Chapter 19
Hazel
So,I don”t hate my boss. Like, at all.
Weird, right? I mean… he”s still demanding and awfully cocky, but let”s say I”ve been getting to know him more intimately. God. He”s all I’ve fantasized about and more.
How do we keep it going, though?
We”ve talked more, but we both tiptoe around the main subject. What are we? Where are we going? And most important of all, what happens after this ends? Because, let”s face it, he”s not known for long-lasting relationships.
Once the affair becomes old news for him or someone more interesting comes along, that”s it. I can”t even leave my job without a Plan B.
If I quit without something comparable guaranteed, I”m fucked.
And not in the good way I”ve been fucked lately.
The bad way.
Sighing, I close my journal and put it away in the drawer. Today, I’m wearing a long, flowy skirt—a first at work. I decided to take a chance and do something different… but the naughty part of me says I’ve only done it to wear an easy-access outfit. I also didn’t put on underwear, and that makes me feel particularly transgressive.
Maybe after this affair is over, I”ll tell Emma all about it. After I pick up all my pieces on the floor. Fuck. I”ve done it. I”ve fallen in love with Archer Cromwell.
My heart skips a beat. Shit. Leave it to me not to understand the assignment.
Fuck.
”Hey,” Archer says, popping his head out of his office. ”Sarah”s birthday party is in five days.”
Right. I meant to buy the dress not once but twice, but I was deliciously derailed. Or deliciously railed, depending on how you look at it. Then, I totally forgot to do it. Buying branded clothes online has never worked for me.
He walks up closer to my desk. ”What should we get her?”
”She asked for no gifts, remember? If anything, donations should be made in her name to a charity of her choosing. I’ll take care of it.”
He nods, rubbing his hands together. ”Wonderful. Also?—”
I pick a pen from my pen holder and click it. ”Yeah?”
”Buy a new dress for the occasion.”
”Should I use the company credit card?” I ask casually.
Anything and everything I get for him or for me, I have carte blanche to use the company credit card he gave me in my name when I started working for him. But a dress for a date night that doesn”t sound as fake as it once did seems different.
”No. Use mine,” Archer says, reaching into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet, and handing me his black American Express. “Feel free to buy whatever you want.”
I clear my throat. “Whatever I want? What am I, a low-key sugar baby?”
He chuckles. “You’d make an inexpensive sugar baby. Take my credit card and do some damage.”
“You’ll regret it, sugar daddy,” I say playfully.
“I doubt it,” he says.
A rush of affection surges through me when our eyes meet. It’s like we’re in our own little world, and no one else belongs in it. “Daddy,” I tease.
“Watch it,” he says, a delicious edge coating his voice. He closes the distance between us, checks the long hallway to make sure no one is watching, and dips his head to kiss me.
I’m still recovering from the kiss when he disengages, returns to his office, and closes his doors. I touch his credit card and slide it inside my purse. I must be mad to think his personal Amex versus the company card is an undying declaration of love. Couldn’t it be, though? These are modern times. It’s not like Archer will write poems for me. I need to be realistic.
A few minutes later, I will myself to finish some tasks when I hear a female voice as high heels clank through the office.
Archer doesn”t have any in-person meetings for the next two hours. Who could this be? Did Emma not veto people again? No wonder her manager is on her case.
”May I help you?” I ask the stranger. I square my shoulders, recognizing her the closer she gets.
Allegra.
The woman Archer dated before me—the reason he summoned me to that fake date. And now she’s here. Magnificent in her cherry red dress, an expensive designer bag and shoes. Tall and slim, platinum blonde. Damn it. She”s flawless.
”No, you may not,” she says, walking past me. ”I”ll be quick,” she adds and winks at me like I gave her the go-ahead.
I stand and follow Allegra into Archer’s office, awkward as hell. He’s finishing a call as she sweeps in, and he whispers something into the phone before putting it away.
He glances at Allegra, then at me, confused. ”Allegra?”
”Oh, hey, I wanted to see you,” she says, cool as a cucumber, like she didn”t force her way in here.
”I told her you were busy,” I say behind her.
Jealousy trickles down my spine, each drop amplifying my insecurities. Here I am, a few feet from this crazy, beautiful woman who told him off only a few weeks ago. If she hadn”t, would he still be dating her? They went out for three weeks, which, for him, is the equivalent of six months for most people.
”And I told your assistant I”d be quick,” she says, winking at me again. Her condescension drips from her like water from a rain-soaked leaf.
”Hazel, can we have a moment?” Archer asks, and his face doesn”t give anything away.
I wish I could see a trace of annoyance in his expression, but he”s neutral, which means he wants to handle this alone. I nod and leave, closing the door behind me.
Fuck.
I return to my desk, swiveling the chair from one side to the other, fully aware that I won”t be able to focus on anything. Office romances lower productivity, don’t they? I look at my screen and pretend to be doing something. I could always listen behind the door, but my last shred of dignity thankfully keeps my ass glued to my rotating chair.
I message my dad to say hello and check on him, and when he says he”s doing fine, I go back to my screen. I look at the quarterly reports the sales department posted and try to take notes. When I open the drawer, I see my journal and resist the instinct to write.
Ten excruciating minutes drag until she leaves his office, slamming the door and muttering under her breath, ”Asshole.”
The chirpy mood is over, and she doesn”t spare me a glance and struts down the long hallway leading to the elevator.
I watch her disappear, unsure if I”m relieved or worried. Will I be in her position a week from today? Or two?
”Hazel,” Archer calls, swinging open the double doors. He cocks his head, inviting me in. It’s a trait I thought was annoying before but now find endearing.
I take a deep breath, surge to my feet, and make a mammoth effort to show a neutral expression, trying to perfect my poker face the same way he always does. I”m probably failing miserably.
He sits on the leather couch in the corner and gestures for me to do the same.
I sit across from him, legs crossed, in a perfect posture like an evil warden from an all-girls school is keeping tabs on me. ”Yes?”
”Allegra stopped by.”
No kidding.”She sure did.”
”I wanted to tell you I”m not talking to her. I haven”t been since… hmmm, that wrong name incident.”
Relief pours over me. ”Okay.”
”She heard from people we know that I went to Malcolm”s party with a girlfriend and thought she”d ask how long I”d been with this person. She thought that maybe I was already with my girlfriend when, hmmmm, I was seeing her.”
He”s mentioned the word girlfriend so often that my heart rate increases one notch each time. Is he being sarcastic, or is that such a new concept for him? Is it a foreign word, and he can”t quite pronounce it?
A pulse jumps in my neck. I scoot to the edge of the couch, my hands on my crossed legs. ”What did you say?”
”I said I was with my girlfriend. That it happened fast, but I never cheated on her.”
Air is sucked from my lungs. My insides melt, but a part of me reluctantly warns me to be careful. My common sense is the dying light at the end of a firehouse—with each passing breath, I get farther and farther from it. ”Well, good. Our plan worked, right?” I ask, keeping it light, but the emotion coating my words gives me away. ”Everyone believed it was for real.”
”What if I want it to be for real?” Archer asks, looking at me in silence, staring deep into my eyes.
I stare back and see a vulnerability I never thought possible from him. He”s waiting for my answer. He”s… asking me to be his girlfriend. ”Do you?”
”More than anything.”
More. Than. Anything.
Heat radiates from my chest and spreads through every part of me so quickly that it almost knocks me back.
I stand, erasing the couple of steps between us, and sit on his lap, a leg on either side of him, my skirt bunching at my waist. My fingers tremble when I fumble with his pants button, unzipping them and taking out his cock. It quickly grows and thickens in my palm.
“No underwear. You do want to kill me,” he says.
I look at him, and he”s got a quizzical expression on his face, his gaze teetering between fascinated with my actions and confused by them. Well, that makes two of us. Hell, I”m unsure why I”m not saying anything or replying to his question yet. All I want is to get lost in the warmth of him and get his cock buried deep inside me before I answer.
”Hazel…” he starts, a warning in his voice, followed by a low growl.
“Yes, Daddy?” I whisper, remembering our earlier chat. I’ve never had a daddy fetish, but I feel bold and fun and fearless. So Daddy it is.
“Daddy? You’re shameless,” he whispers, a spark of admiration in his eyes.
“Remember how you always said you wanted me to be excellent? Well, there you go.” I position his cock against my opening and sit on it, sliding it all the way in. My inner walls sizzle, and I feel his veins pulsing against me. We”re more connected than we’ve ever been. This exhilarating sensation takes hold of me like a fucking cyclone. I know it won”t take long until I come on his dick in his office. During daylight, like all the times I imagined in my journal.
Except now, it”s real.
Except now, it”s better.
I move, and every shift is enough to send zings of awareness up my body. Warnings.
”That”s it, baby… take what you want,” he whispers, smashing his lips to mine.
This time, I”m the one steering the kiss, swiping my tongue over his, demanding his compliance. Not that he gives me an easy win. No, he teases; he nips my lower lip. But a part of him allows me to dominate right now. I rejoice in my temporary leadership position and bask in every second.
I roll my hips forward and backward, increasing the intensity. Archer slides his fingers into my pussy, coating his fingers with my cream. He withdraws them, and his hand sneaks under the waistline of my skirt. Parting my cheeks, he thrusts the two slick digits inside my asshole.
I”m so turned on that I register the friction, the quick discomfort, but as I move on his cock, the pressure adds to my increasing build-up.
He fucks my pussy and my asshole at the same time, mimicking the rhythm I”m setting on his cock with his fingers. Fast, hard, urgent.
“You like it when Daddy takes care of you, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Pleasure rockets inside me like a cold glass cracking under hot water. I quiver in his arms, still moving, curling my hips, jerking.
Archer kisses my cheek. With a couple of powerful pumps, he comes inside me—hard. He groans as he releases, his cock filling me with his hot load.
”Yes, I”ll be your girlfriend,” I whisper in his ear while we”re still entangled, our breathing slowly returning to normal.
He kisses my cheek. ”Good girl.”
”Does that mean I”ll have to order my own flowers?”
He chuckles, and the hearty sound reverberates through me. ”No.”
I should ask him what being his girlfriend entails. Are we going public? Can I tell people? Should we let the office know? What—what would happen if we broke up? Fear lurks in my chest, but I will it away. Right now is not the time for those questions.