Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Morning,” I singsong, hoping he doesn’t look at me too hard.
He glances at me as I stand by his side in the empty elevator.
“Morning.” Not his usual cheery greeting. I was hoping for a bit more than that seeing as I’ve been off all week.
“My desk better not have been touched,” I comment, and he turns his head and does a slow blink. “I’m not afraid to cut you.”
He gapes at me, his lips slightly parted as he does the one thing I didn’t want him to do. “You… you’re wearing… I didn’t recognize you.”
I shift on the spot as the elevator doors open and then hurry through them.
“Do I look bad?” I ask as I power on ahead, stopping to laugh when I see yellow police tape all around my desk. Forgetting my question, I grin at him over my shoulder and find him still looking at me with that look of bewilderment on his face. “Did you do this?”
“I wouldn’t want to get cut,” he comments, still looking me up and down.
“Will you stop looking at me like that?” I whine and smack his arm.
He feigns injury, back to his old playful self and I follow him into his office. I take in the files scattered across the coffee table and the backwards binders on the shelf. “It’s good to have you back.”
I can see that. What did he do while I was gone? Nothing is organized. So glad I came in early.
“And I don’t look stupid?”
He stops and turns my way as the door clicks shut behind me.
His gray eyes linger on mine and I jump when he pushes a strand of my black hair behind my ear, a tender touch, so sweet and soft. It leaves a burning trail across my skin. “You could never look stupid.”
“I can see every fleck of color in your eyes,” I breathe, leaning closer and trying to count the shards of darker gray that cut through the ring of lighter gray.
He holds his breath and nibbles slightly on his lower lip as I stare into his eyes like a weirdo.
“What are you doing?” he asks, and I put my finger to his soft lips. He pulls it away and absentmindedly kisses the palm. “Wait… are you counting?”
I inhale sharply and immediately stop. “No. Not at all. I don’t count. Who does that?”
“You were counting.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
“I wasn’t.” I so was.
He raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement, hands searching in his pockets.
I squeak and race from the room before he can throw anything at me.
Then… when I get to my desk, I realize something…
Mr. Conti kissed my hand. I look at the space that still tingles from his lips and touch it with the tips of my fingers.
Shaking my head, I rid myself of any thoughts of my boss and his lips on my body and get on with my work. It’s going to be a long day.
Pax comes in an hour later, kissing my hair and commenting on how nice I look. I usher him on, scared to get caught being too close to him and I don’t see him again until his scheduled meeting with Mr. Conti just before lunch.
He winks at me as he passes and then shuts the door behind him. I work on, keeping my head down and busy until Pax leaves and takes me for bagels at a deli down the street.
“What have people said about your new look?”
“Nobody recognizes me,” I comment, smiling around a mouthful of beef, bagel, and mustard. “I went to the gym before work this morning and they almost didn’t let me in because of my lack of glasses. I didn’t realize how much they defined my features.”
“We’re able to make actual eye contact while we fuck now,” he jests making me laugh. “Instead of you just looking up at a blur of handsome features.”
“This is true.” My eyes are amazing now, I can just see so many things. It’s mesmerizing to me. I hope I never get tired of it.
I finish my lunch chatting and laughing with the man who shares my bed every night, but as is regular these days, his demeanor changes when I go back to the counter to order Mr. C’s lunch to go. Something I do almost every day, or whenever he asks. It’s my job even though I’d probably do it even if it wasn’t.
But then I’ve noticed that Pax is just a very jealous guy in general. All we have done on my week off is fight because now I’m actually dressed nice, if I even look at another man funny it’s disrespectful to my boyfriend. Aka Pax.
Because I don’t see how desirable I am. Which is ironic because that’s how he wanted me, isn’t it?
It’s getting tiring.
I’ve had enough.
At the end of the day, the way I see it is I don’t need him in my life to be happy. I was perfectly content before he came along. And now I’m all powerful with my secret sexy underwear, I have the confidence to tell him to fuck off if I must.