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My head starts to angle downward, and I lean forward in my seat, my elbows resting on my knees as I realize what she’s showing me.
“You’re not wearing any panties?” My eyebrows shoot up because I am truly shocked. I know she likes to front being bold, but this is unexpected.
“Shhh!” She looks around again.
My mouth begins to water as my cock instantly shoots to attention. I fall to my knees and lunge for her, but she kicks her leg out just in time, planting her heel in my chest. I wrap my hand around her ankle as she slowly wags her finger at me.
“You little tease,” I groan as the captain comes on the intercom and makes the final announcements before takeoff.
“Remember what you said,” she says the word emphatically. “What happens here between us, stays here.”
I nod and sit back in my chair, realizing she’s right.
“Hand to God.” I smile, even though my balls are screaming at me for release. “Back to being professional work associates. All the fun stays in Vegas.”
This is going to be the longest fucking flight of my life.
* * *
It’s been five agonizing days since our escapades in Las Vegas and I’m a wreck.
This plan to spend one night indulging in Brontë to get her out of my system has completely backfired.
Call me cocky but I thought for sure it would end up being a mistake for the opposite reason. That she would be the one to be hung up. The one I’d catch staring at me longingly, pining for something more. The one who would try to use any excuse to be close to me or make flirty comments about that night… but it’s me, I’m the one doing all those things.
Truthfully, it kind of pisses me off she seems so unbothered by the whole thing. I heard her commenting to Trish from accounts payable today that she had a date lined up for this weekend already.
“Knock, knock. Hey, I have a few questions for you about Pierce. I’ve been trying to reconcile that account that I couldn’t make sense of bu?—”
“Not right now, Brontë,” I mutter, not bothering to look up from my computer.
“Oookay,” she says at my abrupt interruption. “Any chance you’ll have some time later today or tomorrow before the weekend to go over it? I’d really like to draft up any remaining questions I have and send them over to their team before next week.”
“I dunno, Brontë. Can’t you just figure it out?” I feel flustered, out of my element, and I hate it. I let out an annoyed sigh and see the confusion on her face.
“Did something happen?”
I slam my computer shut a little harder than intended and it makes her jump.
“No, nothing I want to discuss with you.” I stand up and grab my suit jacket and phone. “I’ll be out tomorrow. We can talk about things next week.”
I don’t wait for a response from her. Instead, I march past her and straight to the elevator, sulking the entire way home.
Even after two grueling hours in the gym, I still feel like shit… even worse than I did earlier because I know Brontë didn’t deserve for me to take out my frustrations on her, especially when I’m the one who instigated this.
I could have shut it down the moment she started asking if I would have taken her number if I didn’t know who she was. I should have set her straight the night she crawled into my lap and kissed me, but I didn’t want to… I still don’t want to.
I’m not a dumb man. I’ve never let my dick make choices for me, especially ones that could destroy relationships, but I can’t seem to shake this overwhelming desire for Brontë.
I spend the rest of my evening attempting to distract myself by flipping from one sports channel to the next, eventually calling it a night and crawling in bed, praying I wake up tomorrow a better man.
My alarm blares in my face at six a.m. Clearly, I forgot to remind myself last night that I was taking Friday off. I toss the covers back and slide my phone into my pocket, heading to the kitchen to kick this nagging headache that’s settling in behind my eyes.
“Perfect,” I mutter to myself as I rummage through my cabinet in search of Advil.
I grab my coffee and head to my living room to watch the news while I flip through email. A day off in my world is never really a day off. After several minutes of flipping through email, I shut my tablet off and reach for my phone, sipping on my coffee as I see a few text messages that must have come in last night after I went to bed.
Venus: Hey, stranger (winky smiley face), haven’t seen you in forever. Would love to chat and catch up if you have some free time. I’m still over in the Gold Coast. You know where to find me.
