Me: It isn’t rude, Brielle. It’s the truth. Let’s not pretend this is something more than it is.
I run my hand down my face. Christ, if I keep this up, I won’t have to worry about putting distance between us. Brielle is going to cut and run from my asshole behavior—just like she should.
A few minutes tick by without a response. My chest feels too tight as I wait for whatever she has to say to that.
Finally, the text comes through. I force myself to wait a beat before I read it. I’m not going to flail around, hanging on her every word like a lovesick idiot.
Brielle: Noted.
I got that tone loud and clear.
My stomach twists uncomfortably, and nausea creeps up my throat. I think I’m going to be sick.
“Are you doing alright, Mr. Edgerton? You don’t look good.”
I stop and turn my head to face her. “Thank you for that, Louisa.”
“I’m just saying. You’ve got some dark circles under those black-as-night eyes of yours.”
“Again,” I all but growl, “thank you for sharing that observation. Keep everyone out of my office today.”
“Everyone, or someone in particular?”
“Everyone.”
It’s been four days without Brielle. She’s stayed in the marketing department, barely leaving her office. I know, because I’m constantly waiting for her to pass by my door just so I can get a glimpse of her. Besides the half-second conversation we had in a room full of people about how the Heartland project was going, she hasn’t said a word to me.
I fucking hate it.
I try to get some work done all morning, but my mind is struggling to stay focused. She’s like a drug to my system, and the withdrawals are killing me.
The quiet of the office is interrupted when a commotion starts outside my door. Before I know it, the door is ripped open, and Brielle is standing there like a vision come to life.
“I’m sorry, sir. I told her that she couldn’t come in here,” Louisa says.
“Are you on a call?” Brielle asks, her tone harsher than I expect. A thrill shoots through me.
“No.” I send Louisa a single head nod to let her know it’s fine. She backs out of my office as Brielle strides inside.
She closes the door behind her and then moves to the blinds, closing the slats so that no one can see inside.
“What are you doing?”
My heart rate jumps, my mouth watering as she stands in front of me in a red dress that glides over her skin and a pair of shiny black pumps with little bows on the heels. Despite the color, the dress is appropriately modest for work. Not that it stops my thoughts from going to wildly inappropriate places.
“What amIdoing? What areyoudoing? Two days of blowing me off. Two days of radio silence. ‘Let’s not pretend this is more than what it is,’” she mocks my deep voice. Every word brings her closer and closer, until she’s standing right in front of me.
She lifts one delicately heeled foot and places it right between my legs. My dick twitches, growing rapidly in my suit pants.
“Do you want this to be over? Is that the message you’re trying to send me? Because if so, just tell me.” The sole of her shoe rubs me through my pants.
And I let her. She’s a temptation I’m too weak to resist.
“People know, Brielle,” I warn her.
“I know.” She perches her perfect ass on my desk, her parted knees making my head spin.
“Don’t you think we should back off for a while? At least until the rumors die down.”
