The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(29)

Me: You have no idea what happened today.



She replies at once.



Mira: Let me guess. You ran into your dishy boss and then he pushed you over his big executive desk and the two of you had office sex?



Me: You think I’m living in a smutty office romance, don’t you?



Mira: Hey, I’d give anything to live in a smutty office romance with a sex-on-sticks boss.



Me: It’s nowhere as smutty as your books.

It’s smuttier. But I’m not going to tell her that.



Mira: Ha, somehow with that eye-candy in your face all day I doubt it. But what were you going to tell me? What happened today?



I begin to type out the incident, then erase my words. Can I tell her I saw a glimpse of my boss’ pecker, and that he was jerking off to thoughts of me, and yep, that was sensual and carnal and raunchy, and I’d want to have him come all over me next time? I squeeze my eyes shut. No, no, no I can’t say that. It’s bad enough I’m admitting it to myself. To tell her would be akin to confessing how much of a slut I am.

My phone buzzes, and I yelp. I glance at the screen, and it’s an unknown number, so I decline it. It rings again; I decline it again. Then, another message pops up.



Unknown: How dare you not take my calls?



Unknown: Also, why aren’t you at your desk?



Unknown: My office. Now.



Of course, it’s him. And how did he get my number? Probably from HR. I change his name in my contact list, so the message now reads:



SirKnighthole: My office. Now.



Okay, so that was childish. But it makes me feel better. The three dots at the bottom of the message move again.



SirKnighthole: Why are you not here?



SirKnighthole: Don’t keep me waiting.



Oh, my god! This man is certified. I message Mira.



Me: Gotta go. The bosshole is calling.



The phone begins to ring again. I grab my coffee, flavor it with pumpkin spice syrup, then add some cream and a spoonful of sugar. I take my time mixing it all in, then walk back to Knight’s office.





The double doors to his room stand open and I enter, holding the coffee in one hand, and my phone in the other. "What’s the hurry? Where’s the fire? Why are you—" I spot Abby seated in one of the chairs in the seating area with Knight standing opposite her.

"There you are." Abby’s face lights up. I walk toward her, and she embraces me. "Hope we didn’t pull you out of anything important?’

"Whatever it was, this is more important," Sir Knighthole growls.

Abby scowls at him. "That’s not very nice."

"No, it’s not," I say sweetly in his direction.

Knight ignores me and directs his words at his sister. "Anyway, this entire scheme is not going to work. This is not something she can deliver on. She’s barely managed to juggle my appointments for the day, and you think she’s capable of drawing up a list of likely candidates for the role?"

"Oh, shush. Penny has the patience and the temperament, and she’ll be able to interview the candidates without pissing them off. Unlike—" She narrows her gaze on him.

Knight snorts, then he folds his arms across his chest and widens his stance, impatience written into every angle of his body.

I look between them. "What are you talking about? Draw up a list of candidates for what role?"

"Uh, it might sound a little unorthodox, but this is going to be the only way out." She wrings her hands. "My father isn’t the easiest person to get along with, as I've told you before. And he was never happy that Knight joined the military. Of course, he’s thrilled that he’s back now, but there’s a problem."

"Clearly, he’s not that happy, since he’s trying his best to kick me out of the company, but I’m not having any of it." Knight leans forward on the balls of his feet. "Nothing is going to stop me from taking over from him and making more money than he ever did in his lifetime. And I’ll do it in less than half the time it took him, too." He shoves a hand inside the pocket of his slacks—his new slacks.

It didn’t skip my attention that he’s changed his clothes since I last saw him. My cheeks heat at the reason for that. Images of him fisting his gigantic cock as he groaned my name crowd my mind. He must sense the direction of my thoughts, for his lips curl. His green eyes, though, are chips of glacial nothingness. Whatever I glimpsed in them as he orgasmed is gone. It’s as if the only time he feels something is during sex—whether he’s pushing me to the edge or masturbating.

"So, what do you think, Penny?" Abby’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Think about what?" I turn to her.

"About what I told you?"

"Oh, sorry, my mind drifted for a second. What was your question?"

"Will you help Knight find a wife?"





16





Knight





Her eyes widen. "Did you say a wife?"

Abby nods, and Penny starts laughing.