Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
My head raises instantly, and I look all around. I didn’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who the text is from.
I get one similar to this every day, multiple times a day. When I don't spot the man I'm looking for, I look to the open second floor to see if I can see him looking at me. Goosebumps have already formed on my arms, which is a good indication that his eyes are on me. But I've learned that even though I may not see him, he definitely is watching me.
What started as just flirty banter has gone to a whole new level recently, and after last night, there’s no doubt he’s stepping up his game.
First I was uncomfortable with the attention my boss was giving me, but I can no longer fight it. Even though none of my coworkers have a clue, Mr. Tate has an obsession, and that obsession is me. I jerk as the phone in my hand dings again, and I look down and read the text message: "Answer me. Did you wear that skirt for me?"
The professional side of me knows that I should answer him by telling him no. And admonish him for his unprofessional question. But I can't. I’m still mad at him, and I thought about it the whole night. And it was after pondering on the whole situation that I discovered my problem. I’m on edge completely because I’m sexually frustrated.
I grimace and look at my phone. I type in one word, in all its honesty: "Yes." My eyes are glued to the phone as the little bubble show up, letting me know that he's about to respond. It's like I can't breathe, waiting to see what he has to say.
And when I see his response, I suck in a breath. "Good girl," it says. A smile forms on my face, and I look around the office again, trying to spot Mr. Tate. Even though I’m mad, I still seek his approval. I mean, those two words, good girl, have my heart racing and my panties getting wet. I know he's watching me. He's always watching. It may have made me nervous before, but now it is my complete undoing. No matter where I am or when it is, I can always feel his eyes on me. It's like an ongoing sexual foreplay that keeps my panties wet and my body primed for more.
He’s stalking me. I know he is, but he's yet to touch me besides that slight touch of my wrist last night.
But I want more. My body craves him. And I know that it is forbidden. He’s the last person I should be interested in. He’s off limits. He's my boss.
My phone dings again. "You're rubbing your thighs together. You need more, don't you, baby?"
A soft whimper escapes me, and I bite my lip to stop it. He has me completely on edge, but I think he knows it, and I think that's how he wants it. I wasn’t lying when I told him he was making me crazy.
"Sara, can I get you a coffee?" I know I look guilty as I shake my head at Christy. She's standing at her desk that is right next to mine. She's been nice to me since I've come to work here, and she's looking at me curiously. "Are you okay?" she asks.
I know my face is heated and my eyes are wide as I stare back at her. "Yes, I'm... I'm fine. No, I don't think I need any caffeine today. Thank you, though."
She stares at me a second longer. “Is everything okay? How did your date go?”
A part of me wants to spill the truth about Mr. Tate and put all my burdens on the table. I don’t have anyone to talk about what’s been happening, and I know it would be helpful to have another woman’s perspective. But I don’t dare. I can’t risk losing my job. I give her my best smile, hoping to hide the worry and lack of sleep that is probably evident on my face. “Yes, I’m perfect. But my date... well, I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again. He was nice, just not for me.”
She nods. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone when you least expect it.” She lifts her cup at me and walks over to the kitchen area. I watch her to make sure that she doesn't look back at me before looking around the office again.
That's when I see Mr. Tate. He's come out of the shadows. He's standing on the second floor, his arms flexed as he holds on to the banister in front of him. He's leaning over, staring at me, and he doesn't seem to be worried at all about being caught watching me. I stare up at him, and his look intensifies. Even from here, I can see the desire in his eyes.