and if he didn’t tell you already, he has a stocked minifridge here in his office with an array of drinks, so help yourself. It’s over underneath the cabinet.”

“Thank you, Eleanor. You’ve been very kind.”

Eleanor nodded and then turned and disappeared from the office.

So far Mia wasn’t entirely certain this was working out the way it was supposed to. She was Gabe’s personal assistant, which meant she assisted. It didn’t mean that other employees were supposed to wait on her hand and foot. She hoped he didn’t give others in the department the same kind of directive. If he had, her name would be mud and no one would believe they weren’t sleeping together and that she wasn’t here merely to provide Gabe sexual services.

Even if that was indeed her primary job duty.

Gah. It made her sound like a prostitute. And maybe in essence she was. She was contracted for sex. If that didn’t make her a call girl, what did it make her?

The only consolation she could take was that he wasn’t paying her for sex.

She groaned when she realized just how stupid that assertion was. He was paying her. A lot! For a nonexistent job with duties so far that amounted to memorizing details of key people. She was on his payroll and somehow she didn’t think she’d find “sex toy” on her personnel file. But they both knew that was precisely what she was. A paid sexual submissive.

Her head hit the desk and she sighed. She didn’t think herself particularly submissive. Not that she couldn’t be. In the right situation. But it certainly wasn’t something deeply ingrained within her. A need that she was compelled to fulfill in order to be happy.

It was…a kink. When she’d never imagined she had any. She still wasn’t sure exactly where she stood on the whole idea of bondage and submission and all the other eye-opening items in that contract.

But she’d agreed. She’d signed her name willingly. So she was sure as hell about to find out.

Chapter thirteen

Mia was buried in her work when the door opened and Gabe walked in. She looked up, drinking in the sight of him. His gaze connected with hers and there was a flare of appreciation that gave her a giddy thrill. There was an instant shock of awareness, tension that was nearly tangible in the spacious office.

Lust coiled in his eyes and her stomach bottomed out as all her girly parts came to life. Whoa, but this was some intense chemistry now that they’d allowed it to be unleashed.

“Come here.”

The order was quick and imperious and she stood automatically, responding to the brusque command. She met him in the middle of the floor and he pulled her roughly into his embrace.

His kiss was desperate and aching, as if he’d thought of nothing else but her in his absence. It was a fanciful thought, but one that seemed validated by the way he devoured her mouth. Their tongues met, hot and damp. Her lip gloss would be shot, but the idea of seeing her color on his mouth only intensified the quick desire he’d fueled.

She may wear his marks, but in a way, he’d wear hers too, even temporarily. Her stamp. Her brand. She may be his, but he damn well also belonged to her for however long their agreement lasted.

She caught a whisper of perfume on his clothing, and was seized by fierce jealousy, no matter how unreasonable the emotion was.

The instant possessiveness caught her by surprise. She hadn’t ever considered herself a possessive or jealous person. The idea that some other woman had been close to him made her want to bare her teeth and snarl. He needed an invisible sign that said Hands off. He’s mine.

He reached down, grabbed her hand and then dragged her toward his desk. She wasn’t at all sure what he was about to do, but her senses were on high alert.

He sat in his chair, pushing it back just a bit from his desk.

“Take off your skirt,” he said bluntly.

She glanced nervously back at the door and then quickly back at him.