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7
Chianna
It’s almost halfway through the day and so far I’ve done a good job avoiding Kris, no matter what my traitorous body has to say about it. What I really want to do is find him and drag him into the supply closet and beg him to shower me with pleasure and take my mind off all the other things swirling around in there.
Things like my uncle and how I’m starting to regret taking this job and his offer to live with him at all.
As soon as we were out of sight of the apartment building, he wouldn’t stop talking. About me. About Kris. About me and Kris together. I honestly wished that I could disappear.
His monologue has been running through my head on repeat all morning.
“I’m glad that you left a note about where you were this morning, though I’m a little surprised at you. I thought that you wanted this job? You’ll get enough exercise walking around the office. Going to the gym is a waste of time. Instead of doing yoga and playing personal trainer with Kris fucking Canterbar, you could have used that time to work more on the presentation.”
I kept looking out the window. “I’m sorry.”
“Your work last night was acceptable, but that’s all that it was. If you want to do well here, you’re going to have to put in the time and make the sacrifices. Even if that means not going to the gym in the morning.”
The fact that I’d gotten up to go to the gym at five o’clock in the morning wasn’t mentioned. Or the fact that I’d done everything and more that he wanted on the presentation last night. I’d worked until I was practically falling asleep standing up. I don’t know what I could have done more or better—I’m sure he’ll give me a list at some point today.
By the time that we got to the office, I was grateful for the busywork tasks that he gave me just so I could finally get away from him.
I don’t think Meynard liked that I didn’t enthusiastically agree with him about the fact that I could have done more. Up until now, I’ve been almost overly enthusiastic about this job. I still am. I’m still here, I still want to learn, but even though it’s only been a few days, it feels like nothing is happening. And based on what he’s given me to do so far, it feels like that’s the way it’s going to stay.
The truth is, I don’t agree with him. But then again, maybe that’s not fully on me. Maybe it’s Kris. He burst in, all hot and sexy, and distracted me. If he hadn’t rescued me from Meynard’s rebuke yesterday, I maybe wouldn’t have noticed him. If he hadn’t cornered me in that supply closet yesterday, maybe I wouldn’t have wanted him. If he hadn’t been in the gym this morning looking as delicious as sin, maybe I would have been back to the apartment before Meynard even realized that I was gone.
Yeah. That was the problem. I was being distracted. And that’s exactly why I’d avoided relationships in high school and college all together. I wanted to do my work and impress my uncle and get a good job. Once I accomplished those things, I could make time for love and sex.
And pleasure, my brain adds.
I scowl at nothing.
Pleasure is easy. Pleasure is something that I can give myself. I don’t need some hot executive tongue fucking me every day to have an orgasm.
The truth in my brain is right there, but I push it aside. I can teach myself to come like that. It can’t possibly be that special. Maybe there’s a sex toy that mimics a tongue. I’ve heard some of my friends talk about vibrators that suck on your clit. Maybe I’ll get one of those and I won’t even notice the difference.
That part of my brain that’s already mentally stripping down for Kris again is laughing at me.
I knew that this could happen. Maybe that’s the real reason that I’ve avoided it for so long. My gut instincts told me exactly how much I wanted it, and that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
At least right now that’s how it feels. Like I’ve had one taste of the most addictive drug in the world and now it’s all that I want. I crave it under my skin. Impossible, given the fact that it’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen him. But thinking about being spread out on the floor has me ready to retreat into the bathroom and touch myself to relieve the ache.
No.
I need to focus. Find a way through Meynard’s bullshit list of tasks and force him to give me work that actually has substance. That’s all that I can do right now. That’s all I want to do.
