Chapter Two
Stone
"You're restless today," Hector Guiterrez, the head of the athletic department, observes, watching me pace a goddamn hole in his floor after the monthly staff meeting.
He's only half wrong. I've been restless every damn day since Seraphina Alcoa came to work for me.
She's the sweetest little thing I've ever seen, with these big brown eyes and a killer smile.
Don't even get me started on her curves.
There aren't words for the filth I think about growling in her ear while putting my hands all over those curves.
Today is worse than ever. She was on her knees between my legs, her hand on my thigh. I wanted to tackle her backward, and fuck screams out of her.
And that was before I found that fucking MASH board. I'm not sure what pisses me off more: the fact that my name was crossed off, or the fact that the Ashton prick's name wasn't crossed off. Or maybe it's the fact that she's my assistant, completely untouchable.
Believe me, that fact has been pissing me off for the last six months straight. I want her… and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it without getting us both fired. Unless—
I whirl on Hector. "Does the University have a rule about dating someone who works directly under someone else's supervision?"
Hector doesn't answer nearly fast enough to suit me.
Instead, he takes his time straightening his tie and then folding his hands together on top of his desk.
"Not to my knowledge," he finally says. "The fraternization policy prohibits relationships between faculty and students, as well as faculty and subordinates. Why?"
I pace again, contemplating how much to tell him. "I have a problem."
"Jesus Christ, Stone. Don't tell me that," he groans. "You're on track to win us a division title again this year."
"Not that kind of problem," I mutter, yanking at my tie. "I…ah, hell. I'm interested in my assistant."
"Seraphina," he says.
I turn to glower at him, not liking the way he says her name. It's…smug. Warm. I like Hector. He's a friend. But I will rip his eyes out through his asshole if he uses that tone again.
"Careful," I warn, my voice lethally soft.
He chuckles, smirking at me. "Easy there, man. I'm just saying, I'm familiar with her. And if you're asking to transfer her, she'd probably jump at the opportunity to not work directly under you."
"What?" My brows pull down, a frown tugging at my lips. "Why?"
"Ah, I believe she called you a Thanos-level villain last time we spoke," he says, grinning.
Jesus Christ.
I scrub a hand through my hair. "I'm not that bad."
"You are," Hector disagrees. "I wondered how long it'd take you to crack."
"For the record, I haven't…cracked," I mutter. "I just…"
"Want to crack."
I jerk my chin, not denying it. Yeah, I want to crack.
I want to fucking break for her. But not if it's going to threaten her job.
Unlike me, the university doesn't pay her millions every year.
They pay her and every other executive assistant a pittance.
I won't be the reason she loses her position.
"If I do…crack..." I say carefully, "Would her job be safe if she worked under someone else?"
"Let me get this straight," he mutters. "You're in here asking about her job, not yours?"
"Yes."
He stares at me for a long, silent moment before he bursts into laughter. "You're fucked."
"Fully aware," I growl at him. "Answer the question."
"Yeah, Stone. If she works under someone else, there's nothing preventing you from cracking." He shakes his head, still chuckling. "Jesus Christ. How do you want to handle this?"
I hesitate, not honestly sure. Part of me wants to leave the choice up to her since it's her job.
But I've always been the motherfucker who asks for forgiveness instead of permission, especially when it counts.
If I give her the choice, she may tell me to go fuck myself just for the hell of it.
Apparently, I've been a Thanos-level villain.
"Is there a world where she gets to keep being my assistant, but answers to someone else?" I ask. That'd be ideal. I still see her every day, but without being her direct supervisor. She'd have the autonomy to tell me to go fuck myself without feeling like her job was at risk.
"Perhaps," Hector says. "We can restructure the position so she answers directly to me. I'd have to fill in the Chancellor, but I don't foresee Aaron having a problem with it." He pauses, holding up a finger. "So long as the two of you are discreet and it's her choice, obviously."
"Obviously, it'll be her choice," I growl. "Why the fuck do you think I'm in here now? I'm trying to do this the right way for her."
"You care about her."
I shrug instead of answering, not prepared to have this conversation with Hector when I haven't even had it with her. An hour ago, I didn't think I stood a chance with her.
I came to work this morning, fully prepared to keep this shit bottled for another day. That little slip of paper changed things. I saw the panic in her gaze when she realized I had it. I saw the way her cheeks turned pink when she lied about why my name was on it.
She wants me.
As far as I'm concerned, that changes things.
Hell, it changes everything.
"Make it happen," I tell Hector. "I'll let her know that she'll be reporting to you from now on."
"Good luck," he says, grinning at me. "But if she kills you before we win that fucking title, it'll be your ass."
"Just do it," I growl, stomping toward the door.
Seraphina is at her desk when I stride back into our office suite, her face scrunched up as she types out a text to someone, muttering under her breath.
She jumps when she sees me, dropping her phone.
Something about me makes her nervous as hell.
Always has. With everyone else, she's grace personified.
With me, she's a stuttering, stumbling, walking disaster.
I never thought I'd see the day when I found clumsiness so goddamn endearing—or so sexy—but here we are.
Every time she stumbles, I want to scoop her up and fuck her raw.
Every time she stutters, I imagine her beneath me, stuttering and moaning through an orgasm.
"We need to talk," I say. "Come to my office."
"Um, okay." She grabs the phone, shoving it into her desk drawer, and then stands, following me into my office like she's preparing for her funeral.
I leave the door open a crack, striding to my desk.
"Do you need something?" she asks after a long, silent moment.
"Yes." I lift my gaze, meeting hers. "You're going to be working under Hector Guiterrez from now on."
I think I should have found a gentler way to break the news, because she jerks like I just slapped her, her entire body going rigid. "What?"
"Hector will be your direct supervisor from now on."
"Are you kidding me right now?" she growls, her face flushing. "You're firing me?"
"What?"
"You found that stupid game, and now, you're firing me!" she cries. "You are unbelievable, Stone."
"That's not what I'm—"
"You know what?" She stomps toward me, too wound up to hear me. Christ, she's sexy as hell right now, all quivering rage and pink cheeks. "Fire me. I don't care. I'd rather work for Hector than spend every damn day fantasizing about strangling you with the cord from your whistle anyway!"
"Seraphina, you'll still be working with me."
This time, she hears me. "What?"
"You'll still be working with me."
She draws up short, just a few paces from my desk. "Um…"
"Hector will be your direct supervisor, but you'll still be my assistant."
"Oh," she whispers almost sheepishly. "I…" She huffs adorably. "My bad?"
My lips twitch. She's so fucking cute when she's out of sorts. It does things to me that it shouldn't. "Do you really fantasize about strangling me with my own whistle cord?"
"I…"
"Don't lie to me now, angel."
"Yes," she says, lifting her chin. "You're infuriating, Stone."
That's fair. Can't say I blame her. I know I've been a fucking beast since she started working for me. What'd Hector say she called me? A Thanos-level villain?
I wonder if she'd still feel the same way about me if she knew she spent every day one tiny breath away from me fucking her senseless on top of my desk.
I've been a millimeter from snapping since she walked into my office, and the only thing that's saved her has been her job.
Would knowing that change her opinion at all?
I decide to find out.
"You know what I fantasize about?"
She swallows so hard her whole body moves with the motion. "W-what?"
"Bending you over this desk and making you scream my name."
"That…that's not very professional."
"I'm aware." I close the distance between us, crooking a finger beneath her chin. "That's precisely why Hector will be your supervisor from now on, Seraphina."
"I'm so confused right now," she whispers, staring at me with those impossibly wide eyes.
"You aren't marrying Ashton," I murmur, leaning down to brush my lips across her cheek. It's a tiny taste, just enough to drive me wild, but it's all I'm allowed to take for now. At least until she's officially under Hector's supervision. And then?
Well, then, all bets are off.