Chapter 10
10
LINCOLN
J ust before I get out of my car, my phone rings. My mother. Again. I don’t know how many times I have to ignore her for her to get the message. I don’t talk to my family much anymore. Maybe the occasional stop in for a special occasion to show my gratitude for them keeping me alive when I was a kid. Other than that, I don’t have much to be grateful for where they are concerned.
I walk into the sports complex for a much-needed game of basketball. The guys are sitting on the bleachers as they tie their shoes. I throw my bag next to Sawyer on one of the bleachers.
“Hey, man.” He slaps me on the back. “Sorry I missed you the other day. I wish I were there to celebrate your success. Two months with the same assistant is big for you.”
Just the mention of her …
God, what the hell is going on with me? I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. The reaction I had to her fingers on me when she was doing something as simple as tying my tie … whatever I felt between the two of us when she got that close was completely foreign to me.
I’m sure it’s just some perverse effect from all the talking back to me she seems to do these days. It’s like I’ve never been challenged, and my body seems to like it. Maybe I need to find a woman who challenges me. That’ll fix everything.
The only problem is that all the other women in the city just try to please me. All they see are a bunch of dollar signs and the lavish lifestyle I can offer them.
I lace up my sneakers and grab a ball. On the court, we shoot around together to warm up on our side while the other team does the same on the opposite end of the court.
I focus on my form as I jump and let go of the ball at the perfect moment, watching it hit the rim, then bounce in. There are six of us guys who play together, but only five play at a time. That works for us. We’re not as young as we once were, and basketball is a strenuous sport. We rotate who sits out and catches their breath before going back in the game.
Dean sets up next to me and takes a shot. He was also not able to make it to my office the other day. I’m waiting for a comment that I know is coming.
“You know, I missed being at your office for the celebration, but I was there at the club that night. That woman has a body I’d kill to get my hands on.”
Before I realize what I’m doing, I take my basketball and hurl it into his stomach. He falls over as he releases a guttural groan.
“What the fuck was that for?” he whimpers in pain.
I don’t back down. Instead, I walk closer to him and meet him face-to-face, only inches apart. “Talk about my assistant like that again, and you will regret it.”
I think I’ve scared him. I’ve shown him just what will happen to him if he utters those words ever again, but I’m wrong.
He smiles at me and arches his eyebrow. “Hey, fellas. I think our man has caught some feelings for his assistant.”
Walker doesn’t miss a beat. He concentrates on his shot while replying, “Oh, I know. I saw it the moment we walked into the office, and he gave us the death stare while we flirted with her.”
His shot goes in, and then he turns to me and winks. My blood is boiling at his admission of flirting with her. I knew it. I knew he was looking at her a little too fondly.
Once the game starts, we shake hands with the other guys. All successful businessmen in the city, looking for a way to blow off some steam.
Halfway into the game, we’re up by eight, and Walker fakes a pass to me before he takes a layup straight to the basket and sinks the ball.
“That’s why I’m the best. What’s your excuse, Lincoln? Too distracted, thinking about your assistant?”
I grab the bottom of my shirt and lift it to my forehead, wiping off the sweat dripping down my face. “Watch it,” I warn.
Colton comes up and slaps me on the back. “Don’t be embarrassed. But it’s totally obvious. You’ve got that look going on right now.”
I call a time-out and grab my water bottle. “What look are you referring to?”
“You know,” he replies breathlessly, “the one that says, I can’t stop thinking about her in all different kinds of dirty scenarios even though I don’t want to .”
“You are totally off base,” I reply sharply.
“Are we?” Colton jumps in. “You nearly bit my head off for just talking to her the other day.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s because you were being obnoxious and overly friendly. I didn’t want you to scare her.”
“Oh, so you were being protective of her,” he replies with a mischievous smirk.
“I was not being protective of her. I was just trying to make sure you didn’t chase off the only assistant I actually …” I stop myself before the words can leave my mouth.
Fear clutches my throat as I realize what I was about to say.
“The only assistant you actually what?” Walker pushes me. “The only assistant you actually like?”
I toss my water bottle on the ground and walk onto the court. I’m done listening to their bullshit. They’re getting in my head now. So, I like my assistant. Not in any sexual way. It’s just nice that she doesn’t seem to be after my money or impressed by my looks. I’m just a regular asshole boss in her mind.
I play like total shit the rest of the game. My guys have completely distracted me. We still manage to come out with a win, but no thanks to me.
Even on my ride home, my mind wanders off to thoughts of my assistant.
When I close my eyes, I see her in that damn black bodysuit, which has haunted my thoughts for weeks now. Her breasts are perfect. They are enough to fill my hands. I wonder what her nipples look like. What color are they? Are they a darker brown or a pale pink?
My dick stirs in my pants.
This is not my fault. This is the guys getting in my head and my assistant being too defiant.
That’s it. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to demand she stay in line, like my other assistants. Her boldness is messing with me, and I can’t have any of it.