Fuck. I knew I forgot something. It was a big thing too. Probably the single most important thing I was supposed to remember all year. “I...made a mistake.” I had no excuse for why I forgot to get him the reports. Why he’d have to tell the bank tomorrow morning that he wasn’t prepared. It didn’t matter that it was my fault,because he would be the face of the failure. Yeah, I fucked up. “I forgot.”
He stared at me, his lips taut. “You forgot? You aren’t going to lie and make it seem like you aren’t this incompetent?” His normally handsome features twisted in anger, which I deserved. Iwasincompetent, and I deserved to be fired for such a colossal fuck up, but I silently pleaded for mercy. I needed this job.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my gaze. I had nothing more to say.
Mr. Lawrence’s chair squeaked as he pushed it away from his desk. The wheels snagged on the shitty carpet. He stood, walked toward me, and took a seat on the corner of the desk. The intense way he stared at me made me swallow hard. I felt like I had a golf ball in my throat.
He brushed a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You’re a good employee, Zoey. Smart, witty, well-versed, really quite the asset here.”
“But?”Please don’t fire me, please don’t fire me.
“This is a massive fuck up. What am I supposed to say at the meeting tomorrow? I can’t tell them that my employee simplyforgotthe most important thing I had to bring besides myself.”
“Am I fired?” I asked. I was torn because I hated my job, but my livelihood depended on it.
Mr. Lawrence walked to the coat rack in the corner of his office and shrugged out of his suit jacket before hanging it up. He loosened the neck of his blue tie, which sat tucked beneath his crisp checkered dress shirt. “No. I’m not firing you. I’ll just make a night out of it and do the reports myself.” He sounded disappointed, and hissoft tone confused me. He should have been mad. “You’re twenty-something, right, Zoey?”
I cleared my throat. “Twenty-five.”
“I have thirty years on you, and I don’t forget important parts of my job like you do. Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” He smirked as he walked back to the corner of his desk and sat on the dark, expensive wood.
It was hard to get reprimanded by him without thinking of him bending me over the desk and letting me know what a shitty employee I’d been. I imagined him raising my skirt and using his big, firm hand to punish me exactly how I deserved. This fuck up would get me so many spankings I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. Heat flushed my cheeks at the thought, and I hoped he didn't notice.
“D-Do you need anything else?” I asked, getting hung up on my words.
Mr. Lawrence rolled up his sleeves. “How long have you worked here, Zoey?”
“Almost five years.”
“And in those five years, have I ever made you uncomfortable?”
“What? No.” I laughed nervously, swiping my sweaty palms on my skirt.
“Then why are you acting so nervous?” he asked with a genuine smile as he reached out and casually turned over the picture of his wife.
“Well, like you said, I made a colossal mistake.”
Mr. Lawrence grabbed a ball from his desk and tossed it between his hands. His big, strong hands. Henoticed me staring. “Oh, Zoey, I don’t know how to broach this topic with you.”
“I can stay and do the reports,” I blurted.
“That’s not what I mean.”
He stepped toward me and touched the collar of my dress shirt. I held my breath as he pulled his hand away. My eyes trailed down the checkered pattern of his pressed shirt, stopping at his broad chest. I let my gaze fall until it reached his expensive slacks. Even through the pleated pattern of his pants, I could see how hard he was. It was undeniable.
I bit my lip. “What do you mean?” I thought I knew what he meant, but I couldn't believe it was happening. Was itreallyhappening?
“I have wanted you for a few years now. It’s unbearable.” His blue eyes softened further, and there was a throb in his angular jaw, as if he wasn't sure if this was worth the risk.
It was. I was certain of that.
Did he know how much I fantasized about him? Why I often dropped my gaze when he looked at me? How I couldn't focus on his reprimands because my mind wandered to his cock? I wanted to know what waited beneath his suit. Even the way he said my name made me question if he was as demanding in the bedroom as he was in the workplace. I had made myself come to the answers to those questions more often than I cared to admit.
“Isn’t this against policy?” I choked out. I would break the shit out of that policy tonight. The rules didn’t matter to me, but I expected my question to bring him tohis senses, and I waited for the realization to wash the hunger from his face.
“Very much so. I would lose my job. But I can’t stop thinking about your pussy.” He tossed the ball back to the desk.
His words made my jaw drop.
