Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Colt
Closing the door behind me, I walk through my office toward the cabinet at the far wall of my office and fix myself a glass of whiskey, take a long drink of it, then drop into the seat at my desk.
It’s been days since we got back, and I still can’t kick this jetlag. It’s getting in the way of a lot of things, like the back-to-back meetings I’ve had all damn day.
Pulling myself closer toward the desk, my knees knock into something.
“What the fuck?”
I roll the seat back to look beneath the desk, and see Rowan’s innocently smiling face looking up at me, eyelashes fluttering. The sight of her on her knees is enough to send my mind fucking reeling.
“What are you doing down there?” I laugh.
She shrugs. “You sounded stressed. I thought I might help.”
Her hands grip the wheels of the chair and she rolls me closer to her until she’s nestled herself snugly between my thighs, letting her hands roam freely over them.
“Rowan,” I warn.
With a feline smile, she tells me, “I want to make you feel good.”
I pull my drink to my lips as she slowly works to unfasten my belt and the button of my slacks, then she takes her time pulling down their zipper. I grunt as she reaches for my cock, already solid and desperate for relief, to free it from my slacks.
Her lips press a soft kiss to the head of it and I’m forced to surrender any sense of control I thought I had when I walked in here, leaning my head back against my chair as she carefully takes my dick into her mouth.
She expertly swirls her tongue over my tip, forcing me to stifle a groan before pulling more of me into her mouth with a delicate whimper.
Eyes closed, I scrub a hand down my face and whisper, “Jesus, Rowan.”
I reach down to grab at the back of her head, snapping to attention when a knock sounds at the door, followed by Davis sauntering into the room.
“I got Logan and the crew on standby to get those repairs lined up this week. Just need your autograph on this,” he tells me, sliding a clipboard across my desk.
With Rowan’s mouth still on me, her movements ceased, I quickly grab a pen and scribble my name on the designated line, not bothering to even skim through the contract, and I send the board sliding back across the desk.
“Tell them we’ll be in touch by end of business today,” I instruct, my tone clipped.
“Gonna read through that at all, or…?”
“No,” I snap. “We’ve worked with them long enough.”
“Alright,” he says, throwing one hand up in surrender while grabbing the clipboard with the other. “I’ll give ‘em a call, then.”
He tucks the board under his arm and moves toward the door, stopping as he pulls it closed behind him.
“Oh, and hi, Rowan,” he says over his shoulder. “I like the shoes.”
Fuck.
The second the door clicks shut behind him, I shove myself from the desk, pulling myself away from Rowan’s perfect mouth, then stand and shove my cock back into my pants and zip them up.
“Get out of there,” I order her.
She quickly crawls out from under the desk and stands, dusting off her knees, clearly in a panic.
“What do we do?”
What we should have done in the first place – stay the fuck away from each other. But it’s too late for that, now, isn’t it?
If I had a time machine, I would go back and never even take a second look at her. No, that’s a lie. I would do it all over again, and I damn well know it.
“I’ll handle him,” I say. “But this cannot happen at work.”
“This as in, this?” She asks, gesturing toward the desk. “Or as in, this?” She now meekly gestures between the two of us.
“Either. Both,” I tell her firmly.
She plucks a tissue from the box at the corner of my desk and wipes her mouth with it, then fixes me with a look that tells me I’ve said something wrong.
“So, only at home and in foreign countries,” she says.
“Rowan.”
“No, I just want to be clear.” She sits on the edge of the desk and crosses her arms. “You’re happy to have sex with me and call me baby when we’re at home, but anywhere else, it’s game over?”
“That’s oversimplifying it a little bit, don’t you think?” I challenge. “This is our place of work.”
“Uh-huh.” I don’t miss the sarcasm or the venom dripping from her tone. Hopping off of the desk, she reaches for her water bottle and steps toward the door of the office. “I’m gonna go fill up my water, Mr. Fowler.”
“Rowan, we can—”
Her hand flies up to cut me off. “Don’t.”
In a breath, she’s out the door, slamming it shut behind her. I slump back into my chair and reach for what’s left in my glass, downing it like it’s a shot, then I step out and make my way through the building until I reach Davis’ office and rap my knuckles against the door frame.
Stepping inside, I close the door behind me.
“We need to talk about what you saw.”
He pulls back the cuff of his jacket and looks at his watch before fixing me with an appraising look. “Wow, it’s only been three minutes. That was a little fast, old man. Should we be worried about you?”
“Davis, I’m serious.” I take a seat across from him and cross an ankle over my knee. “This isn’t one of your little office flings.”
“No,” he drawls. “It’s yours, and that, my friend, is far more interesting. I knew you were doin’ her, but at the office?” He almost looks impressed.
“Do I ask a lot of favors from you?”
He shrugs. “Eh. Once a year to keep me on my toes.”
“I’m asking you to do me a favor and not say a word about this – to Rowan or to anyone else, in the office or otherwise.”
“Well shit,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you actually have real feelings for this girl, Fowler?”
“She’s—” I hesitate, “refreshing. And she’s been through a lot, so I don’t want to see her hurt by office gossip. This is— she matters.”
“Alright,” he says with a nod. “But you owe me some information.”
I spend the next twenty minutes telling him how the hell I got myself into this mess, how I fell in love with my twenty-fucking-one-year-old assistant, and how it got so out of hand so quickly.
For the first time in years, he doesn’t make comments or jokes about the situation, even when I skip over the details I know he’s dying to hear, because I don’t want to say anything that would possibly embarrass Rowan further if any of this conversation got back to her.
She’s already had enough embarrassment today, and I’m sure I didn’t help with that when I fucking scolded her.
As I recount the events that brought me to this moment, realization slams into me like a ton of bricks, knocking me off of my feet. I am so fucking in love with this girl – and I am absolutely terrified to lose her.
Though I know in the back of my mind that I have, up to this point, done everything exceptionally wrong, I can’t say that I would do it any differently, given the chance.
Well, any of it except for what I said to her in my office.
I would handle that a thousand different ways, if I hadn’t been in a panic myself.
I wanted to protect her, and wound up hurting her – again.
Failure is not something I’m used to, and it isn’t sitting well with me.