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This whole conversation first thing in the morning puts me in a sour mood. I’m feeling vulnerable and embarrassed, like a stupid young girl pining over her boss, who has no intention of ever reciprocating these feelings. I’m just another Monica.
Stupid, stupid, Charlie.
I shove the packet aside as I get started on my tasks for the day, mostly replying to emails and helping to organize the vendor forms for the new store going into the club. I am so distracted by everything that I didn’t realize, until almost lunch time, that today was supposed to be what I like to call our ‘special’ days. I wonder if he even remembered. Does he even care that I’m not kneeling by his side?
Gotta love anxiety, when one paranoid thought spirals into a hundred. Like how I’m suddenly wondering if Emerson even wanted me for a submissive secretary at all, or if I was just a dumbass who threw myself at him and he was too polite to say no.
During my lunch break, I eat alone in the kitchen. With my earbuds in, I pick at the leftovers I packed. I feel his presence behind me before I hear him. Pulling out one of my buds, I turn toward him.
“What’s up?” I ask with a touch of attitude that makes his brow twitch.
“Why are you pouting?” He seems strangely unraveled.
“I’m not pouting.”
“Yes, you are. Ever since this morning, you’ve had an attitude. I should be clear that I don’t really like thebratthing, Charlotte.”
My mouth falls open. “Brat thing?”
“Yes. Where you intentionally misbehave and warrant yourself punishment for my attention.”
This time I audibly gasp and turn in my chair. “You can’t be serious.”
He crosses his arms, standing in front of me like a pissed-off statue. “I am serious. You pulled it yesterday at the club, flirting with Drake just to spite me.”
For some reason, I stand up. He still towers over me, but at least this time I don’t appear to be cowering so much. “I can flirt with whoever I want. That hadnothingto do with you. You know what…maybeyoushould fill out a form too, so I know exactly what you want and we can settle all of this confusion right now.”
“So that’s what this is about,” he replies with a nod of his head. “You don’t want to fill out the form. Charlotte, I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to. The form is there for your protection.”
I throw my hands up with a scoff. “Yeah, I get it. You want me to lay all of my cards out on the table for you, but what about you, Sir?” I throw so much sarcastic emphasis on his title that it makes his jaw clench. “Where’s your form? Why aren’t you obligated to admit to everything you want, even if it means making yourself vulnerable? Come on, Emerson.”
I stomp my way out to the office and grab the legal pad on the desk and a pen from the drawer. Shoving them both against his chest, I snap, “Here. Write down everything you want to do with me, just so we’re clear.” My tone is teasing, chock-full of snark, and I expect him to yell back at me or toss the paper on the floor.
What I don’t expect is his body suddenly crowding mine until my ass is against my desk. He presses himself between my legs and leans me backward, so I’m defenseless, letting out a yelp as his face peers only inches from mine.
“You think this is how I want to do this?” he mutters darkly. “You think I’m not dying to know what you’d rate those things on that list, even though I know I’d be the worst father in the world if I ever did any of them?” His hand scoops my lower back as he leans so close to me, I can feel him between my legs.
Staring up into his eyes, my pulse quickens. He wants me. He’s basically saying that now.
Before I can even think of a response, he continues, “I’ll fill out that form for you if you want, but I don’t need to. You want me to tell you that I want to taste you, Charlotte? Because I do. I want to touch you, tease you, fuck you, bend you over my knee and turn that pretty little backside red. There’s not a thing on that list I don’t want to do with you, so you can put the paper and pen away, little girl. Every single thing would get a five from me.”
A small sound escapes my lips.
“You have no idea how hard this is for me, Charlotte. To have you as mine, but not in the way I want.”
“I…I don’t know what to say…” I breathe in response.
“Just fill out the fucking form,” he growls, his mouth only inches from mine.
And just like that, he backs up and lets me breathe again. I take in lungfuls of air as I watch him march out of the room, leaving me standing here alone, thinking about what he just said.
This whole time I was so afraid to admit that I wanted more with him, and he basically just admitted that he wanted it too…but also that he would never give in to that want.
There’s no sign of him for the next hour as I take the list to the kitchen with me, hovering over each item. A swarm of butterflies assaults my stomach at the mere thought of experiencing these with Emerson.
Exhibitionism…five.
Oral…five.
