Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
It’s saying I like him.
Huge problem.
“And, uh, what happened earlier,” I say, clearing my throat, “was just a lapse in judgment. I’m a professional, Mr. Frost.”
He doesn’t remark on my words, simply studies me for a long beat before giving me a clipped nod. “Very well then.”
I grin as I stand up. His eyes fall to my dick and widen. It’s not my fault he’s so damn hot that I can’t seem to keep my dick in check around him.
“The tight pants go against dress code,” he grumbles. “Find some better fitting ones by tomorrow.”
I don’t tell him all my pants fit like this. It’s just the style I like. He’ll get over it.
“Sure thing, Boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Mr. Frosty then?”
“Adrian will do.” An almost-smile ghosts over his lips. “And though I’m not silly, I don’t mind that one as well.”
Yep, I’m doomed.
I’ve never wanted a guy so instantaneously and so fully in all my life. With him being nearly forty and me just eighteen, it’s a bad idea under normal circumstances. But, now that he’s also my boss, he’s pretty much in an untouchable category.
But you already touched him.
Several times in fact.
“Get to work, Mr. Moore,” he says, wiping his almost smile from his face. “Earn your keep for at least today. I can’t promise I won’t fire you tomorrow.”
“It’s Rylan,” I throw back, “and once you realize how much I can help, you’ll never fire me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll try and keep me forever.”
His features soften once again. I can almost imagine his lips hovering over mine as he takes my ass, staring at me as though I’m the most precious thing in his world.
God, I am such a hopeless romantic.
Unfortunately, there’s no room for romance at this magazine.
I need to keep my eyes on the road ahead of me. I just wish it wasn’t so hard now that Adrian Frost has stepped directly in my path.
Three
Adrian
Rylan was right.
He is good. Really good.
And also distracting as fuck.
I made it through my meetings all week easily enough, but any time he walked into my office to bring me files I didn’t even know I needed or to bring me a coffee refill, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
This is a problem.
He’s a man.
Since when do I like men?
I don’t. Quite honestly, I don’t like anyone. I’m not sure if that’s a thing or not. Never have I had such an overwhelming attraction to someone like I do with Rylan. When he walks by, I drink him in, inhaling him and checking out whatever body part I can.
The office has long since closed for the day, all employees gone. I’m left alone, burning the midnight oil as per usual when I hear it.
A growl.
So I’m not alone.
“Hello?”
“Sorry,” Rylan says back. “I missed lunch. My stomach is not happy.”
Guilt claws its way up inside me. He’s only been here a week and he’s more than proven himself. He works through lunch every day and is the last one besides me to leave. After the first day, I spoke with Dante, unnerved by my new employee. He suggested I get to know my assistant a little and maybe I won’t run this one off. At first, I was resistant, clinging to the line that clearly needed drawing between employer and employee, but as the week wore on, Dante’s words dug their claws into me.
I want to know more about Rylan.
I’m insanely curious to know what he likes and what he doesn’t. Why he doesn’t own pants that aren’t skintight. How come he doesn’t know how to use an iron. His dreams and nightmares. All of his quirks and habits. Favorite foods and colors and smells.
His smell is my favorite.
It’s because I want to get to know my assistant better in order to make his working for me more pleasant that I make the decision to have him over for dinner.
Not his smell.
That’s just a bonus.
“Mr. Moore,” I call out, my voice husky. “Can you come here?”
Seconds later, he appears in the doorway, handsome and smirking. That smirk fucking kills me. Twice this week, I’ve gone home and shamelessly jerked off just thinking about his plump, dark pink lips. I’m not one for self-pleasure. It doesn’t appeal to me. Yet, any time I see or think about Rylan, I have the urge to relieve the overwhelming desire building inside me.
“You’re hungry.” My words are clipped and cold. “You need to eat.”
“I will,” he assures me, his brown eyes bright with amusement. “Just finishing up something for Tad that he needs Monday.”
“Five minutes and then we’re leaving.”
“We?” Confusion mars his beautiful face. “As in together?”
I drop my gaze to my desk. “You’re coming to my apartment for dinner. My friend Dante thinks I need to get to know you better.”
“I see,” he says, a smile in his voice, though I can’t be sure because I refuse to look at him. “There are tons of restaurants nearby. Why your apartment, Mr. Frosty?”