An office is the last place you’d expect to find me. I don’t do suits. I don’t do meetings. I work with a gun, not a pen. So why am I sitting here again, in my brother’s million dollar office? Because of a girl in a skirt. Why else?
Shelby is that one girl who stands out in a crowd. Her legs, perched in those expensive pumps, make me fantasize about pumping her! Her breasts, pressed tight against her perfect silk blouse, are begging to be released. I came here to get a job done. Now the only thing I can think about doing is her.
The only problem?
I’m not her type. She likes professional, tailored, business men. The kind who wear suits, make big deals, and run companies. Men like my brother.