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 acrushfeels 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 hershe’sthe 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 feelhow 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 ofpride 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 fuckingheardwhat 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.
