My mouth falls open as I realize his admittance. I get the feeling Sloane Pierce is not a man who apologizes to many people, if ever.
That truth makes my heart skip a beat.
“I don’t n-need—”
“Oliver…” he breathes as I suck in a heavy breath. Suddenly the weight of the world feels heavy on my shoulders.
Because I’ve neverwantedanyone to take care of me before.
But as I say those words, I feel the ache. The longing.
The desire to be cared for.
He doesn’t mean it in the sense I wish he did. I know he’s just trying to be a good boss, despite his asshole moment earlier, and in his own way he thought he wasteachingme, and it doesn’t make it right, but…
I have a hard time focusing on those feelings when he looks at me like this. When his voice gets soft likethis.
“I don’t need you to cart me around like a toddler,” I bite. “Or toreprimandme by being a fucking asshole when all I’m doing is what you ask. What you want me to do.” The words fall out of my mouth of their own accord.
He sighs. “Is that what you think I’m doing, hmmm? Bossing you around like Iownyou?”
“Maybe,” I nip.
He reaches out and carefully, swiftly brushes some hair behind my ear. His touch is smooth. Warm.
I like it. I like it a lot, actually.
The urge to lean into it is prevalent.
He’s my boss. I have a fucking boyfriend, for God’s sake, one who I amdoingall this for.
But the desire tokisshim is so damn overwhelming.
I want to kiss him. I want him to kissme.
“I assure you, Oliver, though you may be young—” He smirks. “Much younger than me, I know you are not a child. You do notbelongto me.” His thumb brushes my cheek softly, and then he drops his hand. “I know you arecapableof taking care of yourself.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I might be wrong, but… I think you have been doing that a long time. Taking care of yourself.”
I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. It’s like Sloane Pierce knows just how to stir up parts of me I didn’t know existed, parts I thought I’d buried.
Sloan breathes deeply, “But you don’thaveto.”
He traces his thumb down my cheek faintly, almost delicately, and then he drops his hand.
“Submission doesn’t have to mean surrender, Oliver.”
I hear the sounds of keys, the ghost of a cough from a cubicle, reminding me we are not alone. Anyone could walk down this hall and see us. See how close we are.
And yet I don’t walk away.
I stay still as a statue.
His words make my heart ache, my stomach twist, and my eyes fill with tears.
“Let me buy you dinner," he says. “You’ve more than earned it today.”
I hang my head as a rush of emotion hits me.
“Dealing with your dick boss, after all.” His voice is tinged in humor.
