She turns to look at me.
“I’m just doing my job, Oliver. No need to thank me.”
And that’s when I hear him, his deep rumble of a voice beckoning me like a lost sailor. He brushes past Chicora, smiling at her.
“Thank you, Chickadee.” He grins. “Make sure you grab a croissant before they go. Saw Bill was eying up the last one.”
Chicora shakes her head. “Bastard.”
And with that, she leaves me and Sloane Pierce alone again.
He saunters towards his desk, hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word. Nor does he look at me. He just… pulls up his chair and settles into his space, logging into his computer as if everything that had transpired was not real.
Had I imagined it?
Is it the stress of what I’m doing chipping away at me and causing me to crack? To go mental?
I can’t handle this sort of whiplash. Nor can I handle the fucking hardness in my pants.
Why won’t you go away damnit!
“I, uh… am going to hit the little boy’s room,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ll be back and we can go over the venues.”
“Uh-huh," he says nonchalantly.
I stand carefully, angling my body so that I am turned enough away that he can’t see me… or my issue. I arrange my jacket so that it covers me and briskly make my exit.
Once in the hallway, I feel like I can breathe. I am clearly out of my league here. I don’t know how to do this. Hell, I don’t know if Ican.
There are moments Sloane Pierce feels like the man Robbie says he is. Brutal, maybe even a little conniving. But there are also moments where he is the exact opposite. Where he is kind. Where he is…warm.
Like yesterday… he came to eat lunch with me. I get the feeling that’s not something he usually does. He drove me home because he cared. Picked me up because…
Because why, exactly? If it was truly about my damn Chromebook, he could have waited until I got here today to give it back to me. Or at the very least, texted me to come in early. But he did no such thing. Instead, he took it upon himself to come and get me, and buy me breakfast, and then make me all… keyedup, and now he’s tapping away on his computer while I run and hide in the bathroom like a damn coward.
I need to quit. I need to quit this job and tell Robbie it’s not going to work, but…
But then I think about the stack of papers Chichora brought me.
Insurance. Benefits.
Things I need, and can’t really afford to continue to go without. I need a new car, I need new contacts, I need to pay my rent on time this month, and my savings is not getting any higher with my not working these last few months.
I can’t quit. Not until I can get those things in place. Enough to at least save up for a car, and…
I push the thoughts aside as I head for the stall, knowing what I need to do.
I suck in a breath as I free my cock and tell myself it’ll be fine. I can handle this.
It’smy job.Aside from Sloane and Robbie’s directives, this is my job and I need to remember the position I’m in. Even if Sloane wakes up tomorrow and decides I’m no longer fun for him to poke and play with, I need to think aboutmyself.So that’s exactly what I promise to do.
I purse my lips and stifle my groan as I do what I need, bringing myself the release that is both full of guilt and relief.
I let out a labored breath as I drain my cock, watching the remnants of my guilt circle the drain. I stuff my cock back in my pants, straighten my clothes and wash up. And when I return to Sloane’s office, I do everything I can to push aside my own insecurities and channel the man I’m supposed to be.
I don’t speak to Sloane. I walk past him, to my spot at the table, and pull up the email, searching for what I need and make my notes. And when I am done, I present the list to my boss on his desk.
I stand there, hands clasped, and wait.
