Page 28 of Long for Me
“That’d be all. And Rebecca? Have a nice night.”
Another breath hitch slid through the intercom before I depressed the button. Moments later, her voice filtered into my office as she made the reservation.
I grinned down at my desk, plan taking shape. Also because the Chef’s Table was open and now reserved.
A semi-private table and large enough to seat eight, it had been my first choice. With three walls surrounding it, you could see the dining area unless you closed the thick velvet curtain for complete privacy, which we’d be doing. The Chef’s Table offered the best view of the city so when I fucked her there, she’d do it overlooking the entire nightlife population of Grand Rapids, staying completely quiet so none of the diners could hear her.
My dick hardened until my balls grew tight. I squeezed the tip through my slacks until the pain took the edge off and went back to work.
It didn’t last long. Rebecca’s perfume lingered and within moments, I was back to distracted, consumed by a woman who wanted nothing to do with my lifestyle outside of one night.
Fortunately for me, I knew exactly what to say and do to get someone to see things my way.
* * *
Apparently when it came to my personal life, I wasn’t quite as suave as I was in business. Shocking, really, considering when I walked into Luminous or any bar with a few friends of mine for a drink or two, women flocked to me and batted their eyelashes, rubbed their breasts against my arm to get my attention.
But somehow, that wasn’t exactly the same as trying to get Rebecca Morales’s attention if the arched brow and questioning gaze in her pretty brown eyes was anything to go on.
She gestured toward the cup I’d place on her desk moments ago. “What’s this?”
“Not poison,” I said, before taking a sip of my own drink. It was just like hers. Caramel macchiato. Too sweet for my taste and I sucked the sip down before I cringed. “It’s your favorite coffee from downstairs.”
She blinked. Before she could say anything, I swept my arm across her desk top. Littered all over the top of it were a half dozen identical cups, her name and drink scribbled on them. “You have three of them every day, and when I stopped on my way in this morning I got one for you.”
Her brow furrowed and she pulled her gaze from me to the coffee. I understood her confusion. Ever since I had her make the reservation at The Chop House I’d done a complete one-eighty with the way I was treating her. Probably for the first time since she started working for me, I’d actually told her to have a good night and meant it. I mean, I wanted her to go home and think of me, and get herself off thinking of me, that kind of great night. But I was trying to be respectful.
I wasn’t deterred yesterday when she showed up at work, cleavage baring shirt gone and replaced with her typical attire. I’d missed letting my eyes linger on the backs of her calves, her shapely legs and succulent ass since she was wearing a pair of wide leg trousers. Despite the fact I couldn’t see her curves, my dick still got hard knowing what she was hiding.
So I wasn’t exactly expecting a ticker-tape parade when I slid the coffee on her desk, but Rebecca had never been one to stay silent either.
It was the silent way she turned back to her computer without touching the coffee that sent a curl of regret deep in my stomach.
“Rebecca—” I stopped when her brown eyes, narrowed with frustration hit me like a right hook to the jaw.
“Something you need, Bennett?”
I opened my mouth to sayyou, but stopped myself. I’d sent her on a large enough roller coaster ride over the last week.
Perhaps she just needed more time to get used to the idea that I could be her boss and be her lover, and do it all without acting like I had a giant rod shoved up my ass.
“Make sure you have everything ready for the two o’clock meeting with Anderson. Be in the conference a half hour early so I have time to review it.”
I pushed off her doorway and went to my office, slamming the door closed with the frustration rolling through me.
Tuesday she’d shown up to work looking like she wanted me to bend her over her desk and fuck her if the outfit was anything to go by.
Yesterday, she’d acted like a complete stranger.
And today...well, I didn’t know what in the hell she was today, but I still had a goal to reach and the path of least resistance was never a fun one, anyway.
I’d get her begging and on her knees by next Friday, and then I’d revel in the victory.
* * *
From the moment the meeting with Anderson Jakobs began, I sat back like I was a spectator. You know what it feels like to realize you’d vastly underestimated your assistant?
Shit. Absolute shit.
