Chapter 10
10
“Ms. Blossom?”
“Yes, sir?” She glanced over at Reuben as he appeared in the doorway between their offices. “I was just about to go get your lunch.”
“Our lunch,” he countered. “Get it from downstairs today.”
She frowned. “But you don’t like the food downstairs.”
“I don’t want you going outside. It looks like it might rain.”
It did?
She glanced out the window. Sure, it looked a bit bleak, but it wasn’t raining.
“That’s an order.”
Faith saluted him as he turned away.
“I saw that!”
Her mouth dropped open. There was no way! He couldn’t have.
Sheesh.
Heading downstairs, she held onto the elevator rail tightly. She’d worked here for nine weeks now and she still struggled with the elevator.
Faith ordered the food from Lou, grateful that she didn’t have any weird concoctions to test on Faith this morning.
Then she headed back upstairs and took Reuben’s food in to him.
“Come and sit with me, Ms. Blossom.”
She stilled in surprise as he got up and walked to the sofa, gesturing to her.
Ever since her run in with Kirsten, things between them had been slightly off.
Sometimes, she caught him staring at her strangely as though he couldn’t quite work her out.
Faith didn’t know what was going on.
“I, um, I was just going to eat at my desk.”
“That’s not good for your digestion. Get your water bottle and sit. I want to make sure you eat and drink.”
Knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, she sat on the other end of the sofa from him. Unwrapping her sandwich, she took a bite and then wrinkled her nose.
“What’s wrong?”
She opened up the sandwich. “Ick. Mustard.”
“You didn’t ask them to not add mustard?” he asked.
“I did. They must have forgot.” Or Lou was too busy talking to her to notice.
Reuben stood. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as she wrapped the sandwich up and stood.
“To get them to make you another sandwich.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
He shot her a look.
Okay. They were going downstairs to get a new sandwich.
As they stood waiting for the elevator, she shuffled her weight from foot to foot.
“I really don’t like to make a fuss,” she told him as the elevator doors opened.
“You’re not. I am.”
That didn’t make her feel better. Actually, she felt worse.
He hit the button for the ground floor. She sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you breathing?” he asked.
“Oh. Shoot.” She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “I don’t like elevators.”
Instead of telling her that she was ridiculous, he did something unbearably sweet.
And so, so bad.
Bad, because she would never be able to forget.
He reached out and drew her close, holding onto her as they descended.
“You take the elevator every day,” he murmured.
“I’m getting better.”
“Little Blossom, I’d hate to see what you were like when you were worse than this.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Really, I am. I’m just nervous about upsetting Lou.”
“Do you like mustard?”
“No.”
The elevator stopped and he let her go. She had to stop herself from latching onto him.
“Did you ask for no mustard?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what you’re going to get.”
He led the way into the café. Lou’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Faith couldn’t figure out the look on her face, though.
“Faith! Something wrong with the sandwich?”
“Oh, it’s really nice?—”
“Faith asked for no mustard and this has mustard in it.” Reuben handed the sandwich over.
Lou stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh, right. Sure! I’ll remake it.”
“If you don’t mind,” Faith said quickly. “I’m so sorry. Thank you!”
Lou hurried off and Faith frowned at Reuben. “You could have said please.”
“Why were you apologizing? She made your sandwich wrong.”
“It was just a mistake. I make them all the time.”
Was that . . . did his lips just twitch?
“Here you are. Sorry, Faith.” Lou handed over the sandwich with another strange look.
But Faith wasn’t up to working out what was going on in her friend’s mind.
It was enough trying to keep up with Reuben.
Something she failed at daily.
Faith looked out at the darkening sky several hours later.
Not good.
Really not good.
Moving to Reuben’s door, she knocked on it.
“Come in.”
“I think we should go home,” she blurted out. It was just after four.
“I have a lot of work to get through. But if you need to get home, then go.”
“No, no. I’m good.” Not really.
She went back to her desk. But she knew she wouldn’t get much done.
Faith really wished that she wasn’t so scared of thunderstorms. It was a silly, irrational fear that she just didn’t know how to get rid of.
So, when the lights flickered out about an hour later, she couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from her.
She dove under her desk, huddling there as she shook.
“Blossom?”
She heard Reuben call out, but she couldn’t make herself answer him.
Suddenly, a light appeared and he crouched down by her desk, holding up his phone.
“Hey, are you all right?”
His voice was so soft. So caring. She blinked, wondering if she was dreaming.
“It’s d-dark.”
“Are you scared of the dark?” he asked.
“Of course. Isn’t e-everyone?”
“The dark isn’t scary. It’s what’s hiding in the dark that’s scary.”
“Not helping! I think I’m gonna pee myself.”
“You won’t pee yourself. Come with me.” He held a hand out to her and she looked at it for a long moment.
“I don’t wanna. It’s safe under here.”
Her thumb was slipping closer to her mouth, and she really wished she had Colin with her. He’d keep her safe.
Or at least he’d never tell anyone if she wet her pants in fear.
Don’t go Little.
Don’t go Little.
It was so hard not to, though. Sometimes, Reuben gave off a Daddy vibe that was difficult to resist.
“You’ll be safe with me, Little Blossom,” he told her. “Now, be a good girl and take my hand.”
Her hand was in his before she could think it through. He led her into his office and over to the sofa.
“Shouldn’t we go home?” Although the idea of taking the bus home in a storm was kind of terrifying.
“The elevator will be out of service and it’s thirty stories up. It wouldn’t be safe to navigate all those stairs in the dark.”
She guessed not.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“We wait for the power to come back on. Don’t worry, the fireplace is gas and doesn’t have an electric ignition.” He started it, and it immediately added light to the room.
“I’m going to find some torches. Stay here.” He moved away.
She followed him.
Turning, he looked down at her. “What are you doing?”
“Following you.”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that. It’s always the person who stays behind that gets attacked.”
“Attacked by who?”
“I don’t know. It might not be who. It might be what.” Yes, she sounded like a crazy person. But that was her theory, and she was sticking to it.
Instead of telling her she was an idiot, though, he simply nodded and wrapped his hand around hers.
Shock held her tongue still as he led her out to the kitchen. There, he found a battery-powered flashlight.
That was strange. Faith thought she’d looked in every cupboard, but she couldn’t recall seeing this lantern.
He turned it on, and it cast off a lot of light.
Taking her hand, he led her back through to her office.
“I’ll just get my phone,” she murmured, grabbing it. After settling back on the sofa in his office, she sent a quick text to Cammie, letting her know where she was.
There was no reply. She hoped her friend was all right.
Reuben grabbed his laptop, and to her surprise, he sat in an armchair next to the sofa.
Faith played a game on her phone for a while, not knowing what else to do. But as the sky darkened, her fear grew, and she knew she had to distract herself.
“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” she asked him.
Reuben frowned, glancing over at her. “Why would you want to know that?”
“I’m asking you questions to get to know you. Things that might take my mind off freaking out and becoming hysterical. Okay? So just tell me. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“Freaking out? It’s not that dark anymore.”
“But there’s a thunderstorm.”
“You don’t like thunder?” he asked.
“Why would I like thunder? Please tell me what your favorite ice cream flavor is.”
“Vanilla.”
She groaned. “Can you please answer truthfully? What if I went to buy you an ice cream, and I got you vanilla?”
“Then I would be happy? Because I had my favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“No one’s favorite flavor is vanilla. You have to choose something else.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t know! It’s just the rule.”
“The whole topic is moot since I’d never send you out to get me ice cream.”
“The Prince of Darkness doesn’t eat ice cream, huh?” she grumbled. “Hard to believe that vanilla ice cream is what they serve in hell. I’m certain Satan’s favorite ice cream is way more interesting. Like rum raisin, or strawberry cheesecake, or dulce de leche. Yeah, the Devil definitely likes a bit of dulce de leche.”
“Do you think I come from Hell?”
“Um. No.” Drat.
“I cannot believe we are having this conversation,” he muttered.
“I can’t believe you love vanilla ice cream.”
“I didn’t say I loved it. I said it was my favorite.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked.
“No, because I don’t really like ice cream. Vanilla is just the least offensive of them all.”
Faith gasped. “What kind of monster doesn’t like ice cream?”
He just shot her a look. “You’re getting very sassy for someone who likes to sit comfortably.”
Huh?
Wait. Was he saying . . . ?
“Hey! You can’t spank me!” What the heck?
“Why not?”
“Um, because I’m your employee and that’s harassment.”
“And what if I decide that you’re no longer my employee?” he asked smoothly.
“You . . . you can’t do that. Are you firing me? I need this job. Is this about me messing up your calendar yesterday? I won’t touch it ever again. I swear.”
“Easy, Blossom,” he soothed. Leaning over, he placed his hand on the back of her neck. “Stop panicking.”
Right. Because she could just stop panicking because he told her to. Contrary to what he seemed to believe, her body wouldn’t just instantly obey him.
Except she was breathing easier. And the panic was fading from her body.
Well, shoot.
How the heck had that happened?
“I’ll let you spank me if you don’t fire me!” she blurted out before thinking about it.
What was she thinking? She didn’t want to be spanked, right?
Hmm. Okay, she had to ponder that. Which wasn’t a good sign.
“Is that so?” he drawled. “You’ll allow me to spank you if I don’t fire you?”
“Y-yes.”
“Interesting proposition. What would I be allowed to spank you for? Being late? Making my coffee incorrectly? Forgetting to change an important appointment?”
Crap.
All things she’d done already. She was a terrible assistant.
“I suppose so,” she said.
“You suppose so?”
Darn, she really was having a conversation with the devil right now.
“You should really know before you offer something like that to someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” she asked.
“Someone who likes to be in charge, in control. Because I’m not the sort of person to turn down an offer like that, Blossom.”
Fudge knuckles.
Yeah, she knew that.
Now all she could think about was going over his lap to get her butt spanked whenever she did something wrong.
This was a slippery, slippery slope. Being attracted to her boss was one thing. Having him put his hands on her . . . that was something else entirely.
He put his laptop aside before crouching down in front of her.
What the heck was happening?
Why had she started this?
Reuben grasped hold of her chin, and tilting her face back, he stared at her intensely.
Then he ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Part your lips.”
Faith opened her mouth, and he sucked in a breath. “You really are a sweet, submissive thing. I bet that even now you’re thinking about me taking you over my knee and spanking you, aren’t you?” He slid two fingers into her mouth. “Suck.”
She sucked on his fingers, moaning as she imagined having her lips around his cock.
Her clit throbbed as her panties grew wet.
This was so wrong. And yet she felt helpless to stop him.
Because you don’t want to.
Then he snatched his fingers free from her mouth and stood, stepping back. She almost followed him, almost begged him to touch her again.
“Your job here isn’t at risk. You don’t have to let me spank you in order to keep it.”
Okay.
That was good. Right?
Of course it was. She didn’t want her job to be contingent on letting him spank her whenever she messed up.
Because she messed up a lot.
“But if you ever want to be spanked,” he added. “Well, that’s a different thing entirely.”