Page 136 of One Bad Idea

I loved souvenirs. And I wanted one again.

I wantedhimagain.

Damn it.

But it didn't matter. Thatwasn'tgoing to happen, as I'd told both of us in no uncertain terms. So I tried the next best thing, replaying last night's events and letting my own fingers substitute as best they could.

My fingers were talented enough, but compared to the real thing?Not hardly.

By the time I finally crawled out of bed, I'd replayed last night's events two times and was craving a third.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Hewas wrong with me, that's what.

But it wasn't until I rummaged through my purse and discovered the metal-head T-shirt that I realized I'd need to pop into the office, even though it was a Saturday.

In all of last night's excitement, I'd forgotten to leave the shirt on his desk. Part of me said to forget it. But the other part – the oh-so sensible part – assured me that it would be weird tonotleave it.

After all, itwasmy turn.

And besides, I wanted him to know that nothing had changed. With the sex out of our system, we were officially back to our regular employee-boss relationship.

It was such a perfect plan.

Unfortunately, it failed miserably sometime around noon when I swung by the office, only to find him there alone.

One thing led to another, and we ended up deciding that the deal didn’ttrulystart until Monday morning, so there was no harm in some Saturday fun, right?

Saturday fun led to Sunday bliss, and by the time Monday rolled around, I was having serious doubts that I'd ever be able to resist him again.

It didn't help that he'd broken with tradition by leaving something for me to find on my desk, even though it wasn't yet his turn.

It was a snack wrapper from the same brand of candy bar that we'd shared on Friday night. Like everything else, it was annoying and funny, and made me smile in spite of myself.

But it wasn't until I actually picked up the wrapper – and realized there was something inside – that I actually laughed out loud. It was a pen, notmypen, but rather a new pen, still in its original packaging.

According to the promotional text, it was something called a tactical pen, supposedly for self-defense. But that wasn't the thing that made me laugh. It was the huge text proclaiming it to be virtually indestructible.

And it wrote beautifully, too. I knew this because it became my new favorite writing utensil – not for sentimental reasons, I told myself, but rather because it reallydidhold up to tons of abuse.

After that initial week, Jaden and I fell into a crazy new pattern. Every Friday, I'd announce that I didn't work for him anymore, at which point, we'd fall into each other's arms, or onto the desk,orinto his bed.

Yes, I did spend an obnoxious amount of time at his house, usually sneaking in or out, to avoid running into Jax.

The whole thing was surprisingly easy.

Their house was massive, and aside from the common kitchen and living areas, each brother had his own wing. Plus, Jax spent a decent amount of time out of town, which gave me and Jaden run of the house in his absence.

The weirdest thing was, it wasn't just sex. We played video games, swam in the ocean, and even made sandwiches together.

And yes, we teased each other like crazy.

In truth, I was having the most fun I'd ever had. And if things were just a little better at work, I might've found absolutely nothing to complain about.

But the sad truth was, my co-workers were still avoiding me, and now, they technically had a reason, whether they realized it or not.

I was sleeping with the boss.