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You know what I don’t like? Mornings. But I had fun last night.
“That’s the text I sent you.” She pointed to the timestamp. “At three twelve that after
noon.”
“I don’t understand.” Reading her words made me want to fuck her all over again. She had thrown it back to the night we met, when she’d given me a laundry list of things she liked. My nostrils flared and my gut twisted. God, she was so funny and sexy and confident.
“Some jerk answered.”
I scrolled through and saw his request for a pic. “Holy shit, I’m glad you didn’t send him one.” The very thought made me rage.
“I didn’t because his texts didn’t sound like you. It felt… off. And it was.” She snatched her phone back out of my hands. “I thought maybe I had mixed up a number, so I tried a couple of combinations. I got a grandmother in Seattle and some very aggressive woman who swore at me.”
I was speechless. “I’m sorry, Dakota. I really left you my real number, I swear to God. I wanted you to get in touch with me.”
She fished through her phone again and showed me a picture. It was of the note I’d left her that morning. “Read this number to me.”
I did.
“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that’s a five?” She pointed to the fourth digit. “That is not a five.”
“It’s a five.”
She smacked her forehead. “Your handwriting is shit. I thought that was a six. I never even doubted it was a six. This number looked in question.” She pointed to the fifth number. “But that one? Never in a million years.”
“It’s a five.”
We stared at each other.
“So, you wanted to see me again?” I asked, still processing. For six months I had thought she’d wanted nothing more to do with me.
She nodded. “I don’t get my feelings hurt very often, but that hurt my feelings. I felt like you intentionally took a jab at me by leaving a fake number.” She poked me in the chest. “I gained five pounds because of you. I ate a disgusting amount of donuts that first month. A revolting amount. An utterly offensive and hideous amount.”
This was a hell of a turnaround of events. I fought the urge to grin. “I’m sorry. You don’t look like you’ve gained five pounds to me.” I ran my eyes over her. “In fact, you look… fantastic. I deeply, truly regret my bad handwriting. How can I make it up to you?” I really, really wanted to kiss her. I wanted to cup her cheeks and kiss that sweet mouth so she would stop talking about donuts in such negative terms.
She dropped her gaze and tapped on her phone screen. She put the phone to her ear. My phone rang on my desk. I glanced over, wondering if she wanted me to actually answer it. She pursed her lips, glancing in the same direction as I did.
“Hello, Brandon, this is Dakota Tanner. Call me at your earliest convenience.” She ended the call and eyed me. “Was that discreet enough for you?”
I nodded. I shifted past her and locked my office door. “I’m really happy to see you,” I said. “Even happier that you wanted to see me again.” Then I closed the space between us and traced my thumb over her bottom lip. “This is a very bad idea but I’m going to kiss you anyway.”
And I did.
Brandon hadn’t given me a fake. I was still wrapping my head around that fact when he locked his office door. Hello. He was wearing a royal blue suit, looking as commanding and impressive as he had the night we’d met, when he’d peeled off his jacket to put it over my shoulders.
When he bent down and kissed me, I didn’t even hesitate. I kissed him back, raising my palms to press against his muscular chest. It was everything I remembered and more. This came paired with the knowledge that he had wanted me. The truth was clear in both his words and his expression.
In his position, he could date or hook up with anyone he wanted. He was young-ish, good-looking, surrounded by professional athletes who were surrounded by beautiful women. He could be dating a New York socialite. Instead, he was here in his office kissing me and I was feeling it in every inch of my body.
He wasn’t my boss, not in the truest sense, but sort of. I really didn’t want to be that girl. The one who casually bangs her boss with no thought to her own future. I was in a precarious position, but Brandon did such amazing things to me with his tongue, that it was hard to remember any of that.
“You make me so fucking hard,” he murmured in my ear. He took my hand and put it over his cock.
He was not lying. That was one hard cock. Very hard.
I was suddenly very glad I had thought to wear a skirt.
“You’re right. This is a bad idea,” I said, even as I yanked down his zipper.
