Junkyard Dog

Awkward isn't a strong enough word for how I feel when I arrive at work after my lust tantrum. I don’t know how Hayes will react. He might taunt me or ignore what happened or try to fuck me on his desk.

As usual, Hayes is already working when I arrive. I poke my head into his office and study him. His hair is still damp from an early shower, and his soapy scent returns my body to lust mode.

Smiling casually, I ask, “Need any coffee?”

Hayes looks up from his laptop and stares blankly at me. “Will you hump my leg like a dog if I say no?”

Rolling my eyes, I leave him to gloat. At my desk, I try to concentrate, but Hayes looks too damn sexy in the morning.

I hear him get up from his chair, and the sound of his boots against the hardwood floor mimics the banging of my heart. I pray his gloating doesn’t last the entire day.

“Hey, horndog, get your coat, and we’ll eat breakfast.”

I stand up and go to the door without looking at him. Hayes takes one long step and ends up next to me.

“Don’t get shy now,” he teases, poking my back.

“I appreciate you not taking advantage of my stupidity last night.”

“It’s not stupid to want this,” he says, strutting ahead of me and showing off his ass. “There’d be something wrong with you if you didn’t want a piece of this beefcake.”

Despite turning beet red, I laugh at how he struts on the walk to the Waffle House. He opens the door for me, and I walk inside feeling like an absolute fool.

Hayes doesn’t say anything more until we order. I finally force myself to meet his gaze. I wish he didn’t look so fucking handsome sitting next to me.

“I do appreciate you stopping us,” I say in the most solemn voice I can manage. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man and clearly I was unprepared.”

Hayes nudges me. “Why are you so damn embarrassed today? You’ve put me through the ringer since day one. Can’t I tease you a little without you turning red and hiding your face?”

“I’m a sensitive woman.”

Hayes snorts. “Tell me one woman that isn’t sensitive.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Women are full of drama.”

“You know what,” I mutter, glaring at him, “fuck you. I have one moment of weakness, and you think that proves your stupid ideas about my entire gender.”

“That’s the spunky bitch I’m accustomed to. Nice to have you back.”

Smiling now, I lean my head against his shoulder. “I never masturbate, but I did last night. Twice, in fact.”

Hayes narrows his eyes. “Damn, woman. How did we go from me in control to you making me feel like a horny chump?”

“Your fault for showing me pity,” I say, batting my eyes at him. “Now I’m back in the game.”

Hayes grudgingly smiles. “I jacked off three times last night, so I think I win.”

“Yeah, but were you thinking of me every time?”

“Yep. You were a dirty girl in my head. I could barely keep up with you.”

Beet red again, I laugh. “I’m lazy in bed. Not at first, but I get bored and just go through the motions.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t grab my hair during blowjobs,” I whisper. “I panic when my hair is pulled and feel the urge to lash out. I’m sure your dick would survive. Your tender balls probably not so much.”

Hayes studies me with his hypnotic, dark eyes. “Well isn’t that something? My dick reacted positively to your threats.”

I pat his hand and sweetly gaze into his eyes. “I know you’re worried about being vulnerable during sex, but I promise I won’t hurt or scare you while we’re knocking boots.”

“Is that your version of sensitivity?”

“No, that’s me being seductive.”

Hayes grins. “If you keep up this shit, I’m taking you somewhere private after breakfast and working off these calories.”

I hold his gaze and imagine finally knowing what we’re like in bed. If it’s a train wreck, we can be friends. Or employer, employee. If it’s great, we can be more. At this point, I don’t even care what more means.

“Yes,” I say, answering a question he hasn’t asked.

Hayes studies me and then nods casually. He understands what I want. No reason to discuss it further. We eat our breakfast and talk about work. Hayes mentions a fire at a competitor’s restaurant overnight. I know he wouldn’t mention someone else’s problem if he weren't behind it. I smirk at his feigned concern.

“People need to know their place,” I say, mimicking something Hayes has told me a million times in the short period I’ve worked with him.

“I agree.”