Chapter 7

7

"You've got to be freaking kidding me!" I groan, slamming my laptop shut and slumping back in my chair.

I finally got the full company month-end reports compiled for Bowie last week, and because Allen took his sweet ass time in getting me his, it's already time to start preparing for August's reporting. And, of course, my computer has just decided to shit out on me. Cool.

"Everything okay in here?" Cami asks from my doorway, raising a perfectly arched brow.

"No," I whine, scrunching my eyes shut and massaging my temples. "My computer is super laggy and the programs keep freezing without saving my progress."

Fluttering my eyes open, I scoot and swivel my chair, leaning forward to drag my purse off the bookshelf. "And on top of all of that," I sigh, fishing out a bottle of Tylenol and twisting off the cap, "I have another headache."

I pop two pills in my mouth, take a swig of water, and look up to meet Cami's gaze. "Other than that, I'm great. How are you?"

"Ugh! I'm sorry, Wren, that sounds terrible!" Cami pouts her bright red lips in sympathy. "How about we drop it at IT and go grab some lunch?"

"Yeah," I agree, grabbing my laptop off the desk and pushing to my feet. "I like that idea."

Scooping up my purse and sliding the strap up to rest on my shoulder, I follow Cami out to her desk. She locks her computer, grabs her cell phone and wallet from the drawer, and we head off down the hall toward the IT department.

I rap my knuckles against the open door as I step in. "Hey, Perry."

"Oh, hey, Wren," Perry says, peering over the top of his monitors and pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up his nose. "What can I do for you, girl?"

Batting my eyelashes, I hold up my laptop and push out my bottom lip. "I think I broke it."

Perry's mouth splits into a grin as he tucks a strand of his shoulder-length dark blonde hair behind his ear and stands. "I doubt that. But I'll take a look." He reaches out a hand, folding his fingers in a 'gimme' gesture. "Can you tell me what's been happening?"

Placing the laptop in his outstretched hand, I give him the whole rundown of all the issues I've been having over the last week or so and how it's progressively been getting worse. He nods his head up and down as he hooks the laptop up to his monitors.

"I'll run some diagnostics on it, see if I can find the issue and resolve it. Can you live without it for a little while?"

"Yeah," I say, hooking a thumb over my shoulder. "Cami and I were gonna go grab lunch. We'll stop back by in an hour?"

"That should be long enough," he replies as he sinks into his chair, his scrawny frame already hunched over the laptop and fingers flying across the keys.

I turn around, giving Cami a quick nod and following her down the hall. Stepping into the elevator, I press the button for the downstairs lobby. As the doors slide shut, Cami turns to me, keeping her voice low. "You know, Perry is pretty hot… in that grungy meets geeky way."

I chuckle softly. "I mean, he totally pulls off the hipster glasses and man bun, but he's not my type."

She toys with a loose curl as she muses, "You think he's single?"

"Only one way to find out," I state with a waggle of my eyebrows. "Check his socials."

"Ooh, good call," she says, pulling out her phone as we exit the elevator and make our way to the front doors.

The weather is absolutely beautiful today for being late August in the Midwest, so we request a table outside at the swanky little cafe across from the Vento Ventures building. The host leads us to a bistro table out front leaving us with menus and the promise to return with our lemon iced teas.

My stomach is already dead set on a chicken and garlic aioli sandwich, so I just lay the menu to the side and pull out my phone. I type out a memo to the department heads, asking for them to have their month-end reports to me by the following Wednesday. As long as Perry can fix my computer, that will give me plenty of time to review them before passing the reports on to Bowie.

Just as I hit send, the waiter returns to take our orders and the menus. While we wait for him to return with our food, Cami gives me a rundown on what she's found out about Perry's relationship status. Apparently, he is very much single and is also the guitarist in a band that plays at local bars on the weekend. She's halfway through trying to convince me to go with her this weekend to one of his shows he posted about when our food arrives.

We fall into easy banter as we finish off our plates and pay our checks before heading back to work. I told Cami she didn't have to accompany me back to IT to grab my computer, but she insisted on keeping me company. I think it's safe to say she's got a little crush.

"Tell me you could fix it," I say, clasping my hands together at my chest in a prayer sign.

Perry leans back in his chair, gripping the handles as he kicks an ankle up to rest on the opposite knee. "Well, I've got good news and bad news."

My nose scrunches up and I raise an eyebrow. I don't like the sound of that.

"So," he continues. "There was a file infector virus. Basically, it took little bites out of each file you opened and scrambled all the bites together, making your computer have issues reading things."

"Okay. So what's the good news, then?" I ask.

He leans forward, one hand grabbing the laptop, the other pressing against the desk as he stands. "There was a recent system restore point from two weeks ago that I was able to get you to."

My brows furrow together in dismay as I take back my laptop and thank Perry for his help. Cami follows me down the hall to our area, and I re-enter my office and sit down at my desk, plugging in the thumb drive Bowie first gave me to start moving over the programs, again.

I'm going to have to talk to him about the reporting. I think it'd be easier to just move forward with this month instead of burying people in two sets of reports, so that's what I'll recommend. I type up a quick email to my boss, explaining what happened and my plan for next month and hit send. I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't nervous about his response; I've barely been here a month and I'm already coming up short with my responsibilities.

He's been scarce around the office lately, and I haven't been alone with him since the breakroom incident. I can't decide if that makes me thankful, or disappointed. The heat pulsing between my thighs at the thought of him says it's the latter.

"Wren?" Cami calls out, pulling me out of my hopeful fantasy.

"Yeah?" I reply, swiveling in my chair and pushing up to stand.

"The main lobby called, there's someone here to see you and they're on their way up now."

The only person I can think of would be Drea, but if she was coming by, she'd text me a heads-up. As I'm racking my brain as to who else it could possibly be, the elevator dings, the doors open, and my jaw hits the floor.

"Trey?!" I grit through clenched teeth. I march across the lobby, the loud clips of my heels punctuating my annoyance with each fevered step. "What are you doing here?"

One of his eyes is rimmed with remnants of yellowish bruising as he sets his gaze on me. "You haven't been answering my texts or calls. So-"

I throw my hands up. "So you just showed up at my job? How do you even know where I work?" I fold my arms across my chest, tapping my foot against the tile like a petulant child while waiting for his response.

He pulls a couple of opened and crinkled envelopes from his back pocket. "These came in the mail," he says, handing them to me. "Just thought you might need them."

I pluck the envelopes from his hand, seeing that it's just statements on my company 401k and health insurance cards- I guess I overlooked the address when I got hired. I'll need to change that with HR, soon.

"Well, thank you," I murmur. "That was… nice of you."

He cards a hand through his messy locks. "Look, Wren. I know I fucked up and I shouldn't even be asking, but can I borrow some money? I'm short on rent."

"Are you fucking kidding me? No!" I hiss, my hands slapping down at my sides as I pivot on my heels.

"Can you try not being a frigid bitch for once? Damn," he grumbles, his hand catching my elbow before I can put any distance between us.

My blood boils, my temper about to get the best of me, again, when I see Cami eyeing me with the phone receiver in her hand. She mouths 'security' to me and I nod. I take a deep breath, trying to be less hostile than I feel.

"Trey, you can't just show up here like this, okay? I'm sorry, but I can't help you," I state, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

His eyes narrow on me, and before he can respond, Ethan, our floor security guard, grabs him by the arm. "Time to go, sir."

Trey's head snaps to the side, eyeing up Ethan's bulky frame, then back to me. "Jesus Wren. Security? Really?" His hand falls to his side.

"Let's not cause a fuss, mister," Ethan admonishes, leading Trey toward the elevator.

Trey gives me one last pleading look, and the way it tugs at my heartstrings is annoying. I may not be in love with him anymore, but I'm so tired of always being at odds with him.

Having to be constantly in fight-or-flight mode is exhausting. Being a kid in the system, I always operated from that mindset, and in college, I'd finally started to learn to relax a bit. Lately, though, whenever he's around I find myself slipping back into it, and it's just not who I want to be.

"If you promise not to come back here or give Ethan trouble," I tip my head in the burly security guard's direction, "I'll unblock your number."

My willingness to open a line of communication seems to diffuse Trey's anger. He nods and walks peacefully into the elevator.

Crisis averted.

"Wren-"

My stomach drops as I spin around to see a stone-faced Bowie standing in the doorway of his office.

"Come in here. Now."

Ugh, for fucks sake, this day is killing me.

Cami shoots me a sympathetic look as I pass her desk and stride into our boss' office. He's standing behind his own desk with his back to me, his hands in his pockets, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over Lake Michigan.

"Close the door," he calls out, turning around the moment I cross the threshold.

I can't get a good read on this man. I don't know if he's pissed about Trey showing up- I'd thought we'd kept our voices low enough to not cause a huge disruption- or if it's about last month's report not getting completed.

I press the frosted glass door shut behind me, taking a few calming breaths as my timid steps bring me closer to his desk.

He gestures for me to take a seat, so I slide into the tan leather chair in front of his desk. Funny, the last time I was here, my core knotted in excitement and lust at the recognition of my sexy mystery man. Now, it's a knotted mess of nerves.

I roll my lip between my teeth, trying to stifle the tears pricking behind my eyes.

My eyes meet Bowie's expressionless gaze and I swear the silence is too much. My body orchestrates a cacophony of anxious rhythms, heart thumping loudly in my chest, blood whooshing through my ears, and shoes tapping against each other.

I can't take it any longer.

"I'm sorry," I blurt. "For the report. I'll make sure August's is in your email by the end of next week. I don't care how late I have to work to make it happen. I know it's a huge-"

"Wren," he interrupts my projectile word vomiting. The corner of his mouth quirks up in the barest of smirks. "Or should I say, Rachel?"

My chest constricts, my body set ablaze by tingles of adrenaline coursing through my system.

I was ready to be reprimanded, but I wasn't prepared for this. Suddenly, I'm at a loss for words. My mouth hangs agape and my eyes widen as I stare dumbfoundedly at his stupidly handsome face.

With a full-blown smirk on his lips, he moves to stand in front of me, leaning back against his desk and curling his fingers around the edge.

I draw in a deep breath, trying to slow my frantic heart, but with his body just inches from mine, my senses are flooded with his heady scent.

Damnit, why does he smell so good?

"How?" I finally manage to ask.

He lifts his chin toward the door. "The guy from the lobby is the one from the alley, no?"

Of course, he recognized Trey…

"Yeah," I sigh. "Trey… my ex."

He didn't ask, but I want him to know I'm single.

Jesus, Wren. He's your boss now. Stop acting like a thirsty bitch…

"You're not surprised?" His hand strokes the shadow of stubble cast on his sharp jawline. "You knew," he accuses.

I roll my lip between my teeth and nod my head at him.

His mouth relaxes into a thin line and he goes quiet. The silence hangs heavy in the air around us and my anxiety swirls wildly inside me.

"It was the butterfly," I admit. "Ya know, your tattoo?" I point up to his chest.

Bowie's eyebrows furrow together as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Cazzo."

Pushing off from his desk, he runs a hand through his hair as he paces the room, muttering what seems like a string of angry curses in another language.

I don't know why, but suddenly I'm up on my feet, falling into step beside him. His muscle flexes beneath my palm as I rest a hand on the crest of his bicep.

Maybe I don't want him to be angry with me. Maybe I'm scared he's upset at who I turned out to be. Maybe, I don't know, but I do know I'm drawn to Bowie Sorrentino. There's something so dangerously beautiful about this man, the same way a shard of glass shimmers in the light. But one slip of a finger and the same edge that paints an array of colors will draw a nasty scar.

His head snaps around at my touch, eyes darkening, jaw feathering as he pins me under his gaze.

"I don't do this," he mutters, waving a hand.

Like being doused in cold water, the sting of rejection encases his words as they register and every single lustful fantasy flees my mind.

Heat creeps across my cheeks as I mentally prepare myself to slink back to my office and lick my wounds. I start to retract my hand, but his large one circles my wrist, tugging me closer as his other arm bands around my waist to hold me against him.

I breathe a gasp and I can see the conflict flickering in his hazel eyes as my fingers splay out across the hard planes of his chest.

Two fingers curl beneath my chin, tipping my face up to his as he traces my lower lip with the pad of his thumb. I don't fight the temptation that my body is begging me to give into. My mouth splits open, sucking his thumb inside.

The stifled moan that reverberates in his chest sets my core on fire, the predatory look of hunger in his eyes sending a shiver of fear down my spine.

Sinking my teeth into the flesh of his thumb, I tempt the devil, offering myself as his next sin.

"Fuck it," he says in a ragged breath before his lips slam down on mine.

Our mouths move in a fevered pace, teeth clashing, tongues lashing as his hands trail down my body. His fingers dig harshly into my hips, driving me back against the desk.

God, the way his hands roam my body, feeling every part of me- even over my clothes- has me eager for more.

I whimper, breaking the seal of our lips as he squeezes my breast. The adrenaline must be making them more sensitive.

He shifts back, hands stilling as his eyes search my face for an explanation.

No, no, no. I don't want this to stop. Desperate to not lose the moment, my fingers curl around his waistband, pulling his hard cock flush against my throbbing core. I make quick work of undoing his belt, popping the button on his navy slacks, but just as I start to sink to my knees, his hand fists my hair, pulling me upright.

"Ladies first," he growls, chest rising and falling rapidly before he spins me around, rucking my skirt up my hips and cupping my soaked panties.

"Cazzo, Passerotta," he growls, sliding the soft fabric of my thong to the side and I swear I almost come when his fingers glide across my skin.

His hand presses at the small of my back, folding me at the waist over the top of his desk. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I stare out the windows of his office and he drags my panties down my shaking legs. He taps my ankle and helps me step out of the skimpy fabric, his hands massaging my bare cheeks as his warm breath tickles my exposed folds. I feel the point of his tongue flick my clit before it flattens, widening and drawing a line from clit to ass and my thighs quiver as his large tongue darts inside me.

Trey wasn't as into giving head as he was into receiving it, so I don't have much to compare this to- but Jesus fucking Christ. It's so good. My core tightens and the dam breaks. Before I can even comprehend what's happening, I'm gushing all over his face. Slamming my eyes shut, I cry out in pleasure, his hand quickly covering my mouth and his thick fingers replacing his tongue as he pumps them in and out of me. I push my ass back, chasing his touch as I ride out the thrashing waves of my orgasm.

"Shhh, Bella," he whispers, thumb stroking my cheek. "You're going to be quiet so I can fuck you now."