statement rather than to blend in, today’s outfit is a simple sleeveless black shift dress that hits the top of my knee and has a split in the back that reaches high enough to tease but not enough to flash the tops of my thigh highs.
The dress itself molds to my body like a second skin, showing exactly what lies beneath the layers of expensive material without revealing an inch of skin.
My dark red hair spills over my shoulders, tousled and wavy as usual, but thick and shiny and, most importantly, clean. It started up in a neat chignon, but my hair does what it wants, always escaping its confines by afternoon.
I keep my makeup light and natural all except the pop of color from whichever lipstick I choose for the day. Today’s is a vivid pink aptly named Bubblegum Grenade. Kind of reminded me of myself. A little sweet, a little deadly.
A tap at the door has me pulling away from my reflection back into my office, where I dump the first aid kit on the oxblood leather Chesterfield sofa in the corner before pulling the door open.
“Aries is here, ma’am,” Thomas, one of tonight’s two guards, informs me.
“Send him in, please, and tell the rest of the guys they can go home.”
He nods and I close the door and return to my chair.
The door opens once more, and Diablo walks in missing his usual smirk and swagger, before collapsing on the sofa clutching his ribs.
I take a moment to study him, picking up which version of him I’ll be getting tonight, as he returns the favor.
“Well, I guess someone just couldn’t handle you being so pretty.” I sigh, standing up and rounding the desk.
He laughs before groaning. “Don’t make me laugh. I think I’ve cracked a few ribs,” he admits.
“Okay, let me take a look. I’ve had a really long day and I’d rather not have to deal with you dying on my office floor because a rib punctured your lung.”
“I can feel the love from here.” He grimaces, gripping the hand I offer him and using it to help himself up.
I wait until he’s standing directly in front of me before closing the distance between us. Looking up at him, I scan his face, taking in the tightness around his mouth and the shadows under his eyes.
“What happened?” I ask, knowing he won’t answer, but something in me feels compelled to ask.
He stares down at me for a moment before dipping his head and brushing his lips over mine.
He uses his mouth as a distraction, and I let him for a moment before I slip my hands to his waist and grip the hem of his shirt. Pulling my lips free from his, I slowly inch his black T-shirt up over his lickable body.
I wince for him when I see his ribs are already a deep purple color.
“Jesus, Reid, you need a better security team. Either that or you should find a new profession because one of these days, you won’t get back up again,” I warn him, a sickening feeling washing away the traces of lust between us.
“It’s just some bruising, Cherry. Patch me up like a good little nurse and I’ll be as good as new.”
“You know I look at you sometimes and am completely dazed by how fucking gorgeous you are,” I tell him, taking him by surprise, judging by the look on his face.
“I think to myself, how the hell is he single? He’s powerful, loaded, and kisses like he’s going for the gold medal at the kissing Olympics.” His face takes on that lazy, smug look of his, making me shake my head with a small smirk of my own.
“But then you open your mouth, and I have the overwhelming urge to cut out your tongue, and then everything makes sense.” I laugh, shoving his T-shirt up as far as I can before he dips and helps me pull it over his head.
“No tongue means no oral and, babe, you’ll do the world an injustice if that happens.”
“How you fit that head of yours through the door is beyond me.”
“It does seem to grow around you,” he muses, making me snort.
“I mean the other head, the one with the very lonely brain cell. Now stand still for a minute while I check you over.”
He shuts up, and I trail my hands over his hot skin, gently probing his ribs before sliding my hands around to his back. I smile when I feel