He points at his laptop on the coffee table. “I already started a list of everything we need for tomorrow.”
This is pathetic. I can’t even be in the same room as him without getting the naughtiest thoughts while he’s effortlessly keeping it to business. I sit beside him on the couch, ensuring our legs don’t touch.
“We’ll need visuals for the two screens over the stage. Videos, screenshots, diagrams, numbers… That sort of thing. We’ll also set up a live feed of the phones while they are being used so people can see the app in action. Right now, I’ll work on those, with the help of the design team back home, while you prepare what you want to say,” he explains very professionally.
He smells so good, and his large body radiates warmth. My nipples harden under the thin layer of my bra, and I hate myself for how my core rouses. I’m so fucking whipped.
“Andrea,” he starts, with his low, masculine, and ever-so-sexy voice. Worried my naughty thoughts are showing, I stare at the screen. “We need to talk about what we’re doing,” he says gravely.
“You mean the presentation or the… other thing?”
“The other thing.”
“Okay.”
“I know now isn’t the time, but it’ll be in my head all afternoon, and I won’t be able to focus.” He passes a hand in his hair with a sigh, uneasy. “I’m not sharing you,” he bluntly says.
I gape at him, baffled. What? Is he asking for exclusivity? What happened to his whole liberal and carefree attitude about sex?
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean, you can’t see other people while we’re fucking.” Well, whoever said romance is dead was absolutely right.
I remain silent for a while, digesting the information. It’s not even that I want to sleep with other men, but rather principles. This isn’t what we agreed on. There is no such thing as exclusive casual sex. Also, I goddamn hope he means it both ways.
“Okay, first of all, what happened to ‘I don’t do relationships, Andrea?’” I ask, poorly imitating his low pitch.
“I’m not asking for the whole dating thing.” He sounds almost appalled. “I just won’t tolerate you seeing other men.”
“Is it out of selfishness, entitlement, pragmatism, or jealousy?”
“We work together, and I don’t want this to become a bloodbath.” His answer disappoints me. I hoped it would shed some light on his attitude lately. “Speaking of which, HR will have my head if we don’t sign a consensual relationship agreement.”
Oh, hell no. I don’t want anyone to know about my affair with my boss. “Lex, this sounds like a lot.”
“I know, believe me. But I can’t take risks. It’s my safety net if things end poorly and you decide to retaliate.” Outraged and insulted, I open my mouth to protest. “I’m not accusing you of anything. But Kelex is still young, and a sexual harassment lawsuit would hurt its image. No one needs to hear about us outside of Karen in HR. I’ll make sure the information isn’t disclosed.”
“Do you plan on ending things poorly with me?” I ask, unsure what answer I’m hoping for.That he doesn’t intend to end things at all.
“I don’t. But I can’t know how things will evolve down the line.” He’s right, of course.
“I’ll think about it. And for the no-sleeping-around thing, does it go both ways? Like, I can’t, but you can’t either?”
“I wouldn’t ask something of you that I can’t handle myself.”
“So, you won’t?” I insist, despising the faint hope I can hear in my voice.
“I won’t.”
Trying to hide my satisfaction, I nod. It may be stupid and sentimental, but knowing he is all mine for now is incredible.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? He isn’t mine, and I’m not his. We’re just fucking each other. Exclusively. And we’ll make it official with a legal contract.
That’s … something.
“So, just so we’re clear… We’ll keep fooling around, we won’t see other people, we will make it official with HR, but we aren’t actually together?” I summarize.
Just then, he sees it. What he’s asking for isn’t casual anymore. It’s the beginning of something.
