A few days later, we snuck back inside and went up to the roof. The trash pile was miraculously gone.
I never did completely understand the logic behind what Easton had done. I got the threat, but I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t just come out and make it ourselves instead of playing pretend. He said that we would never have gotten into the guy’s front door, let alone made him listen, if we were just being ourselves.
So whatever magic Easton had, it seemed to work. I was pretty skeptical of the whole thing, although it was pretty exciting. He had been cool and calm and serious, and even a little protective. I didn’t need him to hover over me, but I did feel a little start in my stomach whenever he looked at me.
“Please, if there is anything you ever need, you come to me,” Mrs. Suarez said, letting him go.
“You already paid. That’s enough.”
Mrs. Suarez went to hug him again, but he deftly stepped out of the way. She said something in Spanish and he replied in Spanish. They had a quick conversation, only half of which made any sense to me, and then finally Mrs. Suarez left the office.
I laughed at him, shaking my head. “What was that last part about?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he grunted, sitting down behind his desk.
“Come on, tell me.”
“She was offering me a daughter.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“To marry, I guess.” He smirked at me. “I’m thinking about taking her up on it.”
“Go ahead. Are they cute?”
He shrugged. “Depends. Are donkeys cute?”
I laughed and leaned up against the filing cabinet. “Not in the way I’m thinking, they aren’t.”
“Well there you go.”
“You did a good thing, you know.”
He paused. “I got paid. I did a job. That’s it.”
“Still. Those people really needed it.”
“Doesn’t matter to me. If they can pay, I’ll help.”
I sighed. “Are you really so callous?”
“Not much moves this heart, sis. The only thing that excites me anymore is that very shapely ass of yours.”
“You’re so flattering,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“How about we celebrate this good thing I did,” he said, motioning for me to come over. “Maybe right here on the top of my desk.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to talk to an employee that way.”
“No, definitely not. But I love the way you blush when I do. And I bet you’re soaking wet thinking about me fucking you until you scream my name.”
“Definitely not supposed to say that,” I mumbled, trying not to blush. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a knack for getting under my skin.
Worse, he had a knack for getting me riled up and soaked. I glanced at his strong arms and bit my bottom lip, looking away quickly. He caught my glance, though, and stood up, coming nearer.
“I’m not supposed to tell my stepsister that I want to feel her lips wrapped around my hard cock either, but I’m doing that.” He stopped near me.
“Keep it up,” I said, “and I’ll tell on you.”
His grin got larger. “Yeah? Going to tell mommy and daddy that I tried to fuck your tight little pussy?”
I shook my head. “Never going to happen.”
“We both know you don’t keep coming back for the shit pay.”
“Why do I keep coming back then?”
He got close, so close to me. I backed up completely against the filing cabinet and felt his hot breath on my neck. The thrill of a job well done was ringing in my veins, my heart pumping fast, my pussy soaked through yet again. His eyes were burning into mine, and I was practically begging him to kiss me, to bend me over and lift up my inappropriately short skirt.
“I can’t figure it out. I think you want to ride me until you can’t think.”
“Figure this out,” I said softly. “You’re my boss and my stepbrother. It’s never going to happen.” As much as I’m starting to want it to, I thought to myself.
“Your loss.” His mouth was so close to mine. “I keep thinking about how you’d taste.”
The phone began to ring, and I practically jumped up into the ceiling.
He pulled back and laughed at me.
“Going to get that?” he asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” I quickly moved around him, though he didn’t give me any room. Our bodies touched for a moment, sending a thrill through my chest.
I grabbed the phone on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Is this Easton Wright? Private, uh, detective?”
“This is his office. How can I help you?”