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I’m so floaty and light, so relaxed for the first time in so long. Drifting somewhere far above the building, bobbing between the stars.
Levi.
For a horrible second, my eyes burn with tears.
Not because it hurts—because I love this so much. Because I lovehim.And if this is all we’ll ever have, if this is the only time I’ll get to touch him this way, I don’t want to waste it sniffling like a weirdo.
But Levi pulls out of my mouth, and he’s breathing hard. A line of spit links the glossy head of his cock to my lip.
“Are you alright?” he grits out. “We can stop, Georgina. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I’m already shaking my head, already tugging him close again. “Keep going. This is the best.”
Levi’s spluttered laugh fills the quiet office. “You’re not real,” he says softly, even as he grips my hair again, possessive and rough. “Georgina, you’re too good to be true.”
And he won’t feel like that for much longer, not when the truth inevitably comes out, so I breathe in through my nose and try to enjoy it. Try to let his words seep into my bones, my mouth stuffed too full to reply.
I’mtoo good to be true?
This man should look in the elevator mirror.
Eight
Levi
I’m in love with my assistant. How predictable of me.
Should I buy a red sports car next? Start a collection of expensive cuff links? Take up skydiving to pretend that I’m not getting older every day?
A sex scandal will be sufficient, I grumble inwardly as I prowl through the Ignis floors, harried workers scattering in my wake. We’re close to the launch now, and the air in this building seems to vibrate with tension. Every minute counts.
So close. We’re nearly there—then, disaster or not, we can breathe again for a while. My workers can take some vacation days, go and make up for lost time with their families, and I’ll…
I guess I’ll do my usual thing. Get right back to work.
Or… maybe not. Because as I stroll through the finance department, hands in my pockets and a scowl fixed on my face, an image flickers through my brain: Georgina in that bikini I imagined so long ago, stretched out on a towel in the sunny city park. One arm tossed over her eyes, a secretive smile curving her lips as I—yes, as I rub sunscreen into her stomach, my hand roaming up over her tanned body. Would she chat to me as I did it? Would she let out one of those breathy moans, shifting against the towel?
“Mr Laurent?”
I blink, drifting slowly back to earth. One of the Ignis accountants blocks my path, his smile pained. How many times has he said my name?
Caught daydreaming about my crush like a teenager. Wonderful.
“Yes?” Shaking off the embarrassment, I peer at the nervous man in his polka-dotted tie. It screams Father’s Day gift, that tie. “What is it?”
“We need you to sign off last quarter’s figures. And there are departmental budgets that need approval, and expense reports…”
On and on he goes. I suck on my teeth, fighting to listen.
This used to come so easily to me, back when work was the only thing in my life. I had no trouble focusing on all the low level bullshit of running a company, because what else was there to think about? But now…
“Fine,” I interrupt at last, my voice more clipped than it needs to be. “Send it all up to my assistant.”
My assistant, who I love.
My assistant, who dropped to her knees for me last night and sucked my cock like it was her god given purpose in life.
My assistant, who lives rent-free in my brain.
