I stare at him blankly until I understand what he’s saying. “You mean he knows?”
He nods. “His fifteen year old daughter was killed by her boyfriend. Used to like to get rough with her. Smack her around. One night he took it too far and snapped her neck. But because he was a minor with no priors and had a very good attorney, he didn’t serve time. Got probation and community service. Didn’t matter who her daddy was, the boy still walked.”
I gape at him, horrified all over again.
Gazing into my eyes, he murmurs, “There’s no justice in this world for good people. Only evil gets what it wants.”
“That’s incredibly depressing.”
“That’s why religion was created. Without an afterlife to hope for, most of us would give up and slit our wrists.”
I sigh. “I need another glass of wine.”
He studies me, his face somber. “Do you understand now why I said I don’t have relationships? Why I don’t let people get close?”
When I nod, he says, “If we do this, Shay, if we commit to each other, you have to promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“That if you ever start to hate me, you’ll walk away. Because I already know I won’t be able to walk away from you. I already know I’m not strong enough. This thing with us, this connection…it’s everything I ever wanted, and everything I know I don’t deserve. So I’m gonna hold onto it as if my life depends on it. I’m gonna hold on even if I should let go. You’ll have to be the one to end it, if it comes to that. Promise me you will.”
Tears well in my eyes again. I’m surprised I have any left. “I promise.”
He peers at me very intently, as if to make sure I’m telling the truth. Whatever he sees satisfies him, because he nods and holds out his arms.
I lie on his chest and snuggle closer to him, as close as I can get. “So what do we do about the no-relationship policy at the company?”
“We work around it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we’re discreet. Very discreet. We continue on as we have been, except no more liaisons in the stairwell. We only see each other outside the office and preferably not in public.”
“So basically only at my apartment or your house.”
“I know it’s inconvenient, but if my father gets wind that we’re together, he’ll go ballistic. My brothers won’t care, except that it will make us all look bad, like we think the rules don’t apply to us. But the worst thing would be how you’d be treated by the other employees. Everyone would think you only got the job because we were sleeping together. It wouldn’t be pleasant for you.”
In his pause, I can tell he wants me to imagine all of it. Being snickered at, being ostracized, being hated by his father. Maybe even being fired by his father.
So much for making a good impression on the parents.
“You’re right. It wouldn’t be pleasant. Let’s avoid that.”
He hesitates. “If you don’t work for me, however, none of this applies.”
“If you’re asking me to quit, the answer’s no. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. And the best paying.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He plays with my hair while he thinks. “What if I gave you enough money that you’d never have to work again?”
“And what if I sewed your lips shut while you sleep so you wouldn’t say anything so silly again?”
He allows me to simmer in annoyance until I’m calm, then I sigh. “I’ll reconsider in a year.”
“About taking the money?”
“No, about finding a new job.”
“Oh.” He’s quiet for a moment. “But you do realize I’m a billionaire—”
“Stop talking. Just stop. I’m not interested in your money.”
His silent laughter shakes his chest. “Okay, sweetheart. No more talking. We’ll just lie here instead.”
He strokes my hair and back. He holds me like I’m fragile, and he’s worried I might break, every once in a while giving me a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. I’m spent emotionally and physically, stifling a yawn as I think about everything he’s told me and what the future will bring.
And I promise myself that no matter what happens, we’ll stick it out. We can make it, even though there are all sorts of obstacles. We’ll make it because we both want it to work.
It’s like I completely forgot how life loves to fuck me over.
Shay
The next day at work, I’m floating.
I feel as if all the clouds have been swept away from the horizon, and everything will be sunshine and rainbows from now on. Cole’s secrets have been revealed, we’ve agreed how to move forward, and if I’m worried about all the ways this could go sideways, I tell myself I’m not.
Scotty brings me an inter-office memo at ten o’clock.
Ms. Sanders,
Please bring me the audit report when you’ve completed it. I’d like to go over it with you.
Yours,
Mr. McCord
I type up that damn report so fast, the keys on my keyboard melt. Then I hustle upstairs with the report in hand, grinning like a lunatic.
When I see Marion at her desk, however, I try to act composed. “Good morning, Marion.”
She smiles and waves. “Good morning!”
Surprised she’s so cheerful, I stop at her desk. “How are you?”
“I’m doing great, thanks!” She glances toward Cole’s office and lowers her voice. “You’re in luck. He’s in a good mood today. Dare I say he’s acting almost human?”
I try not to show how happy that makes me, but if she looks close enough, she’ll see my heart beating through my blouse. “Really? That’s interesting.”
“He actually smiled at me. Can you believe it? Anyway, go right ahead.” She gestures toward his office.
“You don’t need to announce me?”
“He told me to send you in as soon as you arrived.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I head to his door, pressing the smile from my lips. When I knock, I hear an instant, “Come in,” from inside.
When I open the door, he’s already on his feet, headed toward me. I barely get the door closed behind me before he takes me in his arms and kisses me hard.
“Mr. McCord,” I say breathlessly. “You’re very eager this morning.”
He growls, “I should’ve fucked you before I left your apartment.”
Stifling a laugh because we’re standing near the door and I don’t want Marion to hear me, I grin at him. “But then I would’ve been late again.”
“And I would’ve written you another note. How did you get more beautiful since I last saw you?”
He peppers kisses along my jaw and down my neck, making me shiver. “I didn’t. You’re just biased. I brought the report.”
He takes the folder from my hand and tosses it to the floor. Papers go flying, scattering over the carpet. He reaches around me and locks the door, then picks me up and carries me over to the leather sofa by the windows.
He lays me down on it and pushes my skirt up my thighs.
I glance nervously at the door. “What are you doing? I thought we were supposed to be discreet!”
“I need to discreetly bury my dick in your perfect pussy, Ms. Sanders.”
Kneeling beside the sofa, he pulls my panties down my legs and removes them, balls them in his fist, puts them to his nose and inhales deeply, then shoves them into his pocket. Then he puts his face between my legs and eats me until I’m rocking my hips against his face, desperate to orgasm.
Before I can, he rises, unclasps his belt and unzips his slacks, takes his hard cock in his hand, and shoves it inside me.
“Mr. McCord,” I whisper, gazing up at him with my pulse flying. “This is highly irregular. I might have to report you to human resources.”
He takes my mouth and fucks me hard and fast, driving into me with powerful thrusts. We’re both quiet except for the sound of our ragged breathing. When I come, I’m looking into his eyes. I say his name in a broken whisper, and it sends him over the edge.
Jerking, he empties himself inside me silently, his face pressed to my neck and both hands under my ass. He digs his fingers into my flesh and shudders, then releases the faintest, most erotic moan.
We lie there holding each other and panting until Marion’s voice comes over his desk phone intercom.
“Mr. McCord, your father’s on his way to see you.”