Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
He would fire them and forbid me from telling anyone so it didn’t become a scandal that could tarnish our reputation. I can fantasize, though. No one has control over that.
I watch them leave and breathe out a shaky breath before slipping to the bathroom for a shower, taking my pink pleasure toy with me.
Watching Sebastian grinding his jaw and trying to hide the bulge in his slacks as he rushed from Clove’s room is one of the funniest things I’ve seen. The bastard has had a thing for her since she reached fucking age. We all have if the truth be told. He wouldn’t admit it, though, but we’ve been best friends since we met in Afghanistan and worked together ever since. I know our team better than I know myself. I don’t blame him for not admitting what she does to him. Clove is stunning. Like stupid hot with fucking curves most socialites have to pay a surgeon for.
She’s the boss’s daughter, though, so she’s off-limits. That was Sebastian’s rule when starting our company over a decade ago and it’s never been a problem…until her.
We may know that she’s off-limits, but sometimes, the little versions of us in our pants don’t understand that shit, hence Sebastian trying to stop the blood pumping to his cock.
“Broken AC?” I snort.
“It was,” he snaps back, and I hide my grin behind my hand as we approach the others.
“Why were you two with Clove?” Leo asks.
How the fuck did he know?
“I just went to get Sebastian,” I defend, holding my hands up in mock surrender.
“Broken AC,” Seb spits out, at the same time running a hand through his raven-colored hair and looking down at his feet to avoid eye contact.
Leo quirks a brow, his eyes darting between us. “What?”
“What?” we both say in unison with a shrug.
Shaking his head, Leo holds out his phone with a text showing from Clove.
Clove: I need to go to William’s office this morning. Sebastian and Ford will accompany me. Please have the car ready in thirty minutes. Thank you. x
Well, shit.
“She doesn’t usually see him on Mondays,” Leo adds, his tone questioning.
“I’m not her keeper,” I grunt. “I just keep her safe.” I run a hand over the back of my neck and then over my head, messing up my gel. I need a haircut.
An awkward pause thickens the air. Leo has always been too interested in Clove’s life. What she does and when. He’s overprotective and it’s nothing to do with her being a job or the fact he’s in charge of gathering intelligence. He has feelings for her that go beyond his duty, and he’s not good at hiding that fact or gives a shit that any of us know it. It can happen when you’re around the same client for long periods of time.
Shit, calling her a client feels wrong. Less than what she truly is.
They’re supposed to be just a job. Six years is a long job, but still a job. Nothing more. But deep down, I have a hard time convincing myself. And lately, it’s becoming harder to ignore, especially when she traipses around looking hot as fuck all the time.
Images of her in her underwear, a glow to her cheeks, plays on repeat in my head. Goddammit.
“Ford? You listening to me?” Sebastian barks, narrowing his accusing and sometimes creepy-fierce blue eyes at me. The fucker knows I wasn’t listening and probably knows where my thoughts were.
Nodding, I focus my attention on him with a tight grin.
“You’ll go with Zac and accompany him to the coffee meeting with Mr. Sterling. We’ll show up with Clove.” Zac prefers to be assigned to Clove’s father’s protection detail rather than hers for some fucking crazy reason. Why he’d choose Jack over Clove is beyond me. Watching over Clove feels more like a reward than a job.
Sebastian motions to the car. “We’ll take the Bentley.”
Sounds good.
Clove is dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. A string of pearls hug her delicate neck and her long, dark brown hair is pulled up into a tight, neat bun. Lately, she wears this juicy as fuck gloss on her pouty pink lips that makes my mouth water for a taste. Her brown eyes are always made up with liner and mascara, but I prefer her when she’s at home and scrubbed clean. Those honey brown eyes seem to pop and reveal more of the real Clove.
I feel like more and more, especially because of her being with her Ken doll William, she’s lost the real Clove and had to be her dad’s puppet for the press a little too often.
I’m not a fucking fan of Politician Daughter Barbie.
She always looks too put together these days. Seeing her in disarray this morning in just her underwear was enlightening, reminding me of the time I took her shopping when she asked me if she looked appealing in a sexual way years ago. She was wearing a stupid fucking sweater thing with animals all over it. She could pull anything off, but I knew she had never picked out her own clothes her entire life. So, I took her to the mall. It was like letting a caged animal free into the world. She went from shop to shop, happily choosing things she wanted, and finished up in a lingerie shop.