Chapter 2

The car ride was suffocatingly quiet. Atlas didn't turn on the music or ask me any questions. He just watched the road like I wasn't even there.

"We’re here," he said as the car stopped in front of a house that looked more like a museum than a home.

He grabbed my bags and led me inside. The interior was beautifully furnished.

"Make yourself comfortable, Leslie," Atlas said as he dropped my bags near the door of my room.

He didn't look at me. He was already unbuttoning his cuffs.

"My housekeeper is off until Monday. You’re on your own for dinner."

"Comfortable," I repeated, a small smirk playing on my lips. "I can do that."

I waited until I heard his bedroom door click shut before I went to my room.

I didn't want to look comfortable. I wanted to look like an invitation. I changed into a pair of short jersey pants that exposed enough of my butt cheeks and a thin crop top. I let my hair down, messy and intentional as I observed my looks in the huge mirror in my closet.

I went down to the kitchen to make something for myself and maybe for him.

I turned on the music connected to my AirPods. I hummed and moved to the beat.

I didn’t know how long I had been cooking but I heard footsteps. I didn't turn around. I just swayed my hips slightly, reaching for a spice on the top shelf.

I felt his presence , his intense stare even from behind. I smiled internally realizing my plan was in full motion.

"You cook," Atlas said. His voice was raspier than usual.

I turned then, leaning my elbows on the counter so my cleavage pressed against the fabric. Atlas was drenched in sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his chest, his eyes tracking the movement of my lips.

He went for a run. I didn’t even mean to stare but God he looked so fucking hot I couldn’t stop myself.

His lips curved into to a tiny smirk when he realized.

I cleared my throat.

"I…I have survival skills," I teased. "Want a bite?"

Atlas looked at me. His expression turned dark as his eyes roamed my body making my stomach do a flip.

Then, he walked over and stood right in front of me. He didn't say a word. He got closer and I felt the warmth of his body. His strong scent mixed with sweat. He knew how to make me completely lose myself as I take a step back but he grabbed me by my waist immediately.

He hoisted me up until I was sitting on the counter. I gasped from his action, I wrapped my legs instinctively around his hips.

He leaned in, his face inches from mine, and for a second, I thought he was going to break. He kissed my neck, a slow, deliberate movement that made my breath hitch.

He inhaled sharply.

"You smell like trouble," he muttered against my neck sending shivers through me.

Just as I felt the heat between us reach a breaking point, just as I reached for the hem of his shirt, he stopped.

He pulled back, a devastatingly calm smile on his face.

"Don't burn the dinner, princess," he whispered.

He walked out of the kitchen without looking back. I sat there my heart racing, I had to practically run to my room.

The ache between my thighs grew so sharp, I just knew I will have to touch myself for relief this night.

He was playing a game of restraint, and I was losing my mind.

The next day was a Sunday. It was too quiet, my last day of freedom before senior year started, and being stuck in this massive house was starting to grate on my nerves.

Atlas was still playing the hard to get routine, acting like he didn't even notice me, but I knew better. I've never been the type to take no for an answer, especially when it comes to a man I actually want. My ex was the son of the dean at my school, a guy who thought he owned every room he walked into. We shared an apartment until things went south, and he was the exact reason I refused to live anywhere near campus. I needed a shark to protect me from a bottom-feeder, and Atlas was the biggest shark in the ocean.

After spending the whole afternoon pretending to organize my bags and prep for classes, I was bored out of my mind. I decided to head to his office. I kept on the tiny jersey shorts but threw an oversized hoodie over them, making it look like I had nothing else on underneath.

I knocked once. He didn't answer, but I knew he heard me. I didn't wait. I turned the handle and walked in anyway.

Atlas was sitting behind his desk, looking like a literal Greek god in nothing but grey joggers and a plain white t-shirt that hugged his chest in all the right places. He didn't even look up from his laptop at first.

"I didn't tell you to come in, Leslie," he said. His voice was low.

"You didn't tell me to stay out, either," I countered. I leaned against the doorframe, just watching him.

He finally looked up, leaning back in his chair. His eyes went dark immediately, roaming over my body with an intensity that made my heart hammer against my ribs. Is he actually eye-fucking me right now? My cheeks flushed deep red, but I didn't look away.

"You're bored," he stated. "Or you're just looking for trouble you can't handle."

"Maybe a little of both," I said, a teasing smile playing on my lips. I walked toward him, slowly. I stopped right in front of his desk and bit my lip, making sure he caught the movement. "I told you, Atlas. I have my reasons for being here."

"And what are they?" he asked. He sounded amused, but his jaw was clamped tight. "Besides making my life difficult?"

"Maybe you're part of the reason," I whispered.

I moved around the desk, my pulse racing. He didn't move a muscle, but his eyes followed every single shift of my hips as I got closer. Just as I reached his chair, he suddenly moved.

He hooked his hand around my waist and pulled me forward.

Before I could even gasp, he guided me onto his lap. He positioned me right on top of him, my bare thighs straddling his waist. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin and the unmistakable, hard member of his crotch pressing directly against my center.

The sensation made my breath hitch, a sharp ache blooming between my legs that made my knees feel weak.

"You want to play games, princess?" Atlas whispered, his face inches from mine. He shifted his hips, forcing me to feel exactly what I was doing to him. "Let's see how long you last before you're the one begging me to stop."

He hummed against my neck, and it sent shivers through me. His right hand drifted down to my thigh, his fingers digging in and squeezing the skin slowly, deliberately. I bit my lip hard, trying to keep it together as the heat between us just kept building.

He hadn't even really done anything yet, but I was already aching and wet for him. I was on the verge of closing my eyes and just letting him take over when something caught my attention. My gaze darted to a small frame sitting on the edge of his desk. I froze when I saw the face of a little girl smiling back at me.

My stomach did a complete 180. I didn't even care that his hand was starting to creep higher up my thigh, dangerously close to the edge of my shorts.

I cleared my throat, my voice shaking.

"Is that your... daughter?" I gasped.

The question came out just as his hand reached the waistband of my shorts. He didn't stop. He just hummed again, and when his fingers moved, I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.

"Mmmm…I didn't know," I managed to say, my head falling back against his shoulder.

I couldn't look away from the photo, even as the feeling of him made it impossible to think straight. I shifted my hips, pressing harder against him, trying to reconcile the man holding me with the person in that picture.

Is there another woman in his life?