Chapter 8 Roman
EIGHT
ROMAN
“Good morning, Maggie.”
“Good morning, Mr. Reeves.”
Maggie goes through our daily routine of handing me any messages and files I might need for the day, then heads back behind her desk while I make my way toward my office.
Before I disappear into the hallway, I remember something and call back over my shoulder.
“Oh, Maggie, when Ms. Paige gets in, can you ask her to see me right away? I need to talk to her before we head over to the courthouse.”
“She’s already here, sir.”
That stops me. I turn back, noting the time on my watch and wondering if I’ve somehow come in an hour late. “What time did she get in?”
“Oh, well before me. She usually is, though.”
I’m not happy to hear this. She also works late more often than not, staying until I kick her out when I leave around eight.
Striding down the hall, I poke my head into Addison’s office.
Her head is bent low, pen resting on the pillow of her bottom lip as she studies the file in front of her.
As always, I ignore the gut-punch I feel every time I see her.
“Addison.” She lifts those blue-green eyes to me then smiles wide, nearly slaying me in the process. Hold firm, asshole. “Can I see you in my office, please?”
I don’t wait for her to answer before continuing on my path.
She’s right on my heels, though, and I hear the door click shut before I even reach my desk.
We both take our respective seats, and I take a minute to study her.
She looks striking in a black sleeveless top, white pants made of a flowy material, and strappy black heels.
Her hair is pulled away from her face with silver barrettes that match the bangle bracelets on her left wrist. Addison is always the picture of perfection, whether at the office or at the night club.
Shit, my brain does not need to bring up memories of a dark purple dress and fuck-me boots.
I clear my throat and try to regather my thoughts while she stares at me expectantly, poised at the ready, with pen hovering over the legal pad resting on her crossed legs.
Leaning forward, I fold my hands on my desk and notice the blue file folder—Addison prefers them to the “hideously boring” manila variety—placed neatly in the center.
“What’s this?” I ask as I open it.
“Oh, that’s the case research for the Anderson case you requested.”
I arch a brow at her. “Addison, I told you on our way out last night that you could work on it today.”
“I know, but there’s a good chance you’ll need me to follow up with things for the Meyer trial after we get back from court, so I figured it was best I take care of that right away.”
“You figured wrong.”
She frowns, a crease marring her smooth forehead. “Excuse me?”
I almost growl in frustration at her polite professionalism.
It’s better that she has it, but sometimes I wish she’d drop the veil and reveal the wildcat I know her to be.
Every so often I can see her holding back the sarcastic remark or biting comment that comes natural to her, and instead she offers me a diluted version that a church girl would use.
Drives me fucking crazy, and not in the good way.
I’ve never met a woman I wanted to either fuck or strangle so much in my entire life.
Working with Addison has been an exercise in torture and has stretched my willpower so thin I’m afraid it’ll snap.
Weekends are my time to get my shit together and shore up my defenses before enduring another five days of wanting to pin her against the ten-foot windows of my office and fuck her in full view of the entire city.
“This is why I called you in here.” Closing the file, I jab a finger at it. “This is the kind of thing I don’t want you doing.”
“You don’t want me doing my job? I don’t understand. I’m working really hard—”
“Exactly,” I interrupt. “But you’re working too hard. You’re here late, in early, and if I were a betting man, I’d say you’re also working at home.” She blushes and drops her gaze to the legal pad in her lap. “That’s what I thought.”
I stand, round my desk, and lean back against it in front of her.
Crossing my arms, I give her my stern “I’m your boss so listen up” look.
“I need you to work less hard.” Christ, I really need to stop using that word before I end up demonstrating it.
“If you keep going like you are, you’re going to burn out, and then you’ll be no damn good to me. ”
“I have a hard time believing I’m doing anything you haven’t done. It’s not like you’re packing your stuff up at five o’clock every night, and you can’t tell me you don’t check your email from home.”
“Yes, I work late most nights, but when I go home at seven or eight, I don’t start working again from my couch.
Do I check emails? Of course. I want to make sure I’m not missing anything urgent.
But again, I’m not taking my caseloads home with me if I can help it, and on the weekends, I make sure I get plenty of downtime.
Whether that’s going out with friends, hitting the gym, or indulging in Netflix marathons, it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s not work.
So from now on, I need you to have a better balance between your work and personal life. Understand?”
I watch her struggle not to argue. Addison is probably the most ambitious young attorney I’ve ever known.
She’s driven like the hounds of hell are nipping at her heels, and I’m not exaggerating when I say she’ll burn herself out.
It might take six months, a year, or even longer, but if she keeps this up, it’s inevitable.
And I can’t let that happen. It won’t be good for the firm.
It sure as shit won’t be good for her. As her superior—and friend—it’s my job to protect her from herself.
Her eyes spark with blue fire, a clear sign she’d like to tell me I can go fuck myself, but she refrains from voicing that suggestion. Instead, she gives me a stiff nod and says, “Yes, sir.”
Fucking hell and damnation. The reluctant delivery doesn’t matter, my dick literally jumps to hear such sublime capitulation slide from the wildcat’s lips. I only wish it were in answer to any number of commands I’ve imagined giving her, each more carnal than the last.
I want to whisper that she’s a good girl, knowing she’ll love it as much as she resents it.
I want to praise her, reward her. With my tongue, my hands, and eventually, my cock.
But those things are never going to happen.
The sooner my cock gets that through his thick head, the better.
“Good,” I say, sounding like I swallowed gravel.
“I have some last minute prep to do before we head to the courthouse. I’ll let you know if I need you for anything. ”
Addison stands and walks in the direction of the door.
My gaze instantly locks onto her ass. The material of her pants is thin and molds to her globes perfectly before the wide legs drop in straight lines to swish around her ankles.
No panty lines. Not even the hint of a whale tail at the top that would give away the presence of a thong.
The woman is walking around commando. Getting her aroused would make an obvious wet spot in the juncture of her thighs, letting other men know her pussy already belongs to another. Me.
“Jesus, Reeves, stare any harder and you might actually melt the woman’s pants off.”
My office door closing—with my partner on this side of it—cuts off my line of sight and yanks me back from the rabbit hole my depraved mind was falling into. Cursing under my breath, I round my desk once again and drop into my chair as I scrub my hands over my face.
Coop sits in one of the guest chairs and crosses an ankle over the opposite knee, relaxed and more than a little amused. “It’s a good thing she’s not my type or you might be tempted to actually piss on her.”
“I have no intentions of marking Addison as mine, literally or metaphorically.”
“Could have fooled me. What’s the real story with you two, anyway? And don’t give me that ‘we have mutual friends’ bullshit. There’s more to it than that.”
Blowing out a breath, I pick up my pen and start clicking the top to give my agitation an outlet.
Outside of the office, I’d use a hard run or a few rounds with a heavy bag at the gym.
But here, my civilized options are few. “She’s Jane’s best friend.
” Coop raises an interested eyebrow. He’s not part of the P4H crew, but he’s on the periphery of our circle of friends and has met Jane.
“We met a couple of months ago when Chance and Jane wanted to bring everyone together. It was at that club, Fever, and we hooked up. The next time I had any contact with her was when I walked into the conference room to meet the new hires.”
“I thought you have a rule about that sort of thing.”
“I did. Fuck. I mean, I do,” I say, frustration riding me. “The woman is infuriating. She got under my skin and fucking pushed my buttons.”
“Wait, are you saying you…lost control?” He gives me an incredulous look, one I answer with a glare of annoyance.
“Believe me, I had plenty of control where it counted.”
Coop holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Sure, sure, whatever you say, big man. No need to go all Ruthless on me.” I flip him off then rub between my eyebrows with the same middle finger to ease the tension building there. “So, what are things like between you now?”
“It’s fine. Addison is completely professional. It’s like it never happened.”
“Bullshit,” he counters. “Sometimes I swear the temperature shoots up when you two are in the same room together.”
Yeah, along with my blood pressure and my dick. “Just because having our very own office soap opera would make you happier than a neighborhood busybody doesn’t mean it’s actually happening. You’re reading into things.”
Coop stands with a smirk as he smooths his tie down with one hand.
“Okay, buddy, if that’s how you want to play it.
” He crosses to the door, grabs the handle, and pauses to look back.
“I’m not going to counsel you one way or the other, man, but you know the risks if you get involved and things go south. CYA, brother.”
Cover Your Ass. “Always.”
He closes the door behind him, and I exhale heavily as I drop my head back on my chair.
It doesn’t matter how much I want her. Addison Paige is off-limits, and doubly so.
She was off-limits in the beginning because of a personal preference, simply for being Jane’s best friend.
Now it’s so much more than that. Not only does she work with me, but for me.
Fucking her now would be morally and ethically wrong, not to mention reckless.
Because as John pointed out, if things go south—and the possible ways that might happen are varied and numerous—it could complicate things for our young firm, and I can’t let that happen.
All I have to do is get my dick on board with the plan. But that’s a hell of a lot easier said than done.