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Her friend seemed to notice this and laughed softly, albeit nervously.
“I was the one who forced her out with me,” she said. “She didn’t have anything to wear except her work clothes, so she just squeezed into this.”
“Sure,” I replied, my cock in response pulsing with arousal and itching as well to be squeezed. The top cups of the dress were so small it was as though at any moment she would completely spill out, and she didn’t seem aware of that. And so, I straightened her, but because she was suddenly spineless and droopy, she couldn’t quite hold herself straight.
I knew then, even when I tried, and she didn’t comply, that this was a complete farce. I couldn’t help but feel angry then, and almost let go of her to fall to the ground, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
Instead, I was even more confused as to why she was playing this kind of silly and foolish game.
Perhaps she was just trying to get my attention, I wondered, as I threw my arm around her waist and lifted her to see if she could walk. To my surprise, her legs were able to move, even though she remained droopy and unstable, and so this way, I was able to take her across the street and put her into the passenger side of my vehicle.
In there and occupied, with the purse her friend had slung over her arm, I put her in and drew the seatbelt over her.
I tried to stare into her eyes then, but they remained forcefully closed, making me aware of what she was doing. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I was sure that I would have found it funny, but being exhausted and so aroused was a lethal combination, so I amended myself and then called her friend once again.
“Where does she live?” I asked. “And do you know how to get her into her apartment? Like, does she have keys or something?”
“Yes, she does,” her friend replied, suddenly acting and sounding more serious than she had earlier on. “It should all be in her purse, the one around her neck, and as for her address, I’ll send it to you right now.”
“Alright,” I replied and started the engine. A few seconds later, the address was sent to my phone, and after programming it into the GPS, we turned around, and we were on our way to her home in Brooklyn.
Chapter Forty-One
Hannah
Iwas slowly losing my mind. This was because, in the silence of my fake drunkenness, I was forced to realize all the mistakes I had made and all the ways in which I could have saved myself from what I was now sure was impending doom. It was as though I was sabotaging myself on purpose, almost convinced that I was constantly looking for ways to get fired. There was truly no other explanation at this point for why I was acting the way I was.
For one, I could have just escaped with Mandy before he had gotten there. And then, even if I couldn't escape, I could have explained that I had thrown up everywhere and that it was too late. He would have had no choice but to go home then, and I would be saved, right?
Right.
And then there was my acting. How abysmal it was. One moment I was awake and the next I was passed out, and still able to walk. He was a lawyer, for Pete's sake, or even at worst, a human being with eyes and a brain. Of course, he was already on to me. I wanted to scream or cry, or both.
And then there was the fact that Mandy, that moron, had so blatantly given him my address. I didn’t mind him going over to my home; however, when my home was a garbage pit due to my stress and laziness all week, I did mind incredibly that my billionaire boss would be going over there. To drop me off and to see what I lied about.
As he had held me, I couldn't help but notice his erection. He was hard, and I didn't blame him; my breasts were all over the place. Even for several moments, as the cold evening breeze had hardened them, I was sure that they'd been exposed, but he had made me decent.
Whether this was the case or not, I didn’t really care. What I cared about now, and was near panic, was the fact that he was going to see the messy site of my home, and I didn't think I would ever be able to recover from this. And so now, all I could think about was ways to discourage it. Perhaps I could miraculously wake up and insist that he put me in a cab. He was most definitely going to reject that. Or could I find a way to convince him to take me to his home? How the hell was I supposed to do that when I was supposed to be unconscious?
I was so screwed, but I was also aware that I couldn't exactly play the "please fire me" card again. At this point, I was beginning to sound like a broken record, and it was just frustrating me to no end. I had told him I wasn’t manipulative, but what the hell was this?
Sighing and then remembering that as a drunk and unconscious person, I wasn’t supposed to sigh, I managed to remain as still as possible until eventually, we arrived at what I assumed was my building.
He shut off the ignition, however, he didn't move. I was so close then to opening my eyes and bursting into tears to plead with him, but I knew him enough now to know that he was allergic to tears. And so, at the end of the day, as I was going through and striking out options, all I was slowly approaching was the base of it all, which was to just freaking tell him the truth. The consequence of this though was that I would never be able to look him in the eye again. But what did it matter?
I began to count down from ten, gathering the courage, but then, just before I opened my eyes and straightened, he moved and opened the latch to his door. I went as still as a rock once again as he slammed the door shut, and then he came over to my side.
I didn't want to reach, however, at his wonderful scent in my nostrils, I leaned in further, and he seemed to notice then and go still. I squeezed my eyes shut on reflex, and that was the moment I knew that I had been busted.
Still, he carried me out, but I had to stand on my feet, leaning against him and pretending to wobble.
We headed to my apartment, and soon we were in the hallway and before my front door. He grabbed my purse from my back and began to unzip it, and then, with my heart in my throat, I collapsed fully against him, nearly dragging him along with me to the floor.
"For fuck's sake, Hannah!" he cursed, letting me go, and I landed on my ass. Everything went quiet. I was on the verge of tears.
"Really?" he asked. "You're going to continue playing dead?"
And there it was.
