Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“I might need a refresher. Care to show me?”
He leans up against the desk and picks up my pen holder. He sets it upright on the desk before he takes out a gold pen from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and drops it inside. Something about the act is oddly sweet, and it pulls at my heartstrings.
“I think we should get to work,” I say and walk past him.
I’m trying to distract myself from thinking about sexual things with Marcus as I pull items out of my bag. I can’t show him crap when it comes to sexy stuff. I know he teases me, and I’m not blind to the little bit of flirting in there too, but if he knew I’d never even been kissed, he’d be laughing and running for the hills. Maybe I should tell him. The douse of cold reality might shut all of this down so we can work professionally.
“If you say so, teapot.” He doesn’t move as he watches me unpack.
“Are we sharing this desk?” I don’t look at him as I ask the question.
“Yes.”
“Fine.” I try my best to conceal my features and give him nothing.
I ran from Marcus because of the way my body responds to being so close to him. Now I’ll be closer to him than ever before. There’s no way this isn’t going to end badly.
Chapter Four
MARCUS
“Stop being so bossy,” Bronte huffs as I clear out the empty to-go containers and toss them in the trash.
“You know I’m your boss, right?” I raise an eyebrow at her and then I’m rewarded with a tiny growl of annoyance. “And how exactly is making sure you eat on a regular schedule being bossy?”
“It just is.”
She spent so long emptying her Mary Poppins bag of endless knickknacks that by the time she was finished, I could hear her stomach growling. I ordered from the sandwich place down the block and paid the busboy to bring it to us. I didn’t want to miss a moment of her decorating our shared space.
“So is this everything?” I wave my hand around the room and then nod to the framed picture of the goose that says All my hours are bill-able.
“Not by a long shot.” She takes a seat in what used to be my chair. “This was all I could manage to fit in my bag.”
“Well then, I guess I’ll come home with you after work today.”
“What for?” The way she bites her lip gives away my suspicions.
“Because I’m willing to bet you were planning on bringing in twice as much as you did today out of spite.”
“No?” She says it like a question, and I can’t help but grin at her.
“As I suspected.” There’s a sliver of space on the desk that’s not occupied by her things, and I squeeze my laptop into it. Then I grab the extra chair I found in the storage room and take a seat across from her. “You forget, teapot. I’m eager to get my hands on”—my eyes move up and down her body before I lick my lips—“anything of yours.”
“You always have to make everything sound so dirty.” Her cheeks are bright red as she types on the keyboard in front of her and pretends to ignore me. Try as she might, I know she’s not as unaffected as she pretends to be.
“Me?” I shake my head as I open my laptop and pretend to work. “You’re the one that begged to be in the same office as me.”
I don’t have to look up to see her glaring at me, I can feel it on my skin, and it makes me grin harder.
“What was it you told me? You can lie to yourself but don’t lie to me. Because we both know I wasn’t the one begging.” She’s smug as she leans back in her chair, but she takes it too far when she tries to put her feet up on the desk.
“Bronte, don’t!” I shout, but it’s too late. The motion sets the chair off balance, and before she can stop herself, she’s tumbling backwards.
I’m rushing over in an instant, but I’m too late to catch her before she hits the floor. When I get to her side she’s on her back, and the chair is sideways next to her.
“Talk to me. Where does it hurt?” I run my hands down her arms before I put a hand on the back of her head.
“Where is my pride located?” She groans and closes her eyes. “That’s where it hurts the most.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I did the same thing the first time I sat in that chair.”
Her eyes open, and she blinks a few times. “Actually it does.”
“Stay still for a second,” I tell her when she tries to sit up. “You might have hit your head.”