“Damn. I heard Wolf was strict on employee conduct, but I didn’t realize exactly how strict until now.” She pauses. “How do you work with him day in, day out? I mean, is he always so rigid and law-abiding?”
I stifle the snort that wants to escape. A part of me wants to defend him, tell her that he did what he thought was right, that he has thousands of employees to keep in line, beyond the hundred or so here. But I’m afraid she’ll see through my defensive words to what hides beneath. Lies, to protect a hypocrite.
I don’t know what else to call him. By his words, I should be fired. And, technically, so should he, if it’s possible to fire the owner. According to his father, it is.
And yet I wasn’t about to stop what happened between us today. Nor will I do anything to stop it from happening again.
“He’s all right when you get used to him,” is all I manage to say, struggling to keep my face from going red. I’m still reeling from the sudden change in course. It’s mind-boggling, how quickly I went from quietly pining for Henry to being naked and on his lap. I guess there were signs; things that, were I not such an insecure, inexperienced person, I would have seen.
Who am I kidding? Never in a million years should I expect a man like that to be interested in a girl like me. But it appears he is. I can still feel how much he is every time I shift in my seat, where he stretched me with his fingers, and every time I press my fingertips to my lips to test the swelling there.
So what now?
Do I let this happen, knowing it’s wrong? That it’s against the rules? His rules? That it’s against everything that I’ve been raised to believe in? If we go any further than we have, it will change everything for me. And what about Jed? I’m thousands of miles away from him, making it easier to forget the hurt that he caused me, to assume I’ll be able to turn him away. But this thing—whatever this thing is between Henry and me—isn't going to last past the summer. So then what? I go back to Chicago for my last year of college, sexually educated by the hotel billionaire himself, and I’m no longer hurt? A lifetime of memories with Jed no longer affect me?
What if Jed does come back to me?
What if I can get past the hurt he has caused, only to lose him because I slept with another man?
Katie sighs, eying the food line. “This really sucks.”
“It does.” My work phone beeps with an incoming message. It takes everything in me to not dive for it in my pocket, knowing it’s Henry.
She heard it and now glares at my pocket through narrow eyes. “I’ll let you get your message from the devil. I’m going to get dinner.”
She heads for the line and I pull my phone out.
How are you?
Before I can chicken out, I type:
I’m confused.
I want to rescind the text as soon as it’s gone. He’s at Lux now. Even though he asked, I’m sure the last thing he wants to get is an emotional “confused” text. What if it makes him regret what happened?
I sit there, biting my thumbnail. Trying not to wait for a response.
Ten long minutes later, as Katie’s heading back with her tray, the three telltale dots appear, showing me that he’s typing. My heart flutters with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
I’ll clear up things in the morning. See you at seven.
Always so cryptic. I set my phone on vibrate and stick it into my pocket, restraining myself from messaging back because what the hell does that mean?
Is every day here going to leave me reeling?
~ ~ ~ ~
I step through the service entry door to the sound of Henry’s angry voice. “I don’t care what their focus groups have told them. This is not what my family’s business stands for!”
He leans back in his chair, rolling a pen between his fingers as he listens to the man give reasons for the strategy—demographics, the future, a successful Sandals campaign—over the speaker phone, the morning sun streaming in through the window, highlighting the streaks of golden brown in his hair.
Henry’s face is stony, his jaw taut. And yet he’s still oh so beautiful, dressed in a simple charcoal suit, white shirt and silver tie that coordinates well. “I don’t give a fuck what worked for Sandals. This is Wolf! We’re not a bunch of copycats and we’re not going ahead with this campaign, Blake.” That’s his six thirty call with Wolf’s vice president of marketing. At least he’s on schedule today. “Tell them to scrap it and start over and if they can’t do that, we’ll find an agency who can. Got it?” Without even acknowledging me with a glance, he gestures me over with that infamous two-fingered waggle.
I approach, unsure of how this morning is going to go. I’m guessing it’s not a good idea to bring up last night until I’ve tested the waters.
Blake grumbles an unhappy, “Yeah.”
“I’d like to see a new concept in a week for approval, since I can’t rely on my VP to get it right.” Henry slams his finger on the orange button to hang up. The finger that was deep inside me last night, bringing me to a quivering mess in mere minutes. I squeeze my thighs together with the memory.
“Morning,” I offer softly.
Finally, Henry turns to me, stress and anger painted across his face. “I have a meeting right now?”
“Yes. A conference call with Wolf Shanghai.”
He punches a couple of keys on his laptop and sends a meeting cancellation through Outlook.
Spinning his chair to face me, his legs splayed on either side of my body, he reaches beneath my skirt, his hands running up my outer thighs. His touch makes me wet almost instantly, the dull, needy throb between my legs appearing out of thin air as if it’s been simmering there for days without relief.
“Don’t wear these anymore,” he mutters, grabbing the top of my nylons and unceremoniously tugging at them until they slip to my feet. He reaches back up to grab the sides of my panties and pulls them all the way down my legs. “Or these.” I let out a small yelp as he grabs me by the hips and hoists me onto the smooth wood as if I weigh nothing at all. Peeling my shoes, nylons, and panties off completely, he demands, “lie back.” The soft, sensual Henry from yesterday afternoon is absent.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I stretch out across the hard wood surface. It’s not exactly comfortable. The sun is streaming down over me, forcing me to close my eyes and shield my face with my arm. It’s warm, at least.
Henry pushes my skirt up until it’s pooling at my waist and I’m bare. With hands gripping the backs of my thighs, he pushes my legs up and apart.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a shaky voice, acutely aware that I’m exposed in broad daylight and Henry is at eye level with the space between my legs.
“You said you were confused.”
I gasp at the first swipe of his tongue along my cleft, my legs closing of their own accord.
“No,” he growls, his firm hands denying me the moment of modesty, pushing them even farther apart, until the sides of my knees are grazing the desk’s cool surface and my pelvis is completely open to him.
“People will see!” I hiss, and yet I feel myself growing wetter with excitement.
His low chuckle vibrates against my sensitive pink flesh, only amplifying his tongue’s intoxicating strokes. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to see.”
His tongue dives deep inside me and swirls, eliciting a moan from deep within my chest.
“I was wrong,” he whispers, his breath skating across my most private spot. “Your pussy tastes even sweeter than your mouth.” He licks me again, this time flattening his tongue against me.
I’ve never had anyone speak to me like Henry does. It makes me uncomfortable and yet I crave hearing him say those words. I’m arousing him, and that makes me more aroused, more confident, more comfortable with what he’s doing to me.
I try to relax. With Henry Wolf’s face between my legs at 7:00 a.m.