The last two weeks have proven to be a titanic struggle. My feelings for Roxy have only grown, but our relationship has been more or less confined to the club. We see each other at work, but we try to be on our best behavior. We talked about it, and we’re clear on things. It’s better if no one knows. She’s even tried dressing a little more . . . well, I’d say modestly, but it’s just not working. I swear I go home with a case of blue balls every day after work.
Thankfully, I’ve gotten to relieve them with her a few times after work. But an hour here or there of passion in the back room just isn’t enough. I want more. I want to be able to strut through the city with her on my arm like she’s my real girl. At work, as bad as it may look and sound, and at the club most of all. Rules be damned. The fact that I can’t bugs the shit out of me, and it’s getting harder to keep my desire under wraps.
Her last two performances for Club Jasmine have exceeded all our expectations, bringing in hungry crowds every weekend to hear the hot new voice everyone is talking about. It’s to the point where I feel like we should be cutting her a bigger check for the amount of business she brings in.
My obsession hasn’t taken long to start affecting my work and personal relationships, too. Some of my reports to corporate have been flawed because I’ve been devoting a lot of time to the club and helping get Roxy’s name out there. I know Elena’s probably feeling like I’ve lost trust in her. Even Sophie has begun to wonder what’s up.
I’ve made a pact with myself to do better and get control over my desire, but every time I see Roxy, I can’t stop the emotions. It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to hide it. I love seeing her happy, seeing that spark in her eyes just after she gets off stage and taking her to the back and drowning in her. It’s like I’m addicted to her smile. And being with her pulls me deeper into the addiction. I find myself . . .
“Sir, your friend Nathan is on line two,” Elena tells me, snapping me back to the fact that I’m at work. It’s Thursday, nearly one week from Roxy’s last show-stopping performance. Already, I’m counting down the minutes until I can see her again. She said that she had some new songs she wanted to introduce to keep things fresh. If they’re half as sexy as most of her performances, I’m going to need to do that ice bucket challenge thing to keep myself under control.
“Thank you,” I say. “And can you get me the . . . uh, the report on the . . . oh, damn it.”
Elena stops, giving me a raised eyebrow. “Sir, are you okay? You seem really . . . off lately.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, knowing I sound like a lying asshole. “Just busy strategizing for next quarter.”
She knows it’s bullshit. “Well sir, sometimes a little break can help. But if you’d like, I have the quarterly projections from each of the divisions ready. Shall I get them ready for you?”
I sigh, nodding. “Thank you for that, Elena. I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course, sir.”
I white knuckle the desk when she’s gone, cursing myself for being a fool. She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell it’s obvious to Elena that something is going on between me and Roxy. Roxy’s been by my office too often. I thought we’d done a good job of being professional since that elevator incident, but it’s definitely getting harder to keep my hands to myself when I see her. So far, only Elena seems to suspect something, or at least she’s the only one I know of.
The flashing of my desk phone pulls me out of my thoughts. Shit! Nathan! “Yeah, Nathan.”
“Yo!” Nathan says, his voice filled with excitement.
“What’s up? You know I prefer not to talk at work.”
Nathan guffaws. “Dude, you’re not gonna believe this shit.”
“Spit it out,” I hiss irritably, wanting him to hurry up and get to the point. He might not take it seriously, but dammit, calling on my work line during work hours for something club related isn’t cool!
“A music exec’s assistant called me. He wants to come to Roxy’s next show.”
“The exec himself?” I ask, sitting forward. “Holy shit.”
“No, the assistant. He’s more like a talent scout. He wants to see the show first, and if he likes it, he’ll pass on the word. Shit, man, this is motherfucking big time!”
My heart thumps in my chest at the good news. It’s something that Roxy had given up on, and she hasn’t seemed like she thinks it’s a possibility anymore, even with performing at Club Jasmine. This news would excite her in ways she hasn’t been in a long time. “Roxy will love to hear this,” I say, glancing out the office window. I can’t see her in her cubicle. She must be out doing something.
“Ya think? Dude, she’s bringing in so much business. Listen,” Nathan says, his voice dropping, “When you told me about karaoke night, I was like ‘eh, it won’t hurt, and it’ll let my boy get his rocks off.’ Then when I saw her, I had ideas, but I never thought this would happen. If this continues to go well, we’re gonna have to start giving her more money, because she sure as fuck deserves it.”
“She does,” I confirm. “Okay, I’ll pass it along to Roxy, but I’ve got to handle some business here. So I’ll skip the club tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure, man. Actually, I’ll see you at the show. I’ve got some business of my own tomorrow. Bye.”
I hang up the phone. Other than the good news, Nathan didn’t say anything that I wasn’t already thinking to myself. I’ve been thinking about this the past week and started working on a surprise that should be finished any moment now. I’ll start by giving her the respect and station that she deserves. Something to show she’s important.
I guess I’ve now got a double surprise. A smile forms on my lips as I check my tie and leave my office, going out to the floor. I check Roxy’s cubicle, but she’s not at her desk again, so I go looking for Hannah. She always knows where Roxy is.
“Hello, Mr. Stone,” Hannah greets me politely. In all the times I’ve talked with her in the past two weeks, she hasn’t said anything. Roxy tells me that Hannah doesn’t suspect the sexual side of our relationship and she’s told her we’re being professional, though I’m not sure if she’s just saying that to calm my worries. I mean, I did lay a kiss on Roxy right in front of Hannah. She even joked about it.
Before I can ask where Roxy is, she smirks. “She’s down in the supply room getting something for—” She doesn’t get to finish her words, as a familiar and now thoroughly unwanted face walks over.
“Matt.”
“Yessir,” he says behind me in his slight Southern drawl.
“New policy. Get your own shit from the mail and supply rooms. Your co-workers have their own jobs to do. Thanks.”
He sputters, and I walk off, giving Hannah a little wink as I do. I walk down the stairs to the supply room, where I find Roxy struggling with an armload of junk that makes me wonder what is going on in Matt’s head. “Hey.”
She jumps in surprise. She was so focused on trying to find what’s on her list. “Mr. Stone, what—”
I reach out, taking the object from her hand, a red Swingline stapler, and put it back on the shelf. “Shh, you don’t need to be doing this,” I tell her. “He can get his own shit.”
A smile hits her face. “If you insist. Definitely not going to argue against that.”
I close the door, smiling. “I do.”
I approach her, her perfume filling my nostrils and making my head spin in that oh, so familiar and needed way. It’s been at least two days since I got in this close, and I can’t help myself. She arches her neck as I inhale deeply. “Actually, I have a surprise for you.”
“Please tell me it’s as big as the one in your pants,” she says huskily. “I . . . oh, God, we’re not supposed to do this at the office.”
“Not quite that big. But I still think you’ll be impressed by its size.” I take her hand and place it on my crotch, lowering my lips to kiss her. She melts into my touch, and I’m so tempted to take her here and now. But I can’t. She squeezes my cock through my pants before I step away, both of us breathing heavily. “So, are you impressed?”
“Your ego is showing,” she says, giving me some of that sauciness that I adore. “Careful it doesn’t get bigger.”
“You love it,” I tease. “And you need it.”