Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
HECTOR
With Heather’s head on my chest, I gently moved my fingertips up and down her upper arm. I didn’t know how her father hadn’t seen us sneak through the main room together after our sexcapade in the hallway.
I might or might not have something for you, Heather said, looking up at me.
“Is that so?” I hummed.
After she slipped out of my hold, she scurried out of the bed and found her bag on the dresser. She rummaged through it, tossing out some dirty clothes and grabbing a stack of papers and a pen.
She sashayed back over, naked and so goddamn pretty under the dim light. I turned onto my side and propped my head up on my hand as she sat beside me, draping my arm around her waist.
I looked over her hips to see her flipping through the contract that I had given her, expecting her to have revisions about it. But when she made it to the last page and I spotted her signature on the line, my eyes widened.
“Does this make me your submissive?” she asked, giddy.
I snatched the pen from her and immediately signed the line beside hers. Now, it does.
Her mouth dropped open. “You didn’t even read it over.”
“I don’t need to,” I said because I would’ve done anything for her to be my submissive.
“What if I made a revision to it?”
“It wouldn’t matter.”
“What if I forced you to sell me your entire company? Or to, like, give me all your money?”
I tilted my head a couple of centimeters to the side and smiled. I trust you.
“You shouldn’t,” she hummed. “I’m a brat.”
“You’re a brat,” I said. “Not a bitch.”
She opened and closed her mouth a handful of times, then peered back at my signature. I ve just never seen anyone sign a contract that quickly, especially you. You and my dad go back and forth on contracts for days. Weeks. Why did you sign it so quickly?
My lips curled into a small smile, a warmth spreading through my chest. “Because.”
Those pretty eyes stared down at me, telling me she wasn’t taking that as an answer.
“Because why?” she asked.
“Why’d you sign it so quickly?” I asked. “You were so eager.”
After crossing her arms over her chest, she smirked. “ Because .”
A few quiet moments passed between us, and I hoped that she had signed the contract eagerly and quickly because she felt the same way I did about her. But her bratty little mouth would never admit something like that if I didn’t first.
So, I pulled her down to lie with me. “Have you spoken to your professor?”
She stiffened. “About what? The test?”
“Yes.”
Why? she asked, chewing on her cheek. Was my code that bad?
“No.” I buried my face into the crook of her neck. “Steven said it was flawless.”
“What?” she asked.
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yes,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “He said that there was nothing I can do.”
I arched a brow. “Are you lying to me?”
She sucked in her inner cheek. “No …”
“That’s an awfully drawn-out response.”
After sighing, she looked over at me, hair a mess on the pillows. “Fine, I did. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
She fumbled with her fingers, then turned on her side to face me. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
He did say that I could do something, but I hate him, so it s not happening. I m not going to stoop that low.
“What’d he say?”
When she still didn’t want to tell me, I pulled my head back slightly and looked over at her. If he’d asked her to do anything inappropriate after failing her for perfect goddamn code, then I would do more than get him fired from the university.
“Tell me,” I said softly. “What’d he say?”
He said that he d give me a good grade if I could get him an interview at your company. Don t worry -
“Deal.”
“What?”
“I’ll let him interview with the company.”
“Are you kidding me?!” She sat up. “You’re really going to give him an interview?”
I pulled her back to me. “Yes.”
“That asshole doesn’t deserve it. I would rather fail his class three times over.”
Well, I m not going to let that happen.
He would have an interview with me next week. Not because he would ever get a job at my company. Because I wanted to embarrass that dickhead so hard in front of Heather that he walked out of my office with his pants pissed and all of Heather’s grades corrected.
“Hector, you don’t have to do that for me,” she said. “We can?—”
Next Monday at three p.m. My lips curled into a smirk. Tell him not to be late.