"What do you want to know," I asked as I flipped my hair over my left shoulder.

He was silent for a moment, just looking me over, "I want to start with why you dropped out of college. I remember you saying it was a sore subject but I'd like to know why, if you don't mind."

Dämn, I didn't want to think about why I was forced to drop out, but he was staring at me, searching my eyes.

I sighed and began, "Well, I lived around New Orleans with my parents and I was going to Tulane. I wanted to graduate, but my grandmother who used to live out here recently...passed."

His face softened and he grabbed my hand in his right, his left hugging my shoulder as I continued, "We were close and we talked basically every day. She was my rock and she paid for me to go to college. That was the only thing she ever asked of me. She used to say ′Never let a man take care of you. Be independent, Genny. Get your degree and buy yourself the life you want'."

I paused to collect myself, suddenly feeling very emotional.

"Sorry," I whispered as I looked down at the table. It hurt to think about her...it was so recent that it all happened...

I regretted dropping out of college and I missed my grandmother. It was just unfair the way that life worked sometimes.

His thumb rubbed against my knuckles, his other slightly caressing my shoulder, "You're fine, Genevieve. Don't ever apologize for showing emotion."

"Sorry about your wait, Mr. Blackstone. Would you like me to pour this for you," The waiter held the bottle above his glass.

"Yes, thank you," Dominic answered, but his eyes never leave my face.

The waiter poured the wine into our glasses and put the bottle back into the bucket of ice before leaving it on the table.

"Your food should be out shortly," he stated before disappearing behind the wall separating us from the rest of the restaurant.

"Continue," Dominic lightly commanded.

"Um," I began, "So, I dropped out to come and clear out her house and get it ready to sell. I've already spoken to a realtor and she has a few potential buyers. I just need to hire some people to move her bigger things such as furniture, the bigger boxes, and stuff like that to a storage unit so that I can, hopefully, one day, go through it all. Her and my mother were never close so she left her savings to me...but that also means she left everything else to me as well.

"That's how I bought my apartment here in town... She would be disappointed if she knew that I had dropped out to come and dote over her stuff, but she was my rock, Dominic. She was my best friend and now I have no one."

The thoughts rush out of my mouth and I blush at the suddenly shared information.

"You have me. If you ever need anything, Genevieve, please just ask," he said and I could hear the sincerity in his voice and it made my heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," I whispered, suddenly self-conscious about my over-sharing, "You truly have no idea how kind you've been to me. You probably didn't realize how much I needed this job, not just for the income, but to also have something to take my mind off of the whole situation. Some days I just want to forget about my grandmother and dropping out of college and..," I looked into his eyes, "You can't know how much you've helped me forget about these things. It's been...interesting so far, Mr. Blackstone."

He was silent for a moment and I saw his eyes darken, "It has been...interesting, as you say, hasn't it? And it's Dom," he reminded me in a low voice and he squeezed my hand.

"Dom," I corrected my self, my voice breathless and my eyes wide.

I, suddenly, wasn't thinking about my grandmother or dropping out of college anymore.

I was thinking about this man beside me: his face, his dark honey-colored eyes, his muscles, his hands...

He looked down at the pendant on the choker around my neck and when he returned my gaze, his pupils had overtaken the color in his eyes and whether that was due to the small amount of light in the restaurant or something else...

I was all but sure of what his next question would be.

"Are you," he asked, his thumbnail lightly digging into the skin on the top of my hand.

"Am I what," I breathed out, knowing what answer he wanted. He's been eyeing the pendant all day and I was wondering when he'd comment on it.

"A slut," he asked through clenched teeth.

I clenched my thighs together and gasped, "Dominic."

He let go of my hand and grabbed my knee before running his hand up and under my dress, "Answer the question, Genevieve," he commanded, his voice low and husky, his hand traveling higher up my thigh.

"Yes," I whispered and grabbed his hand.

"Yes, what," he squeezed my thigh and my eyes closed.

Was this really happening? Was I really having this conversation with my boss?

And how far would I let this go?

"From experience? Not very, but Dominic is new, he isn't Jackson, and he makes you feel...more than Jackson ever did."

"Genevieve, answer me. Yes, what," He asked, his lips at my ear.

My breathing was heavy and his hand as steadily traveling higher, a few more inches and his forefinger would be touching my panties.

"Yes Dominic, I'm a slut," I heard myself whimper.

He growled low and nipped at my ear lobe, his finger hitting the intended target.

"Yeah, you are. You're such a fucking slut in this dress, in every skirt you've worn since coming to work for me. You wanted me to see your body, didn't you, little slut," he asked as he moved his hand so his fingers were rubbing my sensitive nub over the cloth.

And all I could do was focus on making sure that my moans didn't get too out of control.

"Yes, Sir," I admitted and then bit my lip to keep quiet.

His lips moved to my neck, lightly sucking, his teeth nipping, his tongue lapping, and there was no doubt that he was leaving a mark, but in a spot that my hair could cover, thankfully.

"You're so wet, Genevieve. I can feel it through your panties. You've soaked them. Take them off now and give them to me," he whispered into my neck and bit me there again.

My eyes widened at that and I turned to lean away from him but saw the waiter come around the wall with our plates and Dominic straightened, taking his hand away from me.

It was as if nothing had happened.

Dominic handed the waiter five 100 dollar bills, "Keep the change and don't come back," he told the man.

And once he was gone around the wall, Dominic turned to me, "Eat," he commanded.

I cleared my throat and was still in shock about what had just happened...I was still looking at him with wide eyes.

"I won't say it again, Genevieve. Do as I say," he said sternly.

I grabbed my fork and twirled the pasta around, suddenly much more hungry for something else.

"I can't eat, Sir," I said quietly.

And, suddenly, he dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clink and glared at me.

He got out of the booth and disappeared around the wall, reappearing a moment later with two to-go boxes.

After having scraped the food into the boxes, he gestured for me to get up and once I was out of the booth, he held the boxes in one hand and the other was on my hip, pushing me through the restaurant and towards the door.