11. Foster #2
“I’m going to become addicted to playing with you this way.
” My lips drag between the valley of her breast to swap the attention that her other nipple deserves from my tongue, and my fingers swap to my other side.
I’m not sure which movement is causing goosebumps on her skin, but a wave of heat passes through her, I can feel it.
Her thighs open, her knee knocking me, the space ready to welcome my cock.
“Please, I have to have you inside me. I’m already almost there.”
I peer up, satisfied with what I’m doing. “Need my cock? I’m not going to deny you from coming on it.”
“Yes! Experiment over, I want you to fuck me the traditional way.”
I bring my mouth up to cover hers, but I hover first, not letting our lips touch, then scraping along her jawline. “Traditional it is. You know, now I get to be inside of my fiancée,” I point out in a hoarse voice.
“You do,” she rasps.
It’s no longer fun and games. It’s her and our future. Her eyes search mine, she’s a mirror of wonder for the future gleaming in our eyes, cautious of our decision, but a profound trust is apparent.
My fingers comb through her hair and stop at the back of her head, clasping her hair tightly but softly. I keep her head in place, her mouth an open canvas for me to kiss.
“We’ll be okay, Sutton,” I whisper the promise.
She nods innocently and shyly. “We will.”
I capture her mouth with full intention of keeping us here all afternoon.
On Monday, I find myself lost in the city's view as Olivia from HR continues to rant about the budget.
“Foster, are you even listening?”
My mind drifts to Sutton and our weekend. The path we’re on feels like it’s finally clicking into place because it’s where we’re meant to be.
Switching my focus, I turn with my hands still in my pockets to see that Olivia is sitting in front of my desk with a facial expression that my grandmother would call snooty. Or it’s just Olivia pissed. When it comes to her, she is a hard egg to crack.
“Yes, I’m listening. Staff budget, overhead, the usual that you bring up at every damn meeting, so how is it different now?”
She gives me a pointed look. “Because, Foster, the staff budget per department needs to be changed based on sickness reporting. I think we have underestimated it for this year. IT has a guy who is out a lot due to carpal tunnel pain, the interns in marketing don’t have the skill to complete the roles, so we need more help, and legal has that mess with Adam out for a few months for health reasons.
Obviously, understandable, but finding a lawyer at the snap of our fingers isn’t easy.
Sutton will most definitely need a raise since she’s taking on more.
Look, the entire company needs a better cushion for staff budgets.
All it takes is one person to say they need maternity leave, and then we need to fill the gaps in staff.
That requires moolah. So please adjust accordingly. ”
Now she has my undivided attention.
My neck cranes at her explanation. “Maternity leave?” Because she pressed a new button that I possess for anything pregnancy-related. “Who might be needing that?” A flare of protectiveness comes to me as I think of Sutton.
She scoffs in astonishment. “Completely inappropriate, Foster. We can’t speculate that kind of thing.”
“Yet, you added it to your spiel.”
“As a generic... Either way, a baby is a blessing, right? But if a baby boom happens, I might hope it isn’t in marketing or legal. The staffing issue is sensitive,” she comments as she adjusts her bracelet.
Rubbing the side of my head, I’m hoping we can wrap this up. “You know, I have others below me that help with the budget. Couldn’t you bother them before coming to me?”
“Nope,” she replies sharply. “Straight to the decision-maker.”
“I’ll have another look, okay? No promises on the budget change.”
Olivia stands, satisfied. “Good. You’re a smart man.” She smiles contritely, then walks out like a woman on a mission.
With every hour, I understand more why Sutton worries about work and maternity leave.
Haven Crossroads offers great benefits—longer paid leave, company daycare, flexibility to work from home.
Still, I imagine Sutton feels like she’s letting the team down or that her job is slipping away. That’s what I picked up from Olivia.
My phone begins to vibrate, and I pull it out to see that my dad is calling.
Damn, he is in for a surprise. But not today.
I swipe decline and send him to voicemail.
This is my cue to take a break, and even though we have great food sent to every staff room, I want to get some fresh air, so I decide to head downstairs to the lobby for a coffee, then walk around and peruse the windows of nearby stores.
Maybe I’ll find something for Sutton to help her stay relaxed as she wraps her head around everything.
As much as I should be doing the same, I’m not the one who is tired and whose body is changing.
Grabbing my coat, I head to the elevator, where I see Olivia is waiting; she must have stopped to talk to someone. She is the type of HR person who is actually friendly to employees, yet a complete shark when dealing with upper management.
“Still wandering the wild?” I ask as I check the light over the doors to see if the elevator is going down.
“Yes, I was hoping to find Elodie to check on updating her file.”
“She’s probably in a meeting.”
Olivia glares at me. “Or with our COO. Really love our leadership team making me use that relationship-disclosure clause.”
My innate need to keep a safety vest around Sutton runs deep. “Why are you saying this to me?” I’m slightly worried.
She shrugs and looks at her cell phone. “What? It’s true. If you ever come to me with the same request, then I’m sure as hell going to ask about what you guys drink on your weekends in Everhope at Julian’s house.”
“That’s oddly specific, Olivia.” I’m a bit irritated.
“I’m also from there, so I have eyes and ears on the ground as my sources,” she mentions casually, yet she probably puts them to use.
The doors open, and I’m greeted by chance with the woman who will be my wife.
There is the guy from compliance, a college-aged intern, along with Sutton, whose eyes find mine, and that tiny smile forms, only to vanish when her gaze sidles to Olivia.
She swallows her nerves as Olivia and I step inside.
“Hello.” Olivia’s cheery tone is a 180-degree change from her venomous mood before she entered.
Everyone replies politely, and we all look forward as the elevator doors close, only for them to be stopped when Easton puts his hand in to prevent the doors from moving.
“Room for one more?” he says and enters then jabs a button.
“I’m not sure anybody answered your question, Easton,” Olivia remarks pointedly.
“Good day to you too,” he responds.
The car goes quiet as it begins to move down.
The quiet is stiff. Awkward. And it doesn’t run past me that Sutton and I are stuck in an elevator with HR.
“It’s Monday. Office catering always prepares the best salads on Monday,” Olivia says to break the silence.
Who the fuck cares what’s on the menu?
As I stand, my hanging hand is near Sutton’s. My pinky twitches against hers, and she doesn’t pull away. Nobody would notice, but we do.
I’m trying not to let a tiny smile creep up.
Because our situation is possibly brewing a hurricane that will land in the office.
And those are never good.