Just as I predicted, Kayla was a few seconds behind me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Her expression was a mix of curiosity and exasperation, and I gave her a quick smile.

But I didn’t answer.

Instead, I pulled the tie off, the scrape of the fine silk against my shirt low but still electric.

I tossed it aside and then took off the cufflinks. When I lay the cufflinks on the small side table, Kayla scoffed.

“Don’t leave those there, because I will sell them,” she said, her words sounding like a threat.

One that I laughed off. “I have others.”

Once my shirt cuffs were open, I started working on the buttons of my shirt, moving with a patience and ease I didn’t feel.

Because no matter the circumstances, that need for her that had been on a low simmer for years was close to a boil.

And it was that connection that was the one thing I knew Kayla couldn’t deny.

She might hate my fucking guts, but she still wanted me.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

I discarded the shirt and then went to work on my belt, the sound of the zipper pulling open the only noise in the room.

I noticed Kayla hadn’t looked away, so I lifted a brow as I unbuckled my pants and pulled them down.

“You’re still here,” I said.

“This is my home,” she responded, her eyes directly on me.

I shook my head at her.

“Wrong, Kayla. This place is mine, just like you are,” I said.

She frowned, but I noticed she was biting her lip, staring at me intently as I stroked my cock from root to tip and back again, smearing it with precum until it glistened.

“Come here, Kayla,” I said.

My voice was low, but the command in it was undeniable.

I wasn’t surprised that she responded.

She walked toward me slowly, and I could see her hesitance, that stubbornness that was so much a part of her.

Again had confirmation that whatever the thing was that drew me was the same for her.

“Undress,” I said, still stroking myself at a leisurely pace.

My pathetic attempt to keep some control, not that such a thing was possible with her.

I stroked a little faster as she undressed, the matter of factness of the way she moved hotter than any striptease.

When she was naked, she stood in front of me unmoving, waiting for my command.

That soft compliance making me feel powerful.

“Come here,” I said, my voice lower, on edge.

I watched as she approached me, her full, abundant body beautiful, making my cock jerk against my palm.

She stopped in front of me, her eyes angry but also dark with passion.

“On your knees,” I said.

She didn’t even hesitate, which made my cock jerk again.