"I'm a simple-minded fuck who can't read your mind, and even if I could, I would be so lost in the sheer volume of thoughts and feelings it wouldn't do me any good. I need you NOT to shut me out. To explain yourself. To help me understand you. To be your authentic self with me. But with concise communication."
"Oh, damn," she states, then whispers, "Pickle." Then tries to answer so I can understand. "Honestly, Bastian, I'm really worried about being able to pull it off. Being your work fuck buddy is easier than being your playdate fuck buddy."
"First off, you're not my fuck buddy. Don't use that term again. It's incorrect. Second, I don't understand why one is different from the other."
"Because one is sex to clear the air of our chemistry, so we're focused on doing our jobs without having to deal with the sexual tension between us. It's casual. It's office sex."
"Last night wasn't office sex." I interrupt her.
"No, but it was sleep-over sex at your place."
"Hmm, and the difference when we're at a ballgame?" I let the scenario trail off so she will tell me exactly how it will feel to her.
"It will feel like we're on a date."
"And your problem with that is…?" I cock an eyebrow, grinning at her.
"Pickle to your damn dimple." She wags her finger at me. "Wait a minute. Did Chad have to go everywhere with you?"
And … she's back in her head.
"Samaera," I state firmly. "I'm not doing this. I'm not going to categorize our time between office sex, stay-over sex, and recreational sex. It's just sex. And I'm not going to hurt you or break your heart. You're worried about nothing."
"My feelings aren't NOTHING!"
"I didn't say that. What I said was you don't need a safe word. You're fired for real. I'm not going to hurt you. Your heart is safe."
Her face jerks to mine, and her shocked, suspicious eyes narrow. "Are you serious? You sound serious. You can't be serious? I need the job. Bastian!"
"Fine, you can keep the job."
"I'm confused."
"You're looking at us the wrong way. The ONLY reason you have this job is that I simply hadn't put my plan into action to date you before you fell into my office. Choose. Date me, and I'll throw in working too, or break it off with me right now and I'll return you to your apartment. Samaera, I'm an all-in-or-nothing kind of man. We aren't going to have this conversation again."
She looks at me and asks, "You're serious?"
"Yes," I grin at her. "What's it going to be? Accept your elevated status in my life or not?"
Her eyes narrow, and she asks, "For how long?"
"Hmm, I don't know. How long do you need?"
"Three months."
"Deal."
We're rounding the curve in the road that opens onto the reason we went for the drive. It's a long straightaway, and there is no traffic. "Hold on," I tell her, then I push the gas pedal to the floorboard, and the Bugatti shoots from 50 mph to 240 mph down the road.
"OH. MY. GOD!" Samaera screams.
28
Samaera
Back at Central Park Tower,Bastian holds my hand as we climb the one hundred and twenty-three floors to his condo. Looking at his handsome face while he ignores the other people in the elevator in typical New York fashion, I marvel at the fact that he wants more with me.
When the doors slide open, we enter the foyer. I ask, "Does anyone live in there?"
