Page 27 of Twisted Hearts
My lips purse. “Yes.”
“Yes what.”
You’re fucking kidding me.
“I’m not joking,” he growls quietly, reading my mind. “Say it correctly. I’ll have my cappuccino now.”
My eyes turn to green slits. “Yes,Sir.”
“Good girl.”
My cheeks flame as I turn, acutely aware of the way the heels make my hips sway—in my fuckingunderwear—as I walk to the machine. Luckily, I’m not a total cliche mafia princess who’s never worked a day in her life. I had a job at a café in undergrad when I was at NYU, and mercifully it all comes back to me in an instant.
I grind the espresso beans and tamp them down in the little metal filter before securing it into the elegant, Italian machine. While the shot dribbles out, I steam the milk—two percent, as requested—until it’s topped with a nice foamy froth before adding it to the espresso when it’s done. No sugar, and I end with a dusting of cinnamon. I learned how to make a heart in the foam at the café, but I donotdo that this time.
When I turn back to him, my face heats when I realize he’s been staring at me, basically naked, the whole time. Again, he raises his hand to crook two fingers at me. And again, it has a physical effect on me Itrulywish it didn’t, but it does.
My jaw is tight as I march back over to the couch and hand Gavan the cappuccino without a word.
“And my tablet. On my desk.Ifyou would be so kind.”
I glare at him. Gavan just smiles a tight smile right back at me. I turn again, all too aware of his eyes still on my ass as I walk over to his desk and grab the tablet. When I hand it to him, he just looks at me cooly with those flinty eyes and sips his coffee.
The second tick by. I squirm under his gaze as it traces down my body, zeroing in on my sex as my legs shift. Then they slowly drag to my pink scars—the ones from the explosion—on my thigh and my shoulder. I squirm again, the muscles under my skin twisting as if to hide these imperfections from him.
But there’s no escaping that steely gaze. His eyes pierce into my scars, narrowing for a moment as if angry before dragging back up to my face.
“Well, what am I doing now?”
He lifts a brow, saying nothing but everything, and smiles that thin smile. “Ask the right way.”
“You’re joking.”
Gavan’s lips curl. “I’m not.”
“What am I doing now,Sir,” I mutter.
“That’ll be all for today.”
I blink.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t believe I mis-spoke, and we’ve established that you’re fluent in English.”
Seriously? I came all the way here at eight in the morning to make him a fucking coffee in my goddamn underwear?
“That’s it?”
“You’re welcome to sit on the edge of my desk with your legs spread so that I can fuck you while I go through my morning notes if you’d prefer.”
Holy. Fucking. GOD.
My face explodes with heat, and my eyes go wide.
Gavan just smiles.
“If not, then that will beall, Eilish.”