Never—not once in my entire life—had I so thoroughly been put off guard by a man. He was easily the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but what was most mesmerizing about him was something I couldn’t put a name to. Something internal.
“Thirty-two,” I managed to choke out. “No older.”
“I’ll take it.”
“You’re not upset that I didn’t go younger?”
“Nope. I was pretty awkward in my twenties.”
Him? Awkward? I nearly snorted before I said, “I don’t believe that.”
“Oh, believe it. I think there are still pictures lying around somewhere if you really need proof.”
“I would love to see that,” I replied with a soft laugh.
Something shifted in the air and his open expression closed off, a frown displaying the lines on his forehead. I wanted to take back whatever I said to ruin the moment, but it was obvious that Mr. Wolfe was done.
“You should head home. I’ve kept you long enough.”
“O-Okay,” I said, bending to the side and reaching for my bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded in return before spinning his chair around. His solemn expression was the last I saw of him and it stuck with me for the rest of the night.
4
Brian
From that point on, I mentally played out what it’d be like to fire her at least once a day. Sometimes more. Never less.
Today, I began with one of my favorite scenarios. The one where she, just like the last assistants, had barged into my office demanding a raise. Only instead of taking a perverse pleasure in the act of firing her, I took my pleasure by bending her over my desk and hiking up her pencil skirt. I’d start with a spanking until she pleaded for something else—until she begged for more. Only then would I pop her sweet cherry.
It might have been cliché, but damn if it didn’t get my motor running.
There was a moment of desperation where I entertained the idea of picking up a woman just to satisfy my urges for the time being, but the thought of touching anyone else held no appeal. So I took the matter into my own hands.
Literally. Two weeks of seeing her at least once a day had greatly expanded my spank bank material.
The reality of the situation was a hell of a lot different than my fantasies.
I still hadn’t decided whether or not I wanted to break my own rules by attempting to go after her. I knew which course my body wanted to take—hell, I’d had more inappropriately timed boners in the past two weeks than in the past two years—but I wasn’t the kind of man who got blinded by lust.
My brain was the one in charge of my decisions. It just still hadn’t chosen which path to take.
So I spent two weeks avoiding her as much as possible, which seemed to only make it harder to think of anything else. Jeremy’s constant presence didn’t make it any easier. Since learning the truth about their history together, I felt odd stabs of possessiveness every time he came around.
I shoved that thought to the side as I glared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Much as I dreaded the final hour of the day, I was also looking forward to it.
This afternoon, I’d be meeting with all four of the new assistants to give them their first paychecks personally, as well as go over the reports Janice made regarding their performance. It’d be the first time I spoke with Mallory alone since our meeting in my office on her first day.
Janice said nothing when I specifically requested Mallory be the last meeting of the day, but I didn’t miss the way one eyebrow arched. Try as I might to hide it, my interest in the girl was obvious to anyone who cared enough to really look. I’d gotten quite a few raised eyebrows from some of the older employees who caught me either staring at Mallory or looking for her.
The only people who seemed totally oblivious were Jeremy and Mallory herself. The latter could be chalked up to naivety. The former was sheer stupidity.
“Speaking of stupidity,” I muttered to myself as I stretched across the desk. “Send Jeremy in.”
Luckily, none of the new assistants had any serious problems during their first two weeks—my dumbass nephew included. They were handling it as well as anyone else we had hired.
Janice maintained that Mallory was a ‘shining star’ as she liked to put it. It took me less than a week of hearing that comment before pulling her application again and going over it a little more thoroughly.
Her degree put her above the qualification of a swing. In an even creepier move that I wouldn’t admit to anyone, I even contacted some of her old professors. She wanted to become an editor and every person I spoke to was convinced that she could—and eventually would—be damn good at it.