Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
LOGAN
I spend the next five days stubbornly focusing my attention anywhere except on Piper. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy between client meetings, PR, social media posts, product research, and tinkering with investments. Much of my work involves long reading sessions, journal articles, books—whatever I can get my hands on related to mine and our client’s businesses.
I work sixteen-hour days for the next five, which isn’t unusual, but the reason is. I’d walk across hot coals if it meant I could get some rest from my thoughts.
The second I stop, even for a moment, I see Piper. I see her thick, bare thighs, the pencil skirt cutting into her juiciness, feel her hand against mine, hear her sighs, which become moans, and then the fantasies spiral into pure, unstoppable hunger.
On the sixth day, I sit in my office, feeling dog-tired. I’ll need to slow down at some point.
Clive buzzes through. “Milo here for you, Mr. Wolfe.”
Milo is the team leader of Forever Love. “Concerning what?”
“He says it’s the routine new employee meeting… I can reschedule if you like?”
Ah, that’s right. I take a hands-on approach, which means I always review how new employees are settling in after a few days.
“Send him in.”
The meeting is brief, and once Milo’s gone, I have learned nothing new. Piper is a hard worker. She’s passionate and enthusiastic. She’s keen to do her job well.
The night she got the job, I lost control. That’s the reason why I’ve worked so damn hard these past five days, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
I was texting her late at night, lying in bed, my length already stiff, my passion burning so hot, I couldn’t quench it. I didn’t even want to, not in that moment.
I was thinking about her in bed, and then I lost it. Stroking my hand down my body, I wrapped it around my throbbing length. I told myself I’d only do it for a couple of minutes and wouldn’t let my mind go that far.
But before I knew it, I was pumping my precome-slick hand up and down my cock. My mind flooded with vivid fantasies of Piper. I imagined her on the desk, her pencil skirt hiked up around her wide, delicious hips, shifting her thighs back and forth as she ground against me.
I imagined leaning down and tearing her shirt with my teeth, her plump mounds spilling free, then tearing her bra and letting her tits bounce for me. I imagined sucking her nipples, kissing, and biting them softly. All the while fucking her hard and fast, making the desk shake, her moans turning frantic as her walls tightened and pulsed around my dick.
I knew I had to stop, but I couldn’t. Soon, hot come was gushing out of my tip, my body humming with my release, with the wrongness of it.
It’s been five days, and so far, I’ve avoided doing that again.
Fucking yay for me .
My cell buzzes. It’s Piper. My heart twitches. My body aches.
Piper: Sorry to bother you, Logan, but I was wondering if I could ask for your advice.
Grinding my teeth, I think about the answer I should give.
It’s simple. No .
I’m the CEO of the entire company. A junior copywriter has no business texting me directly. But I’m the one who started this game, and even if I know I should, I don’t want to end it.
Logan: Go ahead, Piper.
Piper: I’ve got an idea for Forever Love, but I’ve just started. It’s more of a product development idea than a copywriting one. Do you think it would be reasonable for me to pitch it to Milo?
I can feel her passion through the text.
Logan: What’s the idea?
Piper: I don’t want to go over Milo’s head.
Logan: All you need to worry about is doing what your CEO tells you, Piper.
I send it before I give myself time to realize what a jerk move that is. But maybe it’s better if she thinks I am a jerk. It’ll save heartache down the line.
Before she can reply, my phone rings. It’s Elliot. Because, of course, it goddamn is. The universe needs to remind me what an ass I’m being by thinking about his perfect, curvy, beautiful, passionate little sister.
“Yeah?” I say, answering.
“What’d you mean, yeah ?” he says. “Where are you?”
“Where…” I trail off. I haven’t been getting enough sleep. Last night, Elliot called and told me about a meeting with a potential client. “My bad, bro. You’re at The Clam, right?”
“Yes, like we arranged.”
“Relax. It’s just across the street. Is he there yet?”
“No.”
“Then no harm done. Sit tight.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, Logan.”
“Elliot, is something wrong?” I ask.
My mind goes to the predictable place it always strays to. I’ve known this man since before he was a man. We were both lost kids in the system, watching each other’s backs, relying on each other to make it out of our fucked-up situations. We did it, too, and now look at us.
But I’ve put a wedge between us, even if it’s one only I’m aware of.
“I’m fine. See you soon.”
He hangs up, and I don’t believe him one bit. Walking to the elevator, I look down at my phone, at the douchebag text I just sent. I want to follow up on it and tell Piper I’m sorry, but that also feels like it would mean crossing some strange line.
No matter what I do, I constantly feel like I’m existing in some awkward in-between space. All I need to do, realistically, is stop having steamy fantasies about my best friend’s sister. It shouldn’t be that difficult. It shouldn’t make me feel like I’m losing my mind.
Piper: So that’s an order then, is it, Mr. Boss?
I read her latest text, which is sassy and sarcastic, and my mind is spinning madly around as I process what I’m reading. Is she flirting with me? Without her tone to guide me, it’s impossible to come to any conclusions about her intent.
Logan: It is. What’s your idea?
The elevator opens on the ground floor, leaving me free to walk across the lobby. I don’t want to see Elliot. That’s the cruel truth. I don’t want to look my best friend in the eye when I’m excited about flirting with his sister.
Piper: I’m thinking of calling it ‘match mode.’ Basically, when you feel comfortable with somebody, you give them access to your phone through the app. It’s like a screen share. You can seamlessly share photos and videos and watch movies together—anything you can do on one phone can be shared. In this digital age, it would allow people to feel together without being physically together. As I said, it’s far from being a copywriting idea.
I reply, leaving the building and narrowly missing somebody zipping by on a scooter. Working in SoMa, you get a sixth sense of these things.
Logan: It’s a great idea. I can imagine it having a broad appeal.
Piper: I suppose I should be happy you ORDERED me to share the idea with you, Mr. Boss.
Logan: If we’re going down the nickname route, I need to think of one for you.
I grit my teeth, then delete the message.
I can’t go there. Fucking hell. It happens so quickly, so effortlessly. Any time we talk, it’s like three years melt away, and I’m back at her party, my hands on her, my thoughts clouded by her.
Tucking my phone away, I walk into The Clam, the local seafood restaurant.
Elliot stands, seeming jittery.
“What’s up with you?” I say.
“Huh? Nothing.” He offers me his knuckles for a fist bump, but I don’t have time to knock fists before he takes a vape from his back pocket. It has a Do It All sticker on it. “Do you mind if I head outside? Sal isn’t here yet.”
“Elliot—”
But he’s already rushing through the restaurant. I watch him go, wondering if he somehow knows about me and his sister. But I haven’t even discussed it with her since she came home. So how would he know? And surely she would’ve mentioned it when we were texting.
Or maybe – what a revelation – not everything is about that.
Our usual server approaches me. Toby is young, studying to be a graphic designer, and has a black-and-white kitten tattoo above his left eye. “Coffee, Mr. Wolfe?”
“Thanks, Toby.”
I text, knowing I need to end this early before it can begin, or I’ll let it spiral out of control.
Logan: What’s with the ‘Mr. Boss’ stuff?
Piper: Sorry, Logan. I was just having a little fun. I’ll keep it professional.
Logan: It’s probably for the best, Piper.
Piper: Trust me. I understand that pushing boundaries is a bad idea, Logan. I learned that lesson well a long time ago.
A long time ago, is she talking about the kiss? That was three years ago, hardly a long time. To me, maybe. But to her, it must’ve felt longer. I need to remember her lack of experience and the role I need to play.
I’m not just her boss. I’m supposed to be the mature one. I reply because a CEO wouldn’t delve deeply into that topic.
Logan: Fair enough. Have you thought about the data implications of your idea?
I thank Toby when he brings me my coffee. Through the restaurant’s glass window, around ‘The Clam’ stenciled onto the glass, I can see Elliot pacing back and forth, clouds of vape smoke following him.