Chapter Twenty-Two

Stephanie

I got little sleep last night. My thoughts were flying at breakneck speed, full of excitement and affection and, yeah, lust. I considered pleasuring myself, but I controlled the urge, figuring I’d be primed and raring to go today.

Perhaps I’ve taken advantage of Alfie, because I sometimes roll in a few minutes late to work, and he’s never confronted me about it. Not today. Today, I pull into his drive five minutes early.

He said our date would be today after work, but part of me wonders if he’ll greet me at the door wearing nothing but a smile. I spent many hours last night imagining what he’ll look like down there.

He’s a big male, a bull. He’s got to be hung, right? And although I wonder if a guy can be too big, Amanda sure didn’t seem to be complaining the morning of my interview. So I shelve the big question of whether he’ll fit or not.

“Stop!” I practically shout into my empty car as I wonder what it will feel like to slide my palms through the fur on his back or lick the inside of his distinctly minotaur ear. I’ll get there in due time.

As I approach the house, one question is answered, he is not wearing nothing but a smile. He’s standing on the porch, waiting for me. That’s a first. And although he’s wearing clothes, which I regret, he’s definitely wearing a smile, although there’s a hint of caution in his expression.

“I’ve debated all morning if I should kiss you,” he admits before I step onto his wraparound porch. “Decided against it. We should have boundaries. That’s what the contract is for, right?”

“Boundaries. Yes,” I agree, wishing I’d never suggested the idea.

“So, you’re my employee until five.” Did he say that more as a statement or a question?

I almost say “Yes” and leave it at that, but if we’re going to be in a relationship, we might as well start on the right foot, with honesty.

“You’re the boss; I’m the employee until five. That doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking of all the things we can do when my workday is over. You said you had a game plan. My mind has been working overtime to imagine exactly what’s on the agenda.”

I’ve never been a flirt, but that wasn’t such a bad first attempt. Was it?

Instead of answering me, he grabs his cell phone out of his pocket and glances at it. I wonder what could be so important that he’s paying attention to it instead of me. After a scant second of looking at his screen, he shakes his head and says, “Damn. Can you believe we both forgot it’s Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day? It’s in the Labyrinth Corporation bylaws that no employee shall be expected to work on that day.”

He pegs me with a sincere stare, amber eyes filled with concern. Even his brow is furrowed as he asks, “Do you want to go home? You’re entitled to the full day off. Or… would you like to hang out with me? I mean… as long as you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t want to violate your corporate bylaws. And, as long as I’ve come all this way, I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I hung around.” I shrug, doing my best job of feigning nonchalance while trying not to burst out laughing at his creative and ludicrous idea for a holiday.

“Seriously, Steph, I didn’t make it up. Well, it’s supposed to be January 29th but since we missed it, I’m obligated, according to company bylaws, to make it up.”

I’m not sure what’s more hilarious, that there actually is a Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, or that he looked it up. Obviously, it’s not a national holiday, but I can roll with this.

“What shall we do?” His handsome face is tight with concern. “I don’t have any bubble wrap lying around. Should we go into town to buy some?”

“It seems to me that you needn’t have bubble wrap to appreciate it.” I’m still standing on the porch, so I ask, “Will you invite me inside if I tell you one thing I like, love, or appreciate about bubble wrap?”

“The cost of entry is that… and a kiss.”

Zing. A lightning strike of lust zaps through my body at his words. It’s barely after eight a.m. and we’re going to start with kisses? In addition to bubble wrap, another thing I appreciate is an overachiever.

“Okay.” I step inside, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

“I like the feeling of popping bubble wrap,” I say, meeting Alfie’s amber gaze. “There’s something so satisfying about pressing my finger into each little bubble and hearing that popping sound. It’s stress-relieving, like a little burst of joy with every pop.”

“Burst of joy,” Alfie murmurs, our gazes still connected as he nods. “That describes things exactly.”

I step closer, tilting my face toward his. Alfie looms over me, his muscular frame and impressive horns making him an imposing figure. Yet as I look into his eyes, I see a warmth and tenderness that makes my heart constrict.

“Now, I believe I owe you a kiss,” I say, surprised by my own boldness.

Alfie’s mouth curves into a smile. He cups my cheek with one large hand, his thumb gently caressing my skin. I sigh and lean into his touch, my eyes drifting closed. Then I feel the barest brush of his lips against mine. It’s feather-light, tentative. When I don’t pull away, he kisses me more firmly, his mouth molding to mine.

My body almost goes limp in relief at being in his arms again. It feels like four years instead of four days since we kissed on that plane.

My hands come to rest on his broad chest, fingers curling into his shirt. Why, today of all days, does a confirmed nudist have to be wearing a shirt?

The kiss deepens as our lips move together, transporting me from the tiled entryway to another place and time. Alfie is an amazing kisser. My knees go weak at the sensual caress of his tongue against mine. I revel in the unique taste of him, the soft rasp of his fur against my fingers.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing harder. Alfie rests his forehead against mine.

As we pull away, he grins. “Happy Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, Steph.”

“Happy Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day indeed.”