Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
"I’ve finished the report you gave me, so I’ll be leaving now," she said awkwardly.
“Come on, you can ride the lift with me,” Chris offered with a grin.
“Sure,” she agreed.
Then she smiled at him. It was a smile that transformed her face. Made her look like a beautiful angel. I stared at her in amazement. How come she never fucking smiled at me like that?
I knew Chris was in love with Jennifer and nothing was going to happen in that lift, but I felt jealousy like I’d never encountered before. It filled my gut with acid and burned my insides to think of them together in that confined space. He would be able to smell her. The way I had. Maybe, her smell would intoxicate him, and he wouldn’t be able to help himself. The way I hadn’t.
It took all I had not to make up some reason for me to go down to the foyer so that I could get in that lift with them. Instead, I gritted my teeth, turned away from the sight of them walking together and went back to my office.
Two minutes later, I couldn’t stop myself. It was as if my body had a mind of its own. I called Chris. “Where are you?” I snapped.
“In the foyer. What’s up?”
“Are you… alone?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing. Have a good evening.”
Then my hand sent a text to Lillian’s phone.
Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow.
Chapter 15
Lillian
"How’s the new job going?" my mother asked from the other end of the phone.
My phone was suspended between my ear and shoulder. One hand carried a bag of groceries and with the other, I struggled to insert the key into the door of my apartment. I should have let the call go to voicemail, except my mother had a tendency to worry if I didn't pick up my phone. It was easier to just answer, however inconvenient.
It couldn’t be worse than the flurry of text messages that would follow asking me if something was wrong. She would even go as far as asking if I was still alive. Maggie said it would drive her crazy, but I had no real problem with it. I understood my mother had gone through a lot—from my father dying the way he did to getting married and losing a second, albeit useless, husband in quick succession. Then getting close to losing everything, and having to depend on her daughter to pay her mortgage.
It was a lot for anybody to take and probably made the world a very scary place for her. I got the door open, entered, and dumped my shopping bag and purse on the small kitchen counter.
"Sorry, Mom, what did you say?" I asked as I turned on the coffee machine.
"I asked how the new job is going?"
My body instantly stiffened as memories of the day came over me. And that unexpected text from him, and the way my hand shook as I sent him my reply.
As long as you understand that you
can look but you cannot touch.
I was behaving so out of character I couldn’t even recognize myself. I could just imagine my mother's reaction if I told her the truth of how my day really went. She had worked as a professional office support worker all her life, and if she knew how unprofessional her daughter had been, she’d have been horrified and probably disgusted too.
Thinking about it now made me shake my head.
I had sat on my boss’s desk and let him eat me out. Who in their right mind did that? A voice in my head reminded me that it took two to tango. I reverted the accusation back to Mr. Frost. Which boss ordered his personal assistant to come to work without any underwear?
Heat and arousal whipped through me at the thought of obeying that text; it was wrong on all levels but my body craved him. Him eating me out on his desk had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened in my whole sheltered life. That orgasm almost made up for all the rudeness I’d endured at his hands.
"It went very well, Mom, better than I expected," I said, glad she couldn’t see my face.
A sigh of relief came over the phone. "Oh, I am so glad to hear that. I was worried when you told me you weren't very hopeful about it."
I repeated the lie I used on Maggie, "Mr. Frost has a bit of a reputation for being a difficult boss, but he’s not that bad. He’s just a perfectionist who expects the same level of dedication from everyone around him, but he hasn’t found fault with my work yet.” That last bit, at least, was true.
"I am so proud of you, Lillian," my mother gushed. "You always were a clever little thing. Maybe you should consider going back to college. You're too smart and have too much potential to be working as someone’s PA."