POV Milo She thinks I'm Leo. What in the world makes her think that except for my face? You know what-never mind. I don't blame the girl. The first time I saw her in real life, at her friend's backyard, I forgot my own name for a second. Leo had shown me photos. I'd watched the security footage of her interview. None of it did her justice. In person, she glowed. And the kicker? I didn't even know her friend lived in the same gated community where our family bought a few houses. Fate has a sense of humor. Out there, with her friend, she laughed and moved. She wasn't on guard the way she gets with my brothers. With them, she's a tight wire. With me? Something in her shoulders loosens, just a little. When Leo introduced the "game" years ago, I hated it-then kept showing up. Not for the score. For the story. "Good morning, Mr. Stern." Her voice pulls me back. I turn. She's in the doorway, hair pinned, eyes still a little too bright. She doesn't know I saw last night's footage. Leo's desk. Victor's hands. Leo wasn't happy and neither was I. We said we'd keep her wondering longer, damn it. But Victor never could resist a lever when he sees one. "Good morning, Mira," I say, softer than Leo would. "Did you sleep well?" She blinks at the question, like she expected an order, not care. "Yes. Thanks for asking." Victor and Leo are out-they're calling it field work. I call it a gift. She's mine for the day. "Come to breakfast with me," I say, reaching for my jacket. She smiles politely. "I have work to do." "I'm your boss," I remind her gently, stepping near enough to catch the faint citrus of her shampoo. "You can't tell me no. Remember?" Heat rises under her skin on her cheeks. "Right. Boss." She bites her lip, then laughs at herself. "Okay. Breakfast then." "Great." I gesture toward the elevator. "Bring nothing. You'll like where we're going." We descend and cross the lobby; our reflections ripple in the glass like two versions trying to catch up to each other. She falls into step at my side, fingers worrying the seam of her skirt. "What?" I ask, letting my shoulder brush hers-an accident that isn't. "Nothing." "That sounds like something." She glances up. "You're different today." "How so?" Her cheeks rise, amused and nervous. "Less... sharp." "Sharp hurts," I say. "I prefer precise." In the car, city noise swims around us-horns, a siren, the impatient cough of a motorcycle. She studies the skyline like it holds answers. I study her, the quiet between her breaths. "Yesterday," she says finally, low enough to be for me alone, "in your office..." My chest tightens. "What about it?" "Just-" She fumbles, then squares her shoulders. "I'm not doing anything like that in a public place. So if today is another test, I'm telling you my boundaries now." I want to kiss her for that sentence. "Public place?" I echo. "You think I'd put you on a stage?" "You're a Stern," she says, wryly. "You own the stage." A laugh breaks out of me. "Maybe. But breakfast is just breakfast." She lets out a breath. It doesn't fully relax her, but it unknots one thread. The café sits on a corner with ivy trailing the brick and light slanting through tall windows. I bring her to the back booth, the one that catches the mural-swans rising from a dark river, wings tipped in gold. "It's... beautiful," she says, trying to not meet my gaze. I rest my forearms on the table. "So are you." Color climbs her throat. "That's not professional." "I'm not pretending to be," I say. "You blush every time I reach for you," I say when she tucks hair behind her ear for the third time. "Since this morning. Since now." "I do not," she protests, blushing. "Right there," I say, pointing to the spot high on her cheekbone. She presses a napkin there, mortified. "Stop." "Never," I say, smiling. She laughs, helpless. The server brings coffee and things soften. We talk, and I mean it-we really talk, about what seems like everything and nothing. Back at the office, the elevator doors close and the hush snaps into place. It's just us. The air changes-tightens-like a drumhead before the strike. She steps to one side, her hands wrapped around her bag like it's a lifeline, eyes fixed on the lit numbers climbing above the door. "Thank you for breakfast," she says finally, her voice soft but careful. "You're welcome." "I mean it. It was... normal. I needed normal." I lean back against the wall, watching her. "Do you want to keep it normal?" That makes her look at me. Really look. There's a flicker of something in her gaze - wariness, curiosity, and a heat she's trying to smother. "We set a boundary," she murmurs. "No... in a public place." "This isn't a public place." I step forward, slow enough for her to feel the air shift between us. "It's just us." She just swallows and I take another step. Close enough now that her perfume reaches me - soft and warm, like citrus over cream. "One answer, Mira. Do you want me to touch you?" Her breath catches. Her lips part, but nothing comes and she nods once. "Use words." "Yes..." she whispers. That's all I need. I pull my phone from my pocket, flick my thumb across the screen, and hit the hidden command. The elevator shudders once, then the numbers freeze. Her eyes widen. "What did you-" "No worries, no one's getting in. So..." I murmur, slipping the phone back into my jacket. My mouth curves in a slow smile. "...can I have my dessert now?" She opens her mouth, but the answer dies on her tongue when I drop to my knees in front of her. "Wait-" Her voice is a shaky warning, but I'm already hooking my hands under the hem of her skirt. She stiffens, one step back, but I follow, crowding her gently into the corner. "Relax," I say, my voice low and rough. "Let me taste you." She gasps as I push the fabric up, bunching it around her hips, my knuckles grazing the tops of her thighs. Her skin is warm, impossibly smooth, and when I slide my fingers along the crease where her stocking ends, she shivers. "We are in the office-" "And?" I look up at her, catching her gaze as my thumbs brush the lace of her panties. "No one's coming. Just you." Her lips part on a shaky breath. "You're insane..." "Probably," I grin and hook my fingers into the thin band at her hips and tug them down slowly, until they're a black scrap around her knees. She presses her back against the wall, her thighs instinctively closing, but I slip a hand between them, warm palm to hotter skin, and she melts open for me without meaning to. "There you go," I murmur, guiding one of her legs over my shoulder. "That's it." She exhales hard when my mouth finds her wet pussy - the first slow lick up her center making her knees tremble. "Oh-" The sound is small, startled, and perfect. I hold her steady with one hand at her hip, the other curling around her thigh to keep her exactly where I want her. I take my time, tracing her slowly, deliberately, until her hips start to move without her permission. "God..." "Yes?" I speak against her, my lips brushing her most sensitive skin, the vibration making her gasp. "This is-" "Better than breakfast?" I tease before dragging my tongue over her again, this time with more pressure. Her fingers find my hair, tentative at first, then fisting when I wrap my mouth around her and suck, slow and deep. "Oh my God-" Her breath comes quicker. Her thighs tense. She tries to close them around my head but I hold her open, my tongue circling, teasing, then pressing until her knees threaten to give out. "It feels so good... Don't stop," she whispers, her voice breaking halfway through the word. "I wasn't planning to." I slip one finger into her, slow at first, then curling it just so, finding that spot that makes her cry out softly. "Ah!" Her hips roll against me now, chasing it, chasing me. I match her pace, tongue and finger working together until she's shaking in my hands. "You taste so good," I growl against her, and her answering moan is the kind that makes my pulse slam in my throat. Her grip in my hair is desperate and then it hits her - the tremor, the gasp, the arch of her spine as she comes hard against my mouth. I don't stop until she's shuddering, until the aftershocks make her gasp Leo's name like it's something she's never said before. Finally, I ease back, pressing one last slow lick against her before I let her skirt fall back into place. I look up at her from my knees, my breathing steady but my blood on fire. Then I looked at the camera in the top corner of the elevator. And I smile with my lips dripping with her juices. 30 Contents