Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Opal
The movie screening was great.
The screen of my phone, however, is not great.
I've got about 6700 missed calls from Mr. Lennox.
I call him as soon as I get back into the car. It goes to voicemail. I can imagine him going crazy trying to get to me. It's kind of a turn-on. Only a crazy person calls that many times.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzes with a text from him.
My office.
Shoot. I think I might be in trouble.
I run my thumb over the message the whole ride back, my heart galloping through my chest, unmoored, my stomach churning over and over again.
His words are doing a real number on me.
His frank, direct command - my office - is so hot.
I feel like I'm going to get the back seat of this convertible wet.
I swallow thickly and move my hips a little, the thong that he gave me soaked through, the string between my ass cheeks sticking to my body from how wet I am.
The trip back to the office seems to take forever. I'm surprised to see that he isn't waiting for me outside the elevators.
I square my shoulders and make a beeline for his office with my palms sweating and my knees feeling weak.
His door is open. The sun casts golden rays onto him, accentuating his scruffy beard and
deep green eyes. His jaw is clenched as he looks down at his desk, his big hands pressed flat atop it.
I knock softly and he raises his eyes to meet mine.
"Am I in trouble?" I blurt out.
He lets out a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he looks me up and down, seeming to not notice my question.
"No," he finally says with a throaty rasp. "Please come in."
I shuffle inside, lingering by the doorway.
I can’t believe I haven't had the chance to see inside his office yet.
It is the perfect encapsulation of this man, all hard lines and leather, dark wooden tones, and a bar cart in the corner with a bottle of dark brown liquor.
I'm surprised that he has just one glass on it. This man drinks alone? I suppose so.
I close the door behind me as my cheeks flush with warmth and my pulse trembles.
"Please," he says, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Have a seat."
"This is all your fault," I say, sinking into the cushion of the big leather chair and crossing my legs. "I hope you know that."
His lips lift at the corners.
"They made me give up my phone." I look at him blankly. "You set me up. You put me in a situation where you knew the only outcome would be my grave act of insubordination."
"I did no such thing." He rises to his feet, voice dropping to a raspy whisper. His hands come down on the desk, splayed flat, as he towers over me. "Sounds like you set me up. Sounds like you're looking for a reason to be punished."
"Oh boy," I whisper.
There's a tiny smile on his lips, but the look in his eyes remains dominant and intense, like he wants to spit candy-flavored venom on me.
"Go to your office until I give you further instructions."
I swallow thickly and nod, clenching my thighs together.
"Okay."
I walk into the hallway, holding my phone tight to my chest. Before I can even get back to my own office, my phone buzzes.
Don't let anything like that happen again , the words on the screen read. I expect you to take this job more seriously from this point forward.
I step into my office and lock the door behind me, my heart fluttering.
I sit down at my desk, typing out a million different things I might be able to say to my new boss, but they all sound dumb.
Are you going to keep me up all night? I make the best espresso in town. Want a taste? ;-*
I delete all of that. It's a lie anyway. I'm more of a tea drinker.
I'll try again.
Lonely tonight? I can come over and keep you company.
Again, no.
So I reply with something that just feels right.
Talk to you tonight.
Yes. That sounds right.
Get a good meal in you, he texts back. Whatever you want. Buzz the lobby and they'll arrange it.
I lean back in my chair and smirk. I've got a perfect response to that.
The only thing I want in me is you.
But I delete that too, putting my phone face-down on the desk and shutting my eyes. He never said I had to text him back. All I have to do is answer when he calls.
I squeeze my thighs together, trying to suppress the ache between them. Ever since I met him, my body has been in a constant state of arousal. The way he looked at me—like he wanted to devour me whole—has left me burning.
I close my eyes and imagine his hands on me, strong and sure, tracing every curve of my body. My nipples harden beneath my blouse at the mere thought. I've never wanted someone so desperately before. It's like a fever in my blood, making me restless and wet.
I wonder if he knows what he does to me. How when he speaks in that deep, commanding voice, it sends shivers straight to my core.
I hope he calls soon.
The anticipation is killing me.