Chapter 7

Feeling uncomfortable, hot under my collar, and somewhat flummoxed, I whispered, “Mr. Sinn, what are you doing?”

He chuckled, removed his hands from my shoulders, stepped a foot away from me, and admitted, “I’m sorry, Victor.”

I heard something completely different within my head: you can sue me if you want, but I can’t help myself around you. I find you very impressive, in many ways, and very attractive. Very few men come into my life I’m drawn to. And, I admit, there’s something about you that…

I spun around in my swivel chair. “We should keep this professional,” I told him. “Sinn needs a realtor, and I want this job to keep busy. Let’s try to make this work.”

What I wanted to tell him, but didn’t: keep your dick inside their chinos and save your lust for after hours. I might just be interested in you then, over a cocktail or dinner.