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He seemed surprised about my words, and I soon found out why.
“Is that really what you wanted to ask?”
“Yes,” I nodded, and he seemed surprised.
“Why did you hesitate so much, then?” he asked.
“I didn't want to be intrusive. The thing is that,” I swallowed, “I want this, but I won't... I won't go forth if you have someone.”
“Why?” he asked, as he studied me. “Between us, it's just tonight, right?”
At this point, I was sure we were playing some kind of game with each other; however, I was definitely losing.
“Tonight or not,” I said, unwilling to relent, “it is my bottom line.”
“What made you think I might be seeing someone?” he asked. “You’re my secretary. Shouldn’t you know?”
My eyes once again went to the vase, and he seemed to understand.
“I have a housekeeper. She ensures these are always here and the freshest.”
“Ah,” I replied and nodded.
Once again, I felt extremely embarrassed and couldn't quite meet his gaze.
“Now,” he said. “Back to?—”
“Can I—” We both unfortunately spoke at the same time. Forced to come to a stop, we regarded each other, and then he smiled.
“You go ahead.”
“No, you go ahead,” I said, and he sighed.
He set the water down.
“There's no need for any of this fluff, so no need to go to bed. We're wasting time. Let’s fuck.”
He sounded a bit crude, but that had also been along the lines of what I wanted to tell him, so I wasn't too bothered.
“Alright,” I replied, more nervous than ever but still stubborn that I could barely remain composed.
To my surprise, he let his towel fall to the floor, and I nearly choked. Sure, I had glimpsed it before, but not this way. Not from the front. It was freaking huge and rock hard and thick and pink. Not to mention freaking gorgeous. I stared as though I was looking at a miracle and as though in disbelief that he was actually real. Or perhaps it was actually real. I lifted my gaze to his.
He smiled, the freaking cocky bastard. No wonder he was so confident in himself. I mean, he deserved it at work, but this was already all that he needed. He didn’t even need to be competent.
“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, and he cocked his head.
“What did you just say?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I shook my head and reached absent-mindedly for the bottle of water.
“No, not nothing,” he said, coming closer. “What's the point in holding back your thoughts if you're not willing to be honest with your words and feelings? Then we might as well not do this. It's not too late.”
At his words, I seemed even more entranced by him, and I managed to smile.
“Of course,” I said. “You're generous.”
“Generous?” he asked, and even I had to ask myself what was wrong. Did I really just call his gorgeous specimen of a cock generous?
