Chapter Seventeen
Penelope
I smoothed my fingers over the cashmere of the sweater I’d pulled on for the millionth time. At this point, I probably looked like a pervert because I kept touching myself, but there was no one around to look at me in Dristan’s home, so I didn’t care.
I hummed happily as I made my way to the kitchen. The array of fruits on the island had a happy squeak leaving my lips. I hurried closer, already grabbing and squeezing them. There was a platter of toast, eggs and cereals that I completely ignored, pulling out the cutting board to make myself a fruit salad.
I was just finishing up as Dristan entered the kitchen. His broad shoulders filled the entryway from the bedroom and I almost swooned where I stood. He had his jacket tossed over one arm, his crisp white shirt fitting his body like a glove, his muscles bulging underneath and his tie open around his neck.
His stutter-step as he spotted me made my face heat. His yellow gaze dragged down my body and I’d never felt more sexy in my life.
“You look beautiful,” he said, moving to lean against the island opposite me. He licked his lips as he laser-focused on my exposed cleavage.
I struggled to smother a smile, preening in my knowledge that this big, handsome male couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. “Thank you for the clothes. And for having Estrella set everything up for me.”
He nodded with a grunt, his gaze not budging an inch. I was finally beginning to understand his grunts as a form of communication. This one would be translated as “You’re welcome.”
“Do you think I could work with Fionel today?” I asked him. “Since I’m not too familiar with the layout of your files? I don’t want to bother you with the basics.”
I watched his expression become thunderous, his brow dropping into a stern frown and those sharp yellow eyes grudgingly popped up to meet mine. “No,” he snapped. His response was sharp and succinct before he went back to his previous ogling, his face relaxing once more.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Dristan, I saw your schedule for today. You don’t have time to walk me through every little thing.” I leaned against the island, grabbing a fork for my fruit salad and Dristan tilted his head at it before grabbing a fork for himself.
“You’re smart,” he argued with a shrug. “I can’t imagine it’d take long for me to teach you.” He stuck his fork into my salad and I smacked the back of his giant hand with my fork.
He didn’t even flinch, taking a bite of the fruit and nodding toward my bowl. “Make some for me,” he demanded.
I huffed at his bossy tone but decided to ignore it, passing the bowl to him and starting again on my own. “You realize that you have meetings all morning,” I snipped. “And that means that if I can miss them and work with Fionel—”
He cut me off, making a slashing motion with his hand before tucking into the fruit salad. “No. I already told you, you’re working with me . Not Fionel.”
“You’re the most stubborn male I’ve ever met,” I huffed, going back to cutting.
He grunted and I took that one to mean “Yes I am, and I don’t care what you think, pitiful human.”
Scowling at him, I watched him finish off the fruit salad before eyeing my bowl again curiously. I held up the knife I was using to cut the mangoes I had in front of me and he grinned at me. My knees went weak at the expression. He was so handsome it was unfair.
He grabbed the platter of eggs instead, helping himself while I shakily went back to my fruit.
Focus, Pen. This is your boss. Your sexy as fuck boss, yes, but still your boss.
“I want you to get used to being in those meetings with me. Giving your opinion,” he said, oblivious to the silent argument I was having with myself.
“I don’t think I’m qualified to give my opinion,” I murmured, ducking my head.
“You will be when I’m finished teaching you. We’re not there yet,” he huffed, narrowing those piercing eyes at me. “And I never want to hear that from you again. You need to understand your worth.”
I froze under his steely look, ignoring the sting at the back of my eyes and fighting the tears. No one outside of my immediate family had ever said anything like that to me before. My family thought I was brilliant because I’d been accepted into the tiny local college, but after I’d had to drop out, I’d been too embarrassed to even talk about that.
Listening to this male—this titan of industry—you’d think I was a real hire, not a simple pity-vote. I nodded without responding to him, taking a bite of my fruit. He didn’t look away for a long moment, but when he did, he did so with a huff, his nostrils flaring.
He gathered his jacket from the back of his chair, knotting his tie with quick, efficient motions. Eyeing me, his fingers slowed, becoming clumsier. I frowned as he made a big loop that wasn’t there before. He fumbled for a few more moments before I asked,
“Do you need some help with that?”
“Yes,” he responded right away, moving over to where I was sitting.
Bemused, I moved to wash my hands and he followed behind me. I forced myself to smile up at him as I dried my hands and then tiptoed to reach. His huge palms moved to my waist and I squeaked as he lifted me—it was so effortless and fast that I felt a wave of dizziness as he settled me on the counter where I could reach easier.
I swallowed hard—no one had ever lifted me off my feet as an adult before. It was disorienting and hot at the same time. Ignoring the sudden flood in my panties, I began knotting the tie. I’d only ever done it a few times when my mother showed me how, but I remembered the movements.
Being that close to him, I couldn’t stop myself from inhaling his woodsy scent. I felt the heat of him—and I swayed forward, barely stopping myself from pressing against him. Trying to get control of my own body, I gritted my teeth, my fingers faltering as they brushed against his shirt.
Even his shirt’s hot.
Biting my lip, I glanced down at where his hands were still holding my waist. As I did, I noticed something that made my breath go shallow.
He’s hard. Hard and huge.
Yanking my eyes back up to the tie and pretending I hadn’t seen anything, I struggled to force my shaking hands to follow instructions. When the knot was complete—but definitely not as neat as it could be, I patted it gently.
“You’re good to go,” I whispered, meeting his smoldering gaze for only a moment before looking away. His fingers clenched in my skin and I had to bite back a gasp as he lowered me to the ground as though I was as light as a feather—which I knew very well was the furthest thing from the truth.
He’s so strong. He could just use me like his own cock sleeve—
Cutting off the completely inappropriate thought, I cleared my throat and brushed past him.
“Thank you,” he called after me and I lifted a hand in acknowledgement. I wouldn’t be able to speak with my dry mouth anyway.