Chapter 6 6. The Contract Clause
Hazel's voice cut through the heavy silence of the office, sharp and laced with accusation. "Mr. Richardson?"
She lifted her head, pinning him with narrowed blue eyes that flickered between outrage and a reluctant spark of intrigue. The contract lay open in her lap, its pages crinkling under her tightening grip, the words blurring slightly as her mind raced over the implications.
Michele didn't look up immediately, his broad shoulders hunched slightly over the laptop, fingers tapping the keys with deliberate slowness. The muscles in his forearms flexed with each press, veins bulging under tanned skin, a mesmerizing rhythm that drew her gaze despite herself.
"Any doubts, Ms. Thomas?" His tone was casual, almost bored, but the underlying smirk in his voice hinted at the game he was playing, drawing her deeper into his web like a spider savoring its catch.
He finally glanced up, brown eyes locking onto hers with that predatory gleam, his full lips twitching as if he could read every filthy thought flickering through her mind. Hazel's finger jabbed at the contract, tracing the dense paragraphs before zeroing in on the offending clause. Her nail scraped the paper as she pointed to the line in bold-
‘The personal assistant shall be available to the CEO at all times, including residing on the company premises to ensure uninterrupted service.’
Her breath hitched, a gasp escaping her parted lips. "This... this means I must live with you?" The words tumbled out, laced with disbelief and a forbidden thrill.
Michele pushed back from the desk with a fluid grace, rising to his full height. The chair scraped softly against the polished floor as he rounded the table, his presence looming larger with every step, the air thickening with the raw masculinity that radiated from him. He reached her side in moments, his hand brushing the arm of her chair before shoving the adjacent one aside with a casual nudge, creating an intimate space just for them. Leaning against the edge of the desk now, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body, he crossed his arms over his chest.
His smirk deepened, eyes raking over her form, from the flush creeping up her neck to the way her skirt had hiked up, exposing the creamy skin of her inner thighs. She couldn't meet his gaze, her eyes dropping to her lap, cheeks burning as his intense stare bored into her. It felt like a physical touch, heavy and insistent. The scent of him enveloped her, that same cologne mixed with a hint of arousal, making her mouth water with the unbidden urge to drop to her knees.
"What's going through that pretty head of yours, Hazel?" he teased, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that vibrated through her core. He uncrossed his arms, one hand trailing idly along the desk's edge, inches from her knee. "Imagining my hands on you again? How I'd pin you down right here, spread those thighs wide and bury my face in your wet pussy until you're dripping down my chin? Or maybe you're picturing me bending you over this desk, my cock stretching you open, pounding into that tight ass while you scream for more?"
His words were explicit, laced with sexy promise, each one stoking the fire between her legs until she squirmed, her arousal slick and undeniable. Hazel's breath came in shallow pants, her body betraying her with a fresh wave of heat, nipples hardening to aching points that begged for his mouth. She shook her head, but the denial was weak, her lips parting as if to taste the air thick with tension.
Before she could retort, Michele threw his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that filled the room, startling her upright. The vibration of it rumbled through the desk, resonating in her chest. This time, she turned to face him fully, staring despite the whirlwind in her mind. She couldn't look away, mesmerized by the transformation.
He was handsome, no doubt, she'd accepted that the very first time she saw him, his chiseled jaw and piercing brown eyes cutting through the haze of her drunken night like a promise of sin. But now, watching him laugh, the lines around his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement, she found him more beautiful, almost magnetic. His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, tousled in a way that made her fingers itch to run through it, to pull him down for a bruising kiss while his tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her as thoroughly as his cock had claimed her body.
The laughter faded as abruptly as it started, Michele straightening with a clearing of his throat, though the amusement lingered in his eyes like a secret shared. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, sending shivers cascading down her spine to tease her. "I'm not asking you to share a bedroom with me, Hazel," he clarified, his tone shifting to something almost reassuring, yet still edged with that dominant allure. "Though the thought has its appeals, waking up to your curves pressed against me, sliding into your heat first thing in the morning." He paused, letting the sexy implication hang, his gaze dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "I offer my personal assistants a room in my outhouse. Private, comfortable, but close enough to be at my beck and call. So, you will have to stay there. It's part of the package, ensuring you're always ready to serve."
Relief washed over her like cool water, easing the knot in her stomach even as an undercurrent of temptation lingered, making her pussy clench at the domestic intimacy of it all. She sighed, the sound soft and involuntary, her shoulders relaxing as she finally met his gaze without flinching.
"When do I have to shift?" she asked, her voice steadier now, though laced with the remnants of her arousal, the question hanging in the charged air between them.
