“No.” I shake my head. “They care about what you bring to the table. They give a shit about what you have of value to offer. You didn’t get this job solely because of your race. And Zack is a fucking jackass for even opening his mouth and saying that garbage. But so what if he and everyone else in the office believes it? It’s not your job to defend the hiring practices of your boss. It’s your job to do what the fuck you were hired to do. Stop letting all of the bullshit get into your head. I see how much you enjoy advertising and learning about it. Show them.”
She blinks and lowers her forehead to my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“You know that’s not his name, right?”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
She giggles.
“He stole my campaign idea.”
Her words are muffled.
I pull back. “What was that?”
“Zeke. That’s what had me so pissed off today. He stole my campaign idea. Presented it as if it was his own.”
Anger courses through my veins. My hand cups her chin, raising her face to meet mine. “And that’s the son of a bitch you’re believing when he says you were just hired to fill some fucking quota?” My voice booms louder than I expected but I can’t help the ire I feel for a person I’ve never even met. “He’s trying to get into your head. He wants you to doubt yourself because it makes him feel better about himself. Don’t let him, butterfly.”
She pushes out a big breath. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly go to Danny and say Zeke stole my idea. That would look totally childish.”
I nod. “So do what you can do. You’ve already proven yourself to be smarter and more creative than that piece of shit. You came up with one idea that was obviously great, which leads me to believe there are just tons more waiting for you to express them.”
She looks up at me again. “You’re right. First, he says I was hired for false reasons, then goes and steals my idea—an idea the company loved by the way. It’s time I play the game the way he’s playing it.”
“Fuck him,” I growl.
She giggles and lays her head against my chest.
I tuck her body against mine, wrapping her with my arms. “You know why I call you butterfly?” I ask as I stare into the distance.
“You won’t tell me.”
I chuckle. She’s right. Every time she asks about the term of endearment, I refuse to give a straight answer. Until now.
“Butterflies start off as caterpillars, a completely different looking entity. They’re slow, not always so pretty to look at. But through a whole series of transformations they emerge from their cocoons as some of the most breathtaking creatures to fly. That’s how I see you.”
Janine pulls back, peering up into my eyes. The wetness that covers her pupils is evident. She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she takes my face into her hands and pulls me down so that our lips meet somewhere in the middle. She pours everything into the kiss.
My cock begins stirring in my pants at the small moans she’s making in between kisses.
She breaks the kiss, her hands still holding my face. Her eyes penetrate mine as she appears to be searching for something.
“I’m probably going to regret this because it might scare you off but I love you.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper.
I lower my face until we’re only about an inch apart. “Only a pussy ass motherfucker would be scared off to hear the woman he loves tell him she loves him.”
Janine’s eyes double in size but I don’t have time to take it because I cover her lips with mine again, needing to touch her. The kiss, albeit excellent, isn’t enough. I need more.
“Where are we going?” Janine gasps, looking around.
I’m practically dragging her by the arm around the back of the building. “You ever fucked in a fire station?”
She gasps. “What? Of course not.”
I chuckle loudly. I knew she hadn’t. I knew that before I even asked the question. “I’m popping that cherry tonight.” I lead us behind the station where there is a back entrance that extends down a hallway that’s rarely used.
“No, we’re not!” she insists.
