Chapter 25

I . Am. In. Pain.

My eyelids are heavy, and the room is too bright. I stretch my limbs, groaning at the ache running through them. The fuck…? Did I get hit by a bus? My head's killing me, and my muscles are sore. What's happening?

Oh shit. I got drunk. So drunk. We stayed at the bar until they basically threw us out. I vaguely remember a heated debate about Star Wars versus Star Trek, ending with Joseph and Brian making everyone in the bar vote for the best franchise.

I try to move again with a grunt. Shit… Twenty-six is too young to be this wrecked by a hangover. I roll over in search of my phone and freeze.

This isn't my room.

What the hell?

Two keycards are on the nightstand by my phone, and then I remember. I went to my room, changed my mind, and went to room 504. As I grab my phone, I suddenly recall something else.

Oh fuck. Oh, no. I sent texts. Booty call texts.

Utterly mortified, I summon the courage to read what I sent to Lex.

Oh, this is bad. This is so. Fucking. Bad.

With my face buried in the pillow, I let out a scream of frustration. Drunk Andy is a fucking idiot. I'm never touching alcohol ever again. I can't tell what's worse. The ridiculous emojis, or how he left me on read. But even I want to ghost myself, so I can't exactly blame him. I'm so pissed that my pounding headache becomes irrelevant. Holy shit, I hate myself.

How the hell do I keep putting myself in these situations?

I roll on my back to stare at the fixture ab ove me. I can't face him after this. I simply cannot. I need to be on the next flight to Peru.

With a tearless sob, I drag my ass out of the bed to take an ibuprofen tablet from my bag. "What the—"

It's filled to the brink with loose peanuts. My face is frozen in confusion as I stare at the weird contents for a moment. Last night was really wild, wasn't it? I shuffle through them to find what I need and head to the bathroom for a glass of water.

Then, I sneakily make my way back to my room, praying to God I won't encounter one of the guys. Thankfully, I don't, which allows me to relax a little. I proceed to get ready as fast as I can in my incapacitated state. Since I can't find it, I suspect that Lex took off with the thong I threw at him yesterday, and I don't know what to make of it.

When I arrive at the breakfast room, I instantly spot my colleagues, thanks to Oliver's red hair. Once closer, I see Brian and Steven are the only ones missing. I fill a plate with whatever feels edible—so, not much—and sit with the group in one of the empty chairs.

"Hey, guys," I say, avoiding Lex's gaze at all costs. They greet me back as I take a bite of my English scone.

"So, last night was pretty wild, eh?" Oliver says to me. Why me in particular, though? He senses my confusion and chuckles. "How much of it do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Well, I don't remember everything, but I sure remember you clapping back at that dude who groped your ass," Mace states with esteem. I stare at him blankly, failing to remember that moment. "Queen shit right there. I never want to be yelled at in Spanish. What was it you said when he told you to calm your tits?"

"Uh… Probably something like ‘ no voy a calmar mis tetas, co?o .'"

"I need to remember that one," Mace continues, still grinning.

I finally dare to look at Lex. His darkened gaze is on me, and it's easy to guess he's pissed. Well, today is going to suck.

"How much was the tab again?" Joseph signs.

"Hmm, I think it was $1998.75," Oliver answers.

"Yeah, something like that. We were missing around thirty dollars when they stopped serving alcohol. That's when Andy thought of ordering peanuts."

Oh, that explains my bag. "I, hmm… Maybe I went a little too hard on the tequila shots," I say, looking at the guys sheepishly.

"You certainly did," Lex mutters. I offer him a warning glare.

He better not start right now. First, he was pissed at me for no reason last night. Second, he asked us to make Hugh pay up, so he can't blame me for my alcohol intake. Third, he ignore d my drunken, pathetic attempt at sexting.

"How's your head?" he then asks, having the audacity to look like he actually cares.

Because I'm still a little drunk and feeling petty, and because of my obsession with RuPaul's Drag Race , the first answer I come up with is, "Haven't had any complaints."

I regret the words the instant they come out of my mouth, but it's too late. Mace spits his mouthful of tea back into his cup, trying his best to keep it from spilling out. "Girl, you didn't!"

Lex takes barely longer to react, but when he understands what I meant, danger flashes in his gaze. Clearly, he doesn't like to be made fun of. Before we can dwell on it, my unknowing saviors arrive. Steven and Brian sit with their trays, instantly becoming the table's new concern. Brian's wearing sunglasses, and Steven looks eerily anxious.

"Hey, guys. Everything alright?" Oliver asks.

"Peachy," Brian says.

"What's with the glasses?" Mace wonders.

The two of them look at each other for an instant, hesitating. "It's a long story."

"We have time," Lex stoically replies.

"Well…" Brian starts, "yesterday, after the bar, Steven and I were the last ones to leave, and we kind of did something stupid." He looks so sheepish and ashamed that I take pity on him without even knowing what it is.

Lex, on the other hand, doesn't. "What did you do?"

"You know the grand staircase in the lobby? We, uh, raced each other to the bottom. Sliding down the railing."

His hand slightly trembles as he removes his glasses, revealing a nasty black eye so swollen he probably can't even see through that side. We all stare in shock at his injury, utterly silent.

"Did something happen to you as well?" Lex asks Steven, his tone ice cold.

"Yeth. I broke a tooth," he says before offering a tentative smile to show us. He lost an upper front tooth and a chunk of the second one.

Oh, shit …

A surge of laughter bubbles in my chest, probably because I didn't sleep enough and still have alcohol in my blood. My eyes meet Mason's to my right, and I see he's also fighting for his life. Trying my hardest not to laugh, I bury my face in his shoulder.

"The sliding was fine. It's the landing that sucked," Brian explains.

I explode at the same time Mace does, and our hysterical fit of laughter fills the otherwise quiet room. I can't contain it. It's just unstoppable. Through tears of hilarity, I glimps e at the odd pair, chuckles spilling out of my mouth. Shit, it isn't funny. They actually got hurt. But every time I look at them, I envision them gliding down the railing, giggling like little kids.

I'm literally just calming down when Oliver amusedly asks, "Who won?"

"I won the first time," Brian says.

"You did it more than once?!" Mason shrieks.

"Three timeth," Steven corrects with a lisp. "Then they made uth thtop."

Just like that, it starts all over again for Mace and me. I can't even breathe at this point. "Bitch, we finna ask the hotel for the security feed. I gotta see that," Mason says through tears of laughter.

Oliver is amused as well but isn't laughing, just like Joseph. Lex, however, looks furious. "You can't do your presentation tomorrow," he states, barely containing his anger.

It kills our laughter at once. Shit, that is true. The presentation.

"I can wear makeup," Brian proposes. We all know the swelling won't recede enough for that by tomorrow morning.

"And maybe I can get my tooth fixthed."

"Do you have the missing piece?" Oliver asks.

"Uh… I think I thwallowed it."

Mason makes a strangled noise next to me, and I do my damned hardest not to laugh, either. Shit, this is ridiculous.

Lex pinches the bridge of his nose, struggling to remain composed. We wait while he thinks about all this intently, his clever mind searching for a solution. When he figures out the proper course of action, he's serious and contained.

"Oliver, you know the app well, right? You worked with them on it."

"Yeah, I think I could present it."

"Good," Lex approves with a nod. Brian lets out a high-pitched noise, halfway between a squeal and a whimper. Our boss immediately turns to him with a hard glare. "What now?"

Steven is the one to explain, "Maybe I had the prototype with me, becauthe we thought we'd work on it. And maybe it kind of broke when I landed on it."

"You broke the prototype."

"Yeth."

"The $150,000 prototype," Lex insists, eerily calm about it. We all wince at the reminder of the price.

When Steven nods, Lex closes his eyes with barely contained frustration. "That's my fault," he mumbles to himself. "I shouldn't have encouraged them to drink."

I genuinely don't know how it does it, but when he opens his eyes again, he doesn't blow up at the guys, almost composed. "Brian, get your eye checked before heading to the convention. Steven, you decide if you'd rather see someone now or when we return to Seattle. Andrea," he continues, taking me by surprise, "you'll have to present your application."

Hold up. "What?"

"You'll present the ASL app tomorrow."

Shit. No. No, no, no. I'm not ready. The app isn't ready. I can't do it. I can't prepare a presentation for three hundred people overnight. I can't even speak in front of that many people.

"Lex, no. Please," I beg.

"We don't have a choice," he insists. "Canceling now would be unprofessional and poorly received. That's not even considering the missed opportunity. I'll help you get ready this afternoon. We can't miss that chance, Andrea." I can see he's sorry for the turn of events, but it's clear we're cornered and have no other choice.

Shit, I don't want to do the presentation, but I also don't want to let him down. I can't tell if it's because he is my boss or because of the intimacy we share, but I don't want to disappoint him.

Slowly, I nod, my eyes fixed on his.

B ecause of the change of plans, I have to meet with Lex later this afternoon so he can help me prepare for the presentation. I'm not looking forward to it, but it's not like I have a choice. The positive thing about him being a jerk is that I won't be tempted by him. If he remains insufferable, I'm certainly not going to let him touch me.

He has his glasses on when he opens the door, and his hair looks like he's passed his hand through it over and over. Given his frown, I can tell he's preoccupied. Although it isn't a particularly sexy mood, I always like him better when he seems less perfect. He's wearing a simple gray T-shirt with jeans, and his sneakers are immaculately white.

"Come in," he invites, moving to the side.

My face flushes as I look around, memories of our first night in San José flooding me. My eyes slide to the half-opened bedroom door, where I can see the bed we fucked on for hours. Well, there goes my determination not to be tempted.

He points at his laptop on the coffee table. "I already started a list of everything we need for tomorrow."

This is pathetic. I can't even be in the s ame room as him without getting the naughtiest thoughts while he's effortlessly keeping it to business. I sit beside him on the couch, ensuring our legs don't touch.

"We'll need visuals for the two screens over the stage. Videos, screenshots, diagrams, numbers… That sort of thing. We'll also set up a live feed of the phones while they are being used so people can see the app in action. Right now, I'll work on those, with the help of the design team back home, while you prepare what you want to say," he explains very professionally.

He smells so good, and his large body radiates warmth. My nipples harden under the thin layer of my bra, and I hate myself for how my core rouses. I'm so fucking whipped.

"Andrea," he starts, with his low, masculine, and ever-so-sexy voice. Worried my naughty thoughts are showing, I stare at the screen. "We need to talk about what we're doing," he says gravely.

"You mean the presentation or the… other thing?"

"The other thing."

"Okay."

"I know now isn't the time, but it'll be in my head all afternoon, and I won't be able to focus." He passes a hand in his hair with a sigh, uneasy. "I'm not sharing you," he bluntly says.

I gape at him, baffled. What? Is he asking for exclusivity? What happened to his whole liberal and carefree attitude about sex?

"What do you mean exactly?"

"I mean, you can't see other people while we're fucking." Well, whoever said romance is dead was absolutely right.

I remain silent for a while, digesting the information. It's not even that I want to sleep with other men, but rather principles. This isn't what we agreed on. There is no such thing as exclusive casual sex. Also, I goddamn hope he means it both ways.

"Okay, first of all, what happened to ‘I don't do relationships, Andrea?'" I ask, poorly imitating his low pitch.

"I'm not asking for the whole dating thing." He sounds almost appalled. "I just won't tolerate you seeing other men."

"Is it out of selfishness, entitlement, pragmatism, or jealousy?"

"We work together, and I don't want this to become a bloodbath." His answer disappoints me. I hoped it would shed some light on his attitude lately. "Speaking of which, HR will have my head if we don't sign a consensual relationship agreement."

Oh, hell no. I don't want anyone to know about my affair with my boss. "Lex, this sounds like a lot."

"I know, believe me. But I can't take risks. It's my safety net if things end poorly and you decide to retaliate." Outraged and insulted, I open my mouth to protest. "I'm not accusing you o f anything. But Kelex is still young, and a sexual harassment lawsuit would hurt its image. No one needs to hear about us outside of Karen in HR. I'll make sure the information isn't disclosed."

"Do you plan on ending things poorly with me?" I ask, unsure what answer I'm hoping for. That he doesn't intend to end things at all.

"I don't. But I can't know how things will evolve down the line." He's right, of course.

"I'll think about it. And for the no-sleeping-around thing, does it go both ways? Like, I can't, but you can't either?"

"I wouldn't ask something of you that I can't handle myself."

"So, you won't?" I insist, despising the faint hope I can hear in my voice.

"I won't."

Trying to hide my satisfaction, I nod. It may be stupid and sentimental, but knowing he is all mine for now is incredible.

But that's the problem, isn't it? He isn't mine, and I'm not his. We're just fucking each other. Exclusively. And we'll make it official with a legal contract.

That's … something.

"So, just so we're clear… We'll keep fooling around, we won't see other people, we will make it official with HR, but we aren't actually together?" I summarize.

Just then, he sees it. What he's asking for isn't casual anymore. It's the beginning of something.

"Fuck, this is a mess," he mutters, removing his glasses to pass a frustrated hand over his face. "I told you I don't do relationships because I'm terrible at it. I'm a workaholic, don't have a romantic bone in my body, and never cared for someone long enough to commit to anything serious."

I'm not expecting a relationship out of this, but knowing I'll soon be back to Idris and loneliness hurts a little. He notices my pout and raises his hand to rest it on my jaw. His warm eyes travel down the length of my face, and I melt into a puddle when his thumb gently grazes my lower lip.

"I'm not used to the things you trigger in me. I've never been the jealous type, but when I see you with Oliver and how easy things are between the two of you, it makes me irrationally mad."

My heart beats so hard in my chest that I worry it might break a rib. Shit, he can't say things like this. It's easier if I can't sleep around because we work together and not because he's jealous. He can't expect me not to get overly attached when he says that while looking at me with those incredible gray irises so full of… something.

At this precise moment, I know he'll break my heart one day. It's clear now more than ever. I'll fall head over heels for him, and the ending will be excruciatingly painful. Maybe we should put an end to it right now. It's the smart thing to do. He's my boss, so I'm not only risking my heart but also my career.

"No matter how much I get, it's never enough. I constantly crave you, Andrea," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper.

His vulnerability gets the best of me, and I plunge in for a kiss. In seconds, we're heatedly making out, and I'm straddling him on the couch while he leans on the backrest. I devour him with all the passion I hold, enjoying his taste, the touch of his hands on my lower back, the warm wetness of his tongue…

"Fuck… I really meant for us to work," he groans, his forehead pressed against mine, not stopping me from unzipping his pants.

"We'll work after." My slim hand lowers into his underwear and rips an animalistic growl out of him when my fingers wrap around his thick girth. I massage him up and down, my mouth hovering over his, the tips of our noses grazing.

"You drive me fucking insane," he says with breathtaking intensity. "I constantly think I can't possibly want you more, and I'm always proven wrong."

I tear myself away from him to stand and watch as Lex pushes his jeans down, freeing his magnificent hard-on.

"Shirt off," I command. With a crooked smile, he obeys. Then, he sits there, holding his dick and stroking it leisurely. Shit, it's so hot. One of these days, I'll have to ask him to get himself off like this. But not today.

Deciding that now is time for me to finally taste him, I lick my lips.

His pupils eat away their surrounding grayness when I kneel between his parted knees. The connection of our eyes breaks when I gaze down to admire his cock. It looks even thicker and longer from here. The head is appealingly sitting on top, its shape the most tempting of plums. I trace the prominent veins with the tip of my finger, finishing my exploration with the big one under his length, following it all the way to the crease at his tip. God, I adore his dick.

It needs to be molded and mass-manufactured into dildos.

"Are you torturing me on purpose?" he asks in a raspy voice.

"I'm trying to decide if it's safe to take you in my mouth." Choking to death on him wouldn't be the worst way to go, but I'd rather avoid it.

"I got tested after our first time together, and the results came back negative for everything," he says, misunderstanding me. "Since we won't sleep around, I thought we might discard the use of condoms."

A shiver runs down my stom ach as I remember how he wanted to take me raw back in his kitchen. "Why do you so badly want to have me without protection?"

It's a big step, clean or not. Despite my IUD, there are pregnancy risks I don't want to take.

"I never tried before, and it's been in my mind ever since that moment in my car when you wanted me to fuck you raw," he casually explains.

"So, you want me to be the first woman you've had without a condom?"

He nods, his eyes caressing my confused features.

Somehow, that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. I can't do this.

His meaning of casual sex won't work for me. It's too easy to get attached and get my hopes up. With trembling legs, I push myself up. The moment is gone.

" W hat's happening? What did I say?" I ask as Andrea gets up, completely blindsided.

"You need to take a moment to think long and hard about what you want from me," she explains. "When we started, you told me we'd just fuck around, nothing more. Then you ask for exclusivity, a signed document, this… It means something, whether you admit it or not."

I pull up my pants, not bothering to fasten them, but say nothing. When she continues, her voice trembles slightly. "I'm going to get hurt—we knew it from the start. But you aren't making any effort to protect me. You're charming when you're not being a jerk, incredible at sex, humorous, caring… And now you tell me I make you jealous for the first time in your life, that you can't get enough of me, and you ask of me things that are meaningful and important. How am I supposed to not get attached when you're like this?"

"Would you rather I treat you like shit?" I ask, irritated.

"No, I'd rather you treat me like your booty call and not like I'm your—" She stops and pinches her lips.

"Like my what, Andrea?"

She frowns, displeased, and then says, "Nothing. Forget I even said anything."

"How am I supp osed to treat you like my ‘booty call' when I see you five days a week? It doesn't work like that."

"Then how does it work?"

I rake a nervous hand through my hair, my mind wrenched with confusion and frustration. Ending what we have seems impossible despite knowing I should.

"I don't fucking know! I can't bring myself to end it. I don't know where it's going. I don't know where I want it to go… I can't fucking think straight when you're around."

I take a moment to breathe in an attempt to think this through. I need the rational side of my brain to take over. "It hasn't even been two weeks yet," I continue. "I think we should wait more before trying to label it. We'll have a better vision of things a month in."

"So, we keep it light and breezy for another two weeks, and then we see where we're at?"

I let out a low chuckle, some of the tension vanishing. "I don't think we've ever been ‘light and breezy,' but we can try."

"You can't keep saying those meaningful things to me, then."

"I won't. Feel free to whack me if I do."

She's the one to laugh softly this time.

We look at each other for several moments and something meaningful passes between us. She's the one who puts an end to it when she offers, "We should use this time to start working on the presentation."

I release a hoarse groan, fastening my pants. "I don't think anyone has ever left me with blue balls as often as you have, Andrea."

"They match my blue ovaries."

I laugh at her bad joke, and we quickly return to work. Since we're used to being in tandem like this, we accomplish a lot of work in the little time we have. I handle some back-and-forths with Seattle, and she prepares her pitch, showing it to me as she goes.

"Who did you have in mind for the live demo?" I ask at some point.

"Well, you."

I tense, the mere idea of it making my skin crawl. "I don't do public speeches."

"Really? Are you secretly shy?"

"Something like that."

For some reason, that earns me a smile. "It doesn't leave that many options. It's either Mason or Oliver with me on stage." My jaw clenches before I can stop it, and she notices, her lips pinched in a displeased line. "I'll go with Mason."

"Pick whoever you prefer."

"I'm fine with Mace. He's charismatic, and we get along well."

"I don't expect you to cut ties with peo ple because of how I feel. Go with Oliver if you want to."

Again, she offers me a soft smile. "I'm happy to do it with Mace."

We order food when the evening comes and take a much-deserved break… At some point, when I'm unfamiliar with some pop star she mentions, she forces me to listen to a few of her most famous songs. It rings vaguely familiar, so I suppose I've heard them in the past. At some point in the evening, I meticulously paint the nails on her right hand after she did the left one, and she uses that time to review the visuals Seattle sent us back.

"Alright, I'm done," she sighs as she leans back. We're nearing midnight, and she looks just as exhausted as I am. "All work and no play makes Andy a dull girl. If you don't want to be chased with an axe, we better stop," she says with amusement.

Fuck. That also rings somewhat familiar, but I don't know what it's from. "Before you get all angry at me," I cautiously start, "I realize it's another pop culture reference. I just don't know which one."

"Lex, no! I didn't say anything earlier when you didn't know Britney Spears, but—"

"You said plenty," I cut her off.

"But I didn't scold you. How can you not know The Shining ?"

"I never saw it," I defend myself, shrugging my shoulders. Instead of insisting, she walks up to me and sits on my lap. I welcome her with warmth, circling her hips with my arms.

"Okay, I have a deal for you, Coleman," she gravely says. "If you'll have it, it would be my greatest honor to introduce you to the joys of classic movies."

I grin as I take in the details of her beautiful face. "I'd love that. But what's my half of the deal?"

"Well, you have very limited experience with movies, and mine is mediocre when it comes to sex. So I thought we could come up with an exchange of knowledge," she suggests, her mouth so close to mine I can almost taste her.

The mood shifts as I slowly caress her curves. Maybe I'm not as tired as I thought. We don't kiss, delaying the moment our lips will meet. We play with the idea, though, our mouths barely grazing each other's.

"Sounds like a lot of work. I don't know if I'll be up to the task," I tease.

"What about me? You haven't even seen The Shining ."

"You're definitely better at sex than I am at movies."

"That's hardly an accomplishment. I don't even know where to start your education."

"How about you show me your favorite movie first?"

"Nah, you wouldn't like it."

"I'm feeling quite open-minded at the moment," I argue, shifting so she can feel my erection against her thigh.

A naughty smile stretches her lips. "You can't be that indulgent. What if I told you it's Dirty Dancing ?"

"I have three older sisters, remember? I know it by heart."

"Really?"

To prove my point, I recite a whole section of the movie with the intonations and facial expressions. She gapes at me at first, but then it turns into a broad smile. For both our sakes, she shuts me up by plastering her lips over mine. I embrace the distraction until she pulls away, still grinning.

"I can't believe you actually know Dirty Dancing by heart."

"I think I've watched it thirty times. And as soon as I was strong enough, my sisters made me learn the dance with the lift and all."

She fails to contain her laughter.

"Are you making fun of me?" I wonder, a little offended.

"I swear I'm not. You're just… adorable."

"I don't think anyone has called me adorable in twenty-five years."

"It was about time I came along, th—"

A couple of knocks interrupt her. On reflex, she jumps away from my lap. "One day, we'll lock ourselves somewhere for a week where no one can interrupt us," I say in a way that's closer to a threat than a promise. "Who is it?" I bark, standing up.

"It's Hugh," the person at the door answers. Fuck, what's that asshole doing here?

"I swear I might just kill the man," I mutter.

Andrea swiftly gathers her things as I walk to the door to open it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company," Hugh says when he notices her, not seeming sorry at all.

"We were getting ready for our presentation tomorrow. What do you want?" I coldly ask.

Andrea is done packing her computer and shoving the rest of her belongings in the bag with it. She grabs her phone on the coffee table and joins us.

"Good night," she mumbles, eyes on the carpet as she passes us.

I wait for her to be far enough and then turn to the unwelcome intruder. "The fuck do you want, Hugh?" I ask, not even bothering to contain my irritation.

His attention is still on Andrea, walking away at a fast pace. When he looks at me again, there's something cunning in his eyes. "Working late, were you?"

"That's none of your business. What do you want?"

"Well, I thought we could catch up. It's been a while."

"I have nothing to say to you, Hugh. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long day tomorrow."

Eager to be done with this, I go to close the door. He stops me with a firm hand on the panel.

"I looked into that new recruit of yours. She doesn't sound like the coding genius you implied. Her last job was shit. But then again, you've always been great at finding rare gems… Maybe I should make her an offer and get her to work with us so I can judge for myself."

Again, the irrational anger that only seems to come out when Andrea is concerned warms up in my chest. My hand reacts before my mind can stop it, and I fist the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer to me. Fear flashes in his eyes despite trying to keep his composure.

"You stay the fuck away from her, you pathetic weasel."

"Alexander, there's no need for—"

"Oh, there's need. You will stay away from Andrea, or I'll do what I should have done all those years ago and break your fucking teeth," I threaten. He blinks, still frightened by my show of strength. "Nod if you understand," I command.

He complies with haste, so I release him. "Now, again, I have a long day tomorrow. So, if you don't mind…"

He doesn't need to be asked again as he turns around to return to whatever hole he crawled out of.

As soon as the door is shut, what I just did dawns on me. Fuck. I should have been more clever about this. As stupid as I believe Hugh to be, he isn't dumb enough to not figure out why I'm so possessive of Andrea. My fit of anger disclosed feelings that a boss shouldn't have for an employee.

I'm still not over the idiocy of my impulsive reaction twenty minutes later, lying in bed. My eyes wander to the emptiness at my side, and I can't help but wonder.

Would Andrea have ended up here with me if Hugh hadn't interrupted us? Brian and Steven are still in the room next door, but I could have fucked her gently so that the bed wouldn't bang on the walls. I would have swallowed her whimpers and moans with my mouth and then muffled them with my palm as she climaxed.

It seems I'm not the only one thinking of that because my phone lights up on the nightstand, and I see a text from her.

Andrea Walker

Do you want to meet in the room?

Me

No fruits or vegetables to illustrate?

Andrea Walker

Emojis are my drunk alter ego's signature. I have way more class.

Me

Looks like both of you want the same thing.

Andrea Walker

We sure do. So?

As tempting as it is to accept her offer, I know we'll lose ourselves in each other for much longer than we can afford. It's already past midnight, and I need her on top of her game for the presentation.

Me

I would, but you need to rest. Big day tomorrow.

Andrea Walker

But I want you now :(

Me

Consider it your reward for a job well done. I'll fuck your brains out all you want after the presentation.

Andrea Walker

But I can't sleep without a good night kiss.

This fucking greedy woman…

In less than two minutes, I'm in front of her door, knocking. She eagerly opens it and poses with a hand on her hip and her elbow on the door frame, looking triumphant. Her flannel shorts and mismatched T-shirt are nothing like the delicate nightwear I'm used to, but I still find myself craving to rip them off of her.

Without wasting a second, I dominantly give her the kiss she begged for. I practically fuck her mouth with mine, one of my hands slipping under the elastic of her shorts to grope and fondle her perfect ass. She moans and clings to me with an arm thrown around my neck.

Before it can derail, I rip myself from her and step back. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips temptingly wet, and I want nothing more than to carry her to the bed behind her and fuck her.

Instead, I say, "Now, go to bed, Andrea."

Utterly shocked, she tries to negotiate. "Lex—"

"No, no more pleading. I gave you your goodnight kiss. Now you can sleep."

She looks almost scandalized to hear that I won't give in to her demands. "Good night. And enjoy the blue ovaries, Walker," I say before leaving, struggling to contain a smile.

It's about time she remembers who's the boss. Though, if I'm being honest, she could probably bring me to my knees without having to try hard.

I might be her boss, but she holds the reins in this thing between us.

And I'm not even mad about it .