Chapter 26
Brynne
It was easier yesterday when we fell asleep. I was able to wake up and take my faux anger out on him. It was easy to blame him for everything, even though I wanted it and enjoyed it more than I had any right to.
Now, all I can do is stare at him as I think of my plan of attack, but nothing comes to mind. His hand covers one of my breasts, and he squeezes it before he takes the stiff nipple in his mouth. He sucks, blows on it, and sucks it again. I close my eyes and slide my fingers through his hair. I could sit here and do this all day. His hair is so soft between my fingertips, and his scent has a calming effect.
Then I remember how he lied to me and stole my job. “Get off me,” I say.
“You’re the one who’s on me,” he says with my nipple still in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, bites, and pulls it. I swat at his head, and when he reaches for my wrist, I lose my balance, slide off his lap, and fall on my ass just like I did yesterday.
“This is the worst case of déjà vu I’ve ever had. I told you to keep your dick to yourself.” I stand quickly and put myself back together. My panties are soaked, and he’s still leaking out of me. “What the hell did you call me in here for?” I ask.
I spot my scarf on the floor and bend down to pick it up. He snatches it before I can and holds it up in the air as a victory before he gently wraps it around my neck. I blush at the memory of how I got those love bites.
“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he says. I busy myself with finding my shoes, giving him my back in the process. He doesn’t speak while I take my time putting them on. Once I’m done, he puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me around. “I enjoyed it,” he says softly. “I want more of it. Like every day for the rest of my life.” My eyes widen at his audacity. “But last time, right?” He doesn’t sound like he believes it.
“The absolute last time,” I insist. Once I’m put back together, I stand straight and look at him.
“Why?” he asks.
“Why what?”
“Why does it have to be the last time?” His voice is low and almost sounds sincere. He looks me directly in the eyes as he waits for my answer.
“Because you deceived me,” I say as if it’s the most obvious answer.
“Only I didn’t.” He takes a step closer, and I take one back.
I shake my head, and he stops walking toward me. He looks away, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he washurt.
He’s back to being immaculately dressed. He sure is well dressed for a man who wore nothing but Crocs and acted like he didn’t own a shirt.
The office is business casual, but he doesn’t wear anything other than a designer suit. His idea of dressing down is not wearing a tie, and he’s traded in his Crocs for Tom Fords.
“Have you had a chance to think about Ernestine’s promotion?” I stand straighter and do my best to sound authoritative. I also pray he stops questioning why we can’t be together.
“Under no circumstances will Heath report to her. He’s my hire, and I’m his direct manager. That does not change. He doesn’t need to go to her for anything. He comes to me, and my word is law where he’s concerned. Otherwise, I’ll look at the req again before I approve it.”
I exhale in relief. Heath not reporting to Ernestine is likely a blessing in disguise since I won’t have to play mediator. “Thank you,” is all I can think to say before I leave his office. I feel his eyes on me as I open the door, and after one glance back, I close the door behind me.
I stop at the bathroom to clean myself up and wipe my underwear and lady parts as best as possible. If I weren’t absolutely sure this would be the last time, I’d leave a change of underwear in my office, but that would be a waste. After washing my hands and wiping off what’s left of my lipstick, I find Ernestine at her desk.
“Good news,” I whisper. “He says he’s going to approve your promotion.” She stops what she’s doing, looks up at me, and starts to fan her face. That’s another thing about her. She will burst into tears at anything. You can count on her to cry whether it’s bad or good news, but she knows only to do it in front of me.
She stands from her chair and takes me in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so thankful, but I know it must have hurt to ask that thief. But I’m so happy. Let me treat you to lunch tomorrow.”
“We’ll have lunch, but I’m treating. Now, let me go.”
She laughs and releases me from the hug.
“You should have seen that little pencil neck making fancy coffee for everyone but me. He made a show of it and added this special cream he ordered from some dairy farm in Wisconsin. Or so he says. It’s probably from Stop & Shop. I bet he lies a lot because how can he afford custom-made cashmere cardigans on his salary?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna get him back, don’t worry. And it’s going to be good.”
“Maybe tone it down a bit. Kincaid is extremely protective of that little twerp.” We both giggle at the nickname, but it is odd that he’s so protective of him even though he just started. It’s also strange how he was able to hire someone so quickly—but that’s not my problem. As soon as Heath screws something up, I’ll let Milton know, and he’ll be gone.
“Another thing you should be aware of,” I say. “When your promotion becomes official, you’ll probably have to report to him and not me anymore.”
“Oh, goddamn it.”
“So, I’m guessing by April first. The fifteenth at the absolute latest,” the handsome man before me says. He’s the contractor I hired to do the work on the house. He’s about six-foot-three with dark brown eyes and skin. He flashes me as mile, and I feel goosebumps. “Whatever architect you hired was very thorough, and we have our work cut out for us. We basically had to gut and redo all three floors. Plus, there will be a finished basement.”
“I’m the architect,” I say.
His smile widens. “You don’t say. I knew you were smart. Smart and beautiful.”
I turn into a schoolgirl and bat my eyes. “Thank you, Sonny.”
He takes me from the first floor back to the basement and back to the second and third floors. The best part was looking at his butt those few times I had to walk behind him. The second best part was when he held his hand out to help me walk through the unfinished floor.
“Maybe next time, Ms. Brynne, those high heel boots aren’t such a good fit to do a walk through in a house still under construction.” I giggle like a teenager and nod like a brainless idiot.
“It looks great,” I say. “Thanks for meeting with me. I will make a few minor changes to the plans and send them to you by Monday.” Since I have no life, and it’s Saturday, I’ll spend the rest of the weekend working on it.
We shake hands again, and I’m disappointed when I don’t feel the same surge of electricity I experience each time I get close to Kincaid.