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"I knew you'd say that, but I had to ask. You'll come to visit once we get settled, right?"
"Of course, I'll come to visit. If you're close enough to the beach, I'll be there so often you'll think I live there."
"Well, then I'll make sure it's beachfront." We stand up, toss our trash, climb back on his bike, and head back to Reds.
WhenIgetbackto training, I'm the last one to class. I wasn’t late, but nobody likes walking into a room full of people staring at them. Everyone looks up as I enter except for August. Walking back to my seat, I notice that August still shares a table with me. What was once my table now seems to be our table.
He's casually sitting in his chair. It's angled towards mine. With one leg crossed over at the knee, you'd think he's relaxed, but the way his fingers fiercely drum on the table suggests otherwise. If I didn't know better, I would think he's been sitting there staring at my chair, waiting for me, but I quickly dismiss that thought. We just met yesterday. While there is serious tension between us, I'm not naive enough to think he's sitting here obsessing over me.
I take my seat and blow out an exasperated breath before looking directly at him, trying to get a read on him. His expression doesn't change. It doesn't give away anything. I slowly face forward in my seat and attempt to ignore him and his antics.
The guy runs hot and cold, and I don't need any more drama, not to mention there is no way in hell I can afford to have any type of relationship with August. I honestly don't even want a professional relationship with him. I don't think my psyche can handle it. In fact, I know it can’t. I’m barely managing the emotion overload Mason laid on me.
Phyllis starts the class back up, and August doesn't move. He continues glaring at me for what feels like forever. I can feel the waves of tension radiating off him as his eyes bore into the side of my head. What the hell is his problem?
"Unfortunately, we are going to have to cut today's training short. We planned on doing a tour of the tank farm with one of our chemists. However, there's been a spill. Instead, I will send you all home with some materials to study tonight. There will be a short test in the morning followed by a Q&A of the material."
Phyllis dismisses us, and the class begins to file out. This time I plan to stay back, hoping that August takes off before me instead of following me as he has the past three dismissals. I mean, seriously, talk about a stalker. Clearly, it could be worse, but still, it is a little creepy.
Making my way to the back of the class, I act as though I'm grabbing something while everyone else packs up and leaves.Perfect
I casually glance down the hallway making sure the coast is clear before taking my leave. The executive hall is quiet, seeing as how most everyone is still out to lunch. I make it halfway down the hall before being pulled into an office and shoved against the door with a hand over my mouth.
Once I get my bearings and my eyes adjust to the darkness of the office, I realize who my assailant is, August. Narrowing my eyes at him, I attempt to bite his hand. That only makes him smile.Bastard
"Oh, so mi Tesoro likes it rough, does she?" I'm now fuming. What the hell is he going on about, and why does he keep calling me that.
"I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you're not going to scream, do you understand?"
I nod while narrowing my eyes at him. He removes his hand from my mouth but keeps me pinned between him and the door. His actions should scare me. A man I don’t know pinning me up against a wall in a dark office should send up a million red flags. But one thing I’m learning about myself is that with him I like that he is arrogant, vain, and pompous. While none of those things are endearing traits, for me they scream confidence something I have always struggled with. He doesn’t mind pushing the limits on socially acceptable behavior because he goes after what he wants and right now that’s me. The fact that he is giving me any attention makes me feel like maybe I could fit into his world if that’s what I wanted.
"Earlier, you told me if I had something to say to just say it, so here we are."
He's so close to my face that I can barely think straight, and as I take note of his stance, it's more sexual than aggressive. I may be pinned to the door, but his knee is between my thighs, and his hands are gripping my wrists on either side of my head. If I was a smarter girl, I'd fight him. Instead, he's left himself vulnerable in this position, showing me his hand, but whatever game he's playing has my heart beating out of my chest, and I couldn't make myself move even if I wanted to.
"What do you want, August? And what do you keep calling me?"
My voice comes out way too breathy for someone who should be annoyed, and he notices. He gives me the most sinister smile before whispering in my ear.
"For someone who likes playing games, you don't seem like you're trying very hard to win right now." He’s right I’m not, because I’m enjoying his proximity way more than I should.
“That’s because I’m not playing any games August.”
His breath is hot against my ear and sends tendrils of pleasure straight to my core. I can feel every ridge of his body pressed up against mine. I feel like I'm about to self-combust, but right before I catch on fire, he pulls away completely. As he turns to walk away, he says, “If you weren’t playing games, you wouldn’t have been so bold as to call me out this afternoon by your car and tell me to say what I mean.”
Reaching the desk across the room he leans against its front, crossing his feet at the ankles while his hands grip either side of the desk. I do my best to act casual as if our encounter just now didn't affect me as he desired, but he knows better. He got exactly what he wanted just now, he riled me up, and I fell for the bait, not even trying to push him off me.
"I want to know whose car you got into last night and what guy I need to kill for putting your life in danger on a motorcycle."
You have got to be shitting me right now. Is he serious?
"Are you serious right now? How is any of that your business?"
My voice was way too squeaky just now, but I'm livid.
"You have no right to ask me any of those questions."
"That's where you’re wrong, sweetheart. I've just made it my business."
