It’s Kathryn . . .
“You ready?” Tristan’s voice sounds from behind me.
I immediately click out of the footage and shuffle the papers on my desk, completely flustered.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby,” I stammer. “Just got to take care of something.”
“Okay, don’t be long, hey?” Jameson says.
I hear them leave in the elevator and I stare at my computer screen in shock.
No.
Couldn’t be.
Kathryn’s not hot, she’s never been hot. I would have noticed if she was that fucking hot.
My cock is thumping, demanding attention, and I guiltily look back at the door to make sure my brothers are gone.
Just another quick look . . . Wouldn’t hurt.
It probably wasn’t even her.
I open the computer screen again and see the red dress bouncing to the beat.
It is her.
She’s facing the camera now and my eyes roam over the way her breasts are bouncing. The curve in her neck, the cinch in her waist. The way her high ponytail moves as she dances.
I get a vision of wrapping that ponytail around my hand as I pull her down to suck me off.
My cock clenches. I shudder with a disgusted shake of my head.
Fuck . . .
I need to get laid.
Chapter 2
I pack up my desk with haste—I want to get far from my computer as quickly as possible. I close it down and with one last look around my office, I head to the elevator, hit the button with force, and exhale heavily.
I’m rattled: it’s rare that a woman gives me a physical reaction anymore. Lately I’ve been struggling with attraction issues, nobody seems to be doing it for me, no matter how beautiful they are, and I have no idea why. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve dated some of the most beautiful, extraordinary women in the world, and yet, still. I haven’t found what I’m looking for. Perhaps my brothers are right about my standards being unrealistically high.
But, a rock-hard boner from an employee I despise, Kathryn Landon.
Just fucking no.
I march out of the elevator and into the lobby, and see Jameson, Tristan, and Christopher waiting out on the curb for me. Jay and Christopher are looking at something on Jameson’s phone, deep in conversation.
“We going?” I snap impatiently. “Or what?”
Tristan looks up. “We’re waiting for you, dick. What do you think?”
I roll my eyes as I run my hand through my hair. “Drinks?”
“Yeah,” Jay mutters.
We turn the corner and begin to walk, and Tristan digs his phone out of his pocket; his eyes narrow when he sees the name on the screen.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Malcolm, my neighbor at home.” He answers it. “Hi Malcolm.”
He listens as we walk and then he narrows his eyes at me and gives a subtle shake of his head.
“What?” I mouth.
“Harrison,” he mouths.
I chuckle. Tristan’s middle son is sending him grey.
Wild as a bear.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know, Malcolm, I’ll take care of it from here.” He listens. “No, I appreciate you not calling Claire, she has her hands full with the girls,” he says. “Thanks again.” He hangs up and immediately dials a number. “I’m going to kill this fucking kid with a smile on my face,” he mutters under his breath.