Hayes kisses me, and I turn to mush. Fuck him for being so sexy. I hate him for possessing the power to make me swoon, yet I love the way he makes my body react. Such powerful lust awakens my every nerve.
My fingers dig into the rough fabric of his shirt, and I tug him closer. Hayes can’t bow to my will. He pulls me against him, wrapping my body in his strong arms.
I don’t know how long we remain entangled together. My mind falls away, leaving my body in charge.
Sliding under his shirt, my fingertips explore his warm skin. Hayes tightens his grip on me, and I know he’s unsatisfied. The kisses are delicious, but he’s hungry for more.
“Not here,” I say when he finally allows me to come up for air.
“Fucking duh, Candy.”
“Why fucking duh, Angus?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair while my hands tease the seams of his shirt.
“People show up here unannounced all the fucking time.”
“Yeah, what’s that about? Aren’t you supposed to be scary? People sure don’t respect you much.”
“Watch it,” he warns, but there’s no anger behind his words. In fact, he sounds a bit uncertain.
Feeling brazen, I ask, “Have you ever fucked a woman in this office?”
“Sure. I did last night.”
Glaring at him, I ask, “What if I believed you? Do you ever consider how shit might turn out if you keep talking to me like that?”
“I think it’ll turn out how it was always going to turn out.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Hayes shrugs and turns away to pour me a cup of coffee. “I haven’t decided how complicated I want to make my life,” he says, handing me the cup. “You’re a good assistant, and I’m too smart to go back to those moron temps.”
“I am a great assistant, and I think I understand what you’re getting at. I’ll try to be less sexy in your presence. You should do the same,” I say, walking to my desk. “You’ll probably want to stop shaking your ass around the office so much. I can’t handle all the temptation.”
Hayes places his hands on my desk and leans forward until we’re eye level. “I don’t make any promises about keeping my hands to myself.”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you did.”
Hayes studies my face. “You’re a good woman. I’m not a good man.”
“No, you are not,” I say, holding his gaze.
“I’m not necessarily a bad guy either.”
“No, I suspect you aren’t.”
Hayes gaze tears me apart, looking for my every secret. “This is complicated.”
“Yes.”
“If you weren’t my assistant, I’d have gotten you in bed by now.”
“In theory, yes, you would have.”
“You wouldn’t be able to tell me no.”
“I can tell anyone no. It’s my gift.”
Hayes smirks. “Do you worry I’m your curse?”
“I do now,” I say, frowning at him. “I thought you were a fun fantasy before. Way to ruin the damn dream.”
Hayes stands up and crosses his arms. “I think I’ll kiss you again this afternoon.”
“I’ll schedule that in for you, boss.”
Grinning again, Hayes walks back to his office. “I’ll visit your douche-in-law after I get a few other things done.”
“Thank you.”
“Remember these heartwarming moments when I forget your birthday or name down the road. Oh, and I’m not giving you shit for Secretaries Day.”
“I’ll steal some of your emergency cash from the sugar container and buy myself something for Secretaries Day.”
I hear Hayes laugh quietly. He falls silent while working on plans for new housing units. I’m tempted to peek in on him and see if he needs anything. I know he doesn’t, and he’ll know I know he doesn’t. My lust makes me want to do it anyway. In fact, I’m fairly certain my lust will get me into loads of trouble sooner or later.
SIXTEEN - HAYES
The fucking irony is Andrew Mayer is a woman’s safe choice. He has a boring office job, managing a boring company selling boring products. He shoots hoops with his boring coworkers and has pool parties with his boring neighbors. When his pent-up energy needs a release, he grabs for his boring wife and makes her pay for choosing him over a more “wild” man.
I stop by his office where he sells blinds and carpet. He’s laughing it up with his moron coworkers when I enter. The look on his stupid face when he sees me is fucking priceless.
Asshole Andrew tries to send one of his coworkers to help me, but I shake my head and point at him. He shuffles toward me like a kid knowing he’s got a beating coming.
“Can I help you?” he asks as if he doesn’t know who I am and why I’m here.
“You have a house,” I say, lighting a cigar. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
One of his tubby coworkers rounds a counter, sees me lighting up and is ready to tell me to put out the cigar. Then the moron realizes who I am and his mouth clamps shut.
“Your wife and kids are sleeping in that house tonight. I don’t give a shit where you sleep, but they’ll back in that house this evening. Do we understand each other?”
“Did Honey talk to you?”
Exhaling smoke in his face, I shrug out my shoulders. “Are you looking to make trouble for me like you do your woman, Andy?”