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Chapter Seven
Jensen
The following week is pure, unmitigated torture. I promised Poppy the ball was in her court, but I’ve never been so close to breaking a promise in my entire life.
Poppy was right about the accounts—it’s taken her the whole week just to get the paperwork into some semblance of order. Damn, she’s a hard worker—dedicated and meticulous. She’s here from practically dawn ‘til dusk, even on Saturday, pouring all her energy into making sense of the business finances.
I’ve added another desk to my office for her. I could’ve put her in any number of other rooms, but I want her close to me. Plus, it makes sense to have her nearby so I’m on hand for any questions that arise. Even though I’ve promised not to touch her until she asks me, at least I get to gaze at her like the fucking lovesick puppy she’s turned me into.
I watch her now as she organizes the files from the drawer into folders, papers spread out all over the desk in front of her. She’s wearing her hair up in a ponytail today, exposing the smooth column of her throat. Memories of kissing that soft skin slam into me, and my cock reports for duty beneath my desk. He’s been raising his head every hour, on the hour, for the last seven days despite me jacking off in the shower to the point where I’m surprised I haven’t gone blind.
I bite back a groan as she lifts a hand to her neck, massaging away the tension before twirling her head in a circle. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m halfway out of my chair, wanting to ease the tension from her neck and shoulders myself. I clench my hands into fists. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to go to her, yank her panties aside, and fuck her right there on her desk.
“Boss?”
I’m so absorbed in my fantasy, I don’t register the knock on the office door, and I look up in surprise to see Jackson standing in the doorway. His eyes flit from me to Poppy, and I want to growl at him to keep his fucking eyes off my woman.
“What do you want, Jackson?” I snap.
My tone of voice and fierce expression causes him to clear his throat nervously before replying. “Beer pump’s not working again. I’ve tried reconnecting it like you showed me last time, but it’s jammed up.”
“I’ll come take a look,” I reply in a friendlier tone, following Jackson through to the bar, which is starting to fill up with the lunchtime patrons.
I get the pump working pretty quickly, and Jackson scratches his head.
“How do you do that?” he asks.
“Go the knack,” I chuckle.
I’m about to make my way back to the office when I spot Jared and Dex strolling into the bar. Jared lifts a hand in greeting, and they both make their way over to me.
“How’s it hanging, big guy?” Jared asks with a grin.
I look between them. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Day off,” he replies, perching on a stool.
I hand them each a bottle of beer. “Both of you?”
“I had some vacation days to use up, and shithead here suggested we slap a fresh coat of paint on the walls,” Dex grumbles, referring to the apartment he and Jared share.
“What?” Jared asks defensively. “Not my fault you hate painting. At least the place doesn’t look like a fucking man cave anymo—well, helloooo, beautiful,” he croons, losing his train of thought as his gaze moves beyond me.
I turn to see Poppy hovering behind me. “Everything okay?” I ask, moving towards her instinctively.
Her eyes dart from Jared to Dexter, to me. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have a question about this order,” she says, holding up a piece of paper.
I take it from her and look it over. “Oh, yeah, these were decorations for a bachelorette party we organized. We settled the bill with the supplier, and the customer reimbursed us a few weeks later.”
Poppy nods as I hand the paper back to her. “Gotcha. That’s why the dates didn’t tie up initially. Thanks for clearing that up. Sorry again for the interruption.”
“You can interrupt anytime you like,” I reply softly, giving her a soft smile.
“Right. I’ll get back then,” she says awkwardly, pointing towards the office. She spins on her heel, giving me a mouthwatering view of her rounded ass as she walks away.
Jared whistles approvingly through his teeth. “Who’s that little drop of sunshine?”
I glare at him. “That little drop of sunshine is off-limits, asshole.”
