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There was nothing normal about me. Hadn’t been for too damn long.
He hummed his agreement. “Indeed. There are two kinds of women, Jessica.” It didn’t escape my attention that he used my name without my giving him permission to use it—but hell, what was I going to do? He was my damn boss. I couldn’t stop him, could I?
One never could with bosses…
Although, that vibe had me relaxing again. I could tell him I wasn’t comfortable with him using my first name, just like I’d told Derek. He still called me Ms. Barr even though he’d informed me he wanted me to use his first name. He hadn’t even blinked when I hadn’t made a similar offer.
His words stirred the curiosity inside me. Curiosity I had no right in feeling, but it was there, nonetheless. And after way too long of feeling too damn little, I had to ask. “There are?”
He hummed his agreement again. “There is the kind who know you just want sex, then there’s the kind who don’t know.”
I frowned. “And the latter is normal?”
“Exactly,” he told me, sounding pleased I understood.
“And what does the ‘normal kind’ not know?”
“Well, I suppose what I mean is they believe there’s the potential for more than just sex. Potential that is earned without sex, and without hope of gold lining their pockets at some point along the way. Normal.” He grinned again, like that made perfect sense, but all my sense had been knocked out of the park at the sight of that grin. I had to hold back a gasp when the power of it was aimed my way.
He was just so handsome.
With that kind of jet black hair that only movie stars seemed to have and bright blue eyes that belonged in a Husky, not a living breathing man.
As I questioned whether the hair color came from a bottle, I watched him take another sip, and even though I knew it wasn’t my place to ask, I couldn’t stop myself from continuing this decidedly risqué conversation. “Who decides if a relationship is going to be more though? You or the woman?”
He seemed to ponder that a second. “Isn’t it both?”
“Well, usually, but I just didn’t read that from your inflection.”
“What did you read?” he asked, narrowing his gaze at me.
“Well, that the woman decided.” Which had to be bullshit, because no man who looked like this, had a reputation and the wealth to back it, ever let the women in his life have a say.
He nodded. “Yeah, they do.”
That had me snorting; and considering myself lucky that I hadn’t taken a sip of coffee at the same time—that would have been embarrassing in front of anyone. Not just my sexpot boss. “You wait on your partner?”
“Yeah. However, most of the time, I don’t frequent places where I’d find a partner as you phrased it.”
Shaking my head and wondering exactly how we’d started on a topic that was so beyond the ordinary we’d entered ‘supernatural’ territory, I decided to take a leaf from Derek’s book—I cleared my throat.
“I don’t think we should be talking about things like this.”
He cocked a brow. “You don’t? Why not?”
“Because it’s not appropriate?” I hated the squeak that had once again entered my voice.
He waved a hand. “You don’t work for me. I don’t have to worry about the usual rules.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure whether to be worried, terrified, or amused—he had balls, I had to give him that.
“I do work for you,” I felt the need to insist.
“Nope,” he said, that cheerful tone back in his voice. “You work for the agency. I just happen to pay their bill.”
“Which means I work for you.”
“Yes. But the same regulations don’t apply. For example, I could date you and there wouldn’t be an issue.”
