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Flustered, I quickly and quietly compose myself, slipping my heels back on and tugging my dress down over my hips.
I’ll wait for everyone to leave before I make my exit—otherwise, they’ll know it was me who was the lucky, or perhaps not so lucky, girl who was with Nathan.
My skin is still flushed and the burning in my core lives on as does the incredible feeling of him stretching me.
Arousal is quickly replaced with annoyance.Don’t play with yourself or I’ll know.Who the hell does he think he is? He’s nothing special and nothing my vibrator can’t sort as soon as I get home.
I’m lying to myself. It can never replace his electrifying touch and the way he makes me feel: adored and worshipped.
Bile rises in my throat when the women on the other side of my cubicle continue talking about Nathan. “Why is he still single?” one of them asks, and another replies, “Since his father retired, he’s committed to his work.”
“I heard his dad took early retirement because he’s sick but I don’t know how true that is.”
This is new information to me. What’s wrong with his father?
“I don’t know anything about that, but I do know Nathan Hart will never settle down.” Another woman jumps into the conversation. “Which is such a shame because according to Vivienne Cavendish he has the stamina of a mountain lion on the hunt.”
“Relentless,” one says.
“Powerful,” another adds.
“Unstoppable until the job is done.” Someone else interjects and they all burst into cackling laughter, making them sound like a coven of witches.
God, that makes me feel sick, but they aren’t wrong. Nathan’s body is built for the long game. And whoever Vivienne Cavendish is, I’m jealous that she has first-hand knowledge of what Nathan fucks like all night.
I hold my hand over my stomach at the mention of him being with another woman, hating that she knows him like I do. Maybe I’m just another accomplishment for him, or another challenge. And maybe I mean nothing to him at all.
But there is no denying the chemistry between us. Every time we touch, sparks fly, causing warmth unlike anything I’ve ever felt to tingle everywhere. It’s exciting.
Maybe I’m delusional.
What seems like a lifetime passes and finally, when the commotion of people using the facilities finally subsides, I tentatively make my way out of the stall and thank the Big Man above at the sight of the empty space.
Walking over to the sink, I lay my purse on it and clean my hands, while my brain revisits the conversation between the women.
I shudder at the idea of another woman’s hands on Nathan’s body. It fills me with such intense jealousy, it feels as if I could tear the skin from my own.
The unease I’m experiencing makes me question everything about who I am. Whatweare. What we’ve become.
We aren’t exclusive; hell, we aren’t even friends. I’m his secretary, nothing more, but why do I feel like we are?
And I need to remember my big overarching why. Why I am working for him.
It’s temporary.
Being with him or getting close to him is inappropriate. It’s unethical and I need to put a stop to whatever is happening between us, immediately.
I finish drying my hands and dig my cell out my purse to ask my journalist friend, Julie, if she’s uncovered anything new.
Julie
Not yet. You?
Me
Nothing. I’m hoping to have some information soon, though.
Julie