Page 17 of Grace
I set everything up on his desk, just like last time. Then offer him a fork as I reveal the meal. “I told you I could handle the bacon.”
His eyes peruse me slowly as he nudges his mouse, moving some tabs around before taking the fork. A part of me wants to see what he’s watching. The other half is terrified that I’m going to catch him doing something as naughty as I did last night.
So I force myself to stare at his face and focus on how his thick brows crease slightly together, focus on his full lips and the greyish scruff on his jaw until he takes a bite of the meal I brought.
He pauses, eyes flicking to mine, and I sit down in my usual chair. “Is it too cold? Did I wait too long to—”
He swallows. “Don’t start second-guessing yourself now.” He loads the fork with another bite. “It’s perfect, Grace. Amazing.”
I beam, watching him eat with this smile on his lips. After a few more bites, he clocks my bright smile and stands to move around his desk. My heart rate picks up as he grabs the chair next to me and scoots it closer before taking a seat. My breath hitches as he scoops some of the sauerkraut on the fork and offers it to me.
“I don’t—”
“Try it. You did so well, Grace. Now taste it,” he insists.
My eyes don’t leave his as I move forward and wrap my lips around the fork. His stare darkens again, and his jaw goes tight. I notice a slight bit of pink fill his cheeks, not enough to be a blush, but with his dilated eyes, I wonder what he’s feeling.
I chew, chew again, barely tasting the food since I’m hyperaware of the fact that he’s focusing on my lips.
“Swallow,” he commands, his voice low and throaty.
I obey without question, and he sets the fork down. “You take orders so well, Grace. You’re such a good girl.”
Fuck. My throat becomes tight, and my ribs tighten. Every breath is short and quick. My chest can’t seem to expand fully. Daniel gently touches my knee, and the room spins, my thoughts taking me to the scene I saw on his computer and on mine.
“You have so much talent in the kitchen. I’m missing out,” he groans.
“But… but I cooked for you. How are you missing out?” I breathe.
“I want to see you cook. I bet you’re passionate. I bet you don’t apologize for a thing. I bet you order the ingredients around, take control, and keep it. I’d love to see you in your element,” he says.
It’s the kind of thing I always wanted Bash to say. But picturing Daniel watching me cook, cooking with me, coming up behind me and stroking my hips, turning me around, putting me on the island and burying his face between my legs—
Oh…
“I should go!” I say as I jump up.
“Is something wrong?” Daniel asks.
“No, no. I just… I should get a good night’s sleep so I can focus tomorrow. You know? You were nice enough to let me go home early, so I have to prove myself tomorrow,” I say quickly and head toward his door. “Please, enjoy the rest of the food. It’s all for you.”
I rush out before I can embarrass myself by putting my hand on his, by reading into his words.
He’s myboss. He’s my ex’s dad. That means I have to uphold some boundaries. Even if I’m not sure I want those boundaries.
nine
Istir in my bed, unable to fall asleep. My mind and heart race as I ache between my legs. The sound of the front door opening and closing lures me out of bed as I give up on the hunt for sleep.
I’m not going to start counting sheep.
So I crawl out of bed and open my bedroom door, heading to the couch. Ashley’s dressed in a black T-shirt and black shorts with ripped fishnets beneath. I blink at her as admiration blooms.
“Ashley?”
She looks up at me in surprise. “Hey!”
“Is that what you wear to work?” I ask softly.
