Chapter 6
DOMINIC
Hot water drips down my body, running between my pecs and over my abs, the heat making me think of Izzy. But that’s not saying much. Lately, everything makes me think of her. Perhaps this is what having a crush feels like. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time for this.
Now, it’s like I have no choice.
I close my eyes, letting the water slide down my body. I left mid-conversation last night. I knew I should’ve responded, but it was too tempting to tell her she’s the person who makes me want to live in the here-and-now, to pretend nothing and no one else exists.
Just thinking of her makes the rest of the world a little less deafening. Imagining her in this shower with me, wearing those tight pants and a white shirt, pressing herself against me. You need to take those clothes off. Now.
Yes, sir…
I peel off the soaked white fabric, revealing inch after curvy inch of her perfect body. I press myself against her, letting her feel how hard she makes me. My cock is solid now, water clinging to my tip along with the precome.
The fantasy suddenly shifts. Now we’re in the office, and she’s looking at me over her shoulder, her wild hair loose as she bends over the desk. “I know you’ve been staring at my ass. Do you want to see it bounce, sir? Do you want me to grind on that rock-hard cock?”
I force my eyes open, my chest heaving. In a fucked-up way, it’s good that the fantasy dragged me into the office. My mind has reminded me that this is wrong. I need to stop. She’s my employee. She’s a young woman with responsibilities who wants to work, earn her way, not be possessed.
But, fuck, I’d love to own her…
I wipe steam from the mirror and stare at myself, my eyes wild, a small smile on my lips.
I look alive, vital, in a way I can’t ever remember.
It’s like there’s something new and exciting bursting up inside of me.
I’m not old, but sometimes, I feel weary enough that I might as well be. Not anymore. Not with Izzy.
“Get your shit together,” I grunt, turning away.
Over the next couple of days, I focus on my work with a vengeance. Every time I’m in the corporate office, I feel the pull toward the pit. She’s a looming presence unlike any I’ve ever felt. I don’t think of myself as a dramatic man, but hell, this is getting out of hand.
Jennifer texts me a photo of Liam with an ice cream, giving the camera a thumbs-up. As usual, I’m struck with a mixture of pride and sadness looking at the kid’s bright ice-cream-covered smile.
The weekend hits, but I’m in the office anyway. Izzy isn’t, though, meaning I get two days of work without fighting the constant urge to go into the pit and see her. The whole time, my father is sneering in my head. Judging me. Warning me that this is all going to blow up in my face.
Sebastian Goodfellow was my best friend. He tricked us. Ruined us. This woman is a stranger… what do you imagine she’d do for all your riches?
Soon enough, it’s Monday again. I’m late to the office because Liam needs a new soccer kit, apparently, and Jennifer likes to take cash so that her husband won’t know I’m paying the kid’s way. When I arrive, I park outside, looking across the street at Izzy and Kenny.
Izzy has her back to the wall, gesturing with her hands animatedly.
Kenny stands a little too close. His back is to me, so I can’t see the look on his face.
But his body language is all wrong. I drive up to the curb, winding my window down, turning my face slightly away so they don’t notice it’s me. Perks of not driving a flashy car.
“You got a boyfriend or something?” Kenny says.
“I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Izzy replies. “Like I’ve told you.”
Kenny chuckles. “So, you’re saying there’d be some pleasure?”
“I’ve told you, please, to keep things professional.”
“Psh. I’m just being friendly.”
I climb from the car quickly, seething. How many times does she have to say it for him to get the picture? Kenny turns as I approach. His face forms a picture of comic-book-like shock. He backs up, raising his hands as I approach. I keep walking until he’s forced to push his hands against me.
“Boss, what the hell?” He cries.
“I heard,” I growl. “I fucking heard what you were saying to her, Kenny. Do you think that’s appropriate? Do you think you have any right to talk to her like that, after she’s told you no?”
Kenny trembles slightly. His eyes flit left and then right. I’ve always liked him, but right now, I despise him. I could tear him to pieces and feel like I did the right thing.
“Izzy’s doing her best to make a life for herself,” I snap. “She’s doing her best for herself. For her family. And this is how you choose to support her.”
“I’m—sorry,” Kenny forces out. “Seriously, boss. Jesus.”
“You’re sorry,” I mutter.
“Yeah.”
“And you think that’s good enough? I just caught you sexually harassing a coworker. Go the fuck home.”
“Whoa, wait a sec!” Kenny bleats.
I glance at Izzy. She’s looking at me with a mixture of fear and appreciation. There’s some outrage in there too, like she’s pissed it took me coming to her defense to make him stop.
“Am I going to lose my job?” Kenny asks.
“We’ll decide that after I gather a few facts.”
“But—”
I spin back to him. He backs against the wall with a small whimper. “But what? Don’t force this.”
“What’s going on?”
I turn to find Ethan striding toward us, a concerned look on his face. My assistant is staring at me as though I’ve grown a few extra heads.
“Kenny was just leaving.”
Ethan looks at Izzy, then at Kenny. “Christ, Kenny,” he says, when he realizes what’s going on.
“I was just being friendly!” Kenny whines.
For a second, maybe two, all I know is bloody fury. It’s like something else takes over. When I come to—and that really is what it feels like—I’ve got a fistful of Kenny’s shirt in my hand.
“Boss,” he snaps. “Boss, please.”
“Dominic!” Izzy exclaims.
She gazes at me with concern in her eyes. She’s more worried for me than herself. It’s beautiful and dangerous.
“Go home, Kenny.”
I let him go and stride into the office, ignoring the looks aimed at me. In the elevator, I try to slow my breathing, force my fists to unclench.
In my office, I drop into the chair and bury my head in my hands. I’ve never shown so much emotion in front of my employees before. I technically just assaulted Kenny. If he wants to press charges…
A knock comes at my door. “Yeah?” I grunt.
Ethan walks in, running a hand over his mop of brown hair. “Kenny has agreed not to press charges. I convinced him it would financially ruin him because you could counter-sue on sexual harassment claims in your workplace. Honestly? That might be bullshit. But he seems to have bought it.”
“Hell, it definitely could be harassment.” I grind my teeth.
“Dom.” Ethan sits opposite me. “What was that? I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“I’ve never caught some bastard hitting on one of our employees before. After she said no.”
“Some bastard,” Ethan repeats. “You mean Kenny, who’s worked for you for three years?”
“He needs to keep his goddamn hands to himself.”
Ethan raises an eyebrow as if to say, You’re one to talk…
“I’ve got work to do, but keep me looped in if Kenny makes a fuss.”
Ethan sighs and leaves. I try to work for the next two hours, but my mind won’t stop ruthlessly analyzing the scene outside.
I was in the right because, really, what right does he have?
But I didn’t handle the situation the correct way either.
More and more, it’s like my PR persona is the real me. Savage, cold, and ferocious.
I’m pacing when there’s another knock on the door.
“Can I come in?” It’s Izzy, her voice low.
“Sure.”
She takes a few steps into the room. White shirt, buttoned tight, hip-hugging black skirt, and black tights that make me jealous, make me wish I were an item of clothing.
“I’ve got the income reports,” she murmurs. “I think Kenny was supposed to get them to you today?”
“Hmm,” I say, nodding to my desk. “Thank you.”
She walks past me, her gaze lowered. She’s clearly nervous. Do I frighten her now?
She bites her lip and glances at me. My fantasies from the shower spear my mind, making me feel no better than Kenny. I force them away and focus on the beautiful person in front of me, not the wild thing she was in my mind.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“I don’t tolerate sexual harassment,” I assure her.
“Thank you,” she replies. “Really. In this industry… yeah, it means a lot, Dom. But grabbing him, going berserk.”
“Berserk,” I repeat. “Is that what I did?”
She flinches. Her cheeks glowing red. I don’t want to scare or put her off. But what would she think if she knew I wanted to grab her right now, sink my hands greedily into her ample hips, and pull her against me?
“I don’t know,” she says quietly.
“If I went berserk,” I grunt, approaching her slowly.
If I move any faster, my instincts might take over.
I’ll give in to this ache in my gut, telling me to stop messing around and just grab her.
Kiss her. Own her. All my life, all these years, looking out for everybody else.
When am I going to get a chance to live?
“It was because what he did was unacceptable,” I go on, stopping just short of her. An alarm bell rings in my mind, telling me I’m no better than Kenny.
“I can take care of myself,” she murmurs.
I raise my hand and gently brush my fingers along her neck. Her gasping sound is the most irresistible I’ve ever experienced. Every sinew in me responds, but I somehow fight them down. For now.
“No necklace today?” I murmur.
She turns her head toward my hand, as if she’s seeking the warmth of the touch. It’s stunning how natural this feels. It has no right to. After several days of avoiding her, I’m receptive to her every look, every touch, every sound.
“It’s not that,” she murmurs.
“What, then?”
She glances at me, clearly nervous. “It’s… nothing.”
I move even closer. We’re barely inches apart from each other now. A few subtle movements, and my fantasies could burst to life. “It’s not nothing. So tell me.”
“You’re being very bossy,” she murmurs, her voice going breathy.
Say that like it doesn’t drive you wild.
“Well,” I reply, smirking. “I am the boss.”
She sighs and walks to the window. She looks so small from behind, fragile. Perhaps that’s an unkind thought, reducing her to that. But the urge to protect her is overwhelming.
“It’s Kenny,” she says. “I don’t want to make it a big deal, but he’s the reason I stopped wearing the necklace. He kept complimenting it. Even after I told him to stop.”
What the fuck? My hands curl into tight fists. I should’ve thrown that prick through the wall. He’s my old friend, a good worker, but this is beyond fucked.
“I’ll knock his lights out.”
She spins to me, staring in horror… and something else nestled in her expression, something she probably wouldn’t even want to admit to herself. She likes it.
“Dom!” She gasps. “You can’t say things like that.”
“You have every right to come to work and just work, Izzy. You don’t deserve this.”
“Maybe I do.” She drops her gaze.
I close the distance again and cup her chin. The electricity between us is undeniable. I know she feels it too by the flush that spreads across her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing into her white blouse.
“What makes you say that?”
Her eyes glisten. “You don’t know me, Dom.”
“I know you do not deserve any of this crap. Kenny’s never going to work here again. And if anyone else harasses you, you come to me.”
My hand is still on her chin, touching her as gently as I can. She reaches up and wraps her hand around mine, maybe to pull me away. But she just holds my hand gently.
“You don’t owe me any special favors.”
“Let me put it simply, Izzy,” I snarl, knowing I should stop. But knowing I can’t at the same time. “The only person who lays their hands on you in this office, or anywhere, is me. Understand?”
Oh, fuck.
The way my words make her chest rise and fall, drawing attention to those shapely, wonderful tits. Even better? The eagerness sparkling on her gorgeous face, her eyes flooded with excitement and addictive adrenaline.
“Dom,” she whimpers.
“No one else,” I tell her firmly. “Understand?”
Is it only harassment if she doesn’t like it? I’m putting her in an awkward position here. A sick relative, a new job she needs to keep…
I take a step back, shuddering, my body burning. “I’m so—”
“Don’t apologize,” she cuts in. She strides to the door, looks at me over her shoulder, just like in my fantasy. “This isn’t simple, obviously. But no sorrys.”
“You look so beautiful right now,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes.
“I mean it,” I say firmly. “Confident, determined, with your hair just messy enough to be sexy but tame enough to be professional. I’m a hypocrite, Izzy. Tell me to stop. Tell me I’m beyond fucked.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I can’t,” she murmurs.
When she’s gone, I try to work. Really, I do. I’ve got so much to deal with. Commercial projects, low-income housing, and the West Coast office. My foremen are probably wondering where the daily call is, or they might even be grateful for the break.
I end up in the shopping district, in a jewelry store I’ve never had cause to step foot in before. When I spot the earrings in the shape of musical notes, I know I have to get them. I don’t care if the price tag would make most people’s eyes water.
Toward the end of the workday, I slip the earrings into an envelope and head to the pit. The atmosphere is tense as I stride across the office. Clearly, everyone has heard what happened.
I place the envelope on Izzy’s desk—she isn’t here—and then leave.
As I ride the elevator up, I’m smiling like a goofball. I can’t help it. For the first time in years, something apart from work is firing me up.