Page 70
Story: Long for Me
“I’m not. I swear it. But you need to start talking to me, Rebecca, and stop assuming. I don’t have a date for tomorrow. There’s no other woman I want. Only you.”
What?
He pulled my hands to my lower back, wedged them between his waist and my back and pulled until I was standing, and with his free hand, he pressed into my stomach.
His lips trailed down my neck, and shivers of delight heated my flesh. “Damn you. You had me make that appointment last week, when we weren’t even together.”
“Like I said,” he whispered, his voice gritty and thick. “Do I strike you as a man who doesn’t know what he wants?”
He spun me before I could think, pinned me between the counter and him. He left me breathless and dizzy and it wasn’t entirely from the sudden movements.
“You...what?”
“No more talking. You’ve driven me crazy with the need to be inside of you. We’ll figure everything else out later, okay?” He turned, glared at the file still on the kitchen counter and back to me, growling. “All of it.”
Before I could respond—and what was there to respond with besidesyippee!—he lifted me. I hitched my thighs on his hips and wrapped my hands around his neck while he carried me to my room.
Where he then spent many, many hours doing beautiful things to me that never once felt evil or wrong, but perfect and absolutely lovely.
And when I woke, expecting to be held in his arms like he always held me, I found nothing except disheveled covers and another folder on the pillow next to me.
A note on top read:
Jakobs is not the only one who recognizes your talent. This was printed before yesterday in case you begin thinking I’m offering this only because he did. I was planning on giving it to you tonight at dinner.
Take the day off. Spend your time thinking.
I will pick you up at seven thirty and expect a decision.
B
I set the note aside, smiling at how even in his sweetness he was still a bossy, arrogant prick.
Then I fluffed the pillows behind me and sat up, gingerly bringing the file into my lap. Once opened, all the blood rushed from my face, chilling me.
A job offer. Not an executive assistant.
Vice President?
What?
He pulled my hands to my lower back, wedged them between his waist and my back and pulled until I was standing, and with his free hand, he pressed into my stomach.
His lips trailed down my neck, and shivers of delight heated my flesh. “Damn you. You had me make that appointment last week, when we weren’t even together.”
“Like I said,” he whispered, his voice gritty and thick. “Do I strike you as a man who doesn’t know what he wants?”
He spun me before I could think, pinned me between the counter and him. He left me breathless and dizzy and it wasn’t entirely from the sudden movements.
“You...what?”
“No more talking. You’ve driven me crazy with the need to be inside of you. We’ll figure everything else out later, okay?” He turned, glared at the file still on the kitchen counter and back to me, growling. “All of it.”
Before I could respond—and what was there to respond with besidesyippee!—he lifted me. I hitched my thighs on his hips and wrapped my hands around his neck while he carried me to my room.
Where he then spent many, many hours doing beautiful things to me that never once felt evil or wrong, but perfect and absolutely lovely.
And when I woke, expecting to be held in his arms like he always held me, I found nothing except disheveled covers and another folder on the pillow next to me.
A note on top read:
Jakobs is not the only one who recognizes your talent. This was printed before yesterday in case you begin thinking I’m offering this only because he did. I was planning on giving it to you tonight at dinner.
Take the day off. Spend your time thinking.
I will pick you up at seven thirty and expect a decision.
B
I set the note aside, smiling at how even in his sweetness he was still a bossy, arrogant prick.
Then I fluffed the pillows behind me and sat up, gingerly bringing the file into my lap. Once opened, all the blood rushed from my face, chilling me.
A job offer. Not an executive assistant.
Vice President?
Table of Contents
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