18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Eric

“Nice to have you back,” Jeremy says to me as he walks into my office. “How’s the arm doing?”

I move it around like I need to check before I respond. “It’s good. Still have some minor pain as I move it, but nothing I can’t deal with.”

He takes a seat in the chair in front of my desk. “I heard the acquisition is moving along nicely.”

“Yeah, I managed to keep it afloat somehow while I was out.”

“Word around the office is that you slacked off a bit on your week at home,” he says as he scratches his chin.

I sit up straight in my chair, not sure I heard him correctly. “Excuse me? Who the fuck said that?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Just word around the office. Apparently, they said you should’ve been pulling twelve hour days at home to accelerate the process.”

I don’t know who is talking like that, but I’m not at all surprised. It’s a cutthroat business. Every man for himself. If there’s a way to make someone else look bad to get ahead, you take it. Only, I’ve never felt the need to play it that way.

“Whatever. Let them talk. They’re going to anyway,” I grit through clenched teeth.

“What did you do with your time off? Got some rest in hopefully. That text you showed me of the stitches was brutal. Almost passed out when I saw it.”

That makes me laugh. “You’re such a wuss.”

“Dude, that cut was fucking deep. You’re gonna have a nasty scar once it heals. Were you home alone when it happened? I probably would’ve fainted and bled out.”

“You’re quite the drama queen. No, I wasn’t alone. My sister’s friend was there. She drove me to the emergency room.”

“I guess there was a silver lining to her staying with you after all.” Voices outside my office break his attention. “I should get back to work before I’m tagged as the guy who talks and never works. Lunch today?”

“I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch. Apparently, I’m slacking.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ignore the comments. I shouldn’t have said anything. We’ll catch up soon.”

By Wednesday, I’m exhausted. I’ve spent all of my time at the office trying to get this acquisition ahead of schedule. I know I shouldn’t let someone else’s words get to me like this, but I can’t help it.

To make matters worse, I discovered there are going to be more layoffs than I had initially anticipated once we acquire the company. It’s not because I want to be a dick, but the company overstaffed in every department. No wonder they are struggling so much.

When I start to look at the amount of people I have to fire, I slam my laptop shut. This is the worst part of my job. I loathe it. I’ve been told to get over it, that it’s part of the job. Or that these people will just go out and find another job and it’s not that big of a deal, but they’re wrong.

Some of these people have worked at the company for more than fifteen years. They’ve accumulated a lot of raises in those years for their commitment to the company. Starting over somewhere else at their age could be the difference between being able to send their kids to college or retire on time.

Unfortunately, my coworkers don’t think about things like that. They’re only worried about making more money to maximize they’re bonuses at the end of the fiscal year. But once upon a time, my family was that broke family. I was the boy with the old hand me down clothing from my brother and not the one with the latest Nike’s.

I had always told myself I would never be in that position again. One where I struggled financially. But sometimes the thought crosses my mind that I was happier back then.

By the time I get home, the stress has mounted, and I need a drink. A strong one.

I open the door and there’s silence. Mia has been distant ever since I pushed her away Saturday night. She didn’t come to my bedroom last night, even though Layla was gone. I can’t stop thinking about her which makes me miserable. And I’m angry that I’m the reason I’m miserable. I got spooked that night from my feelings and made a rash decision.

Now I have to feel her in my home without being able to touch her or even talk to her.

I go straight to the bourbon and pour myself a glass, not even making it to my office. I fall onto the chair in my living room and work my tie open as I take a sip of the auburn liquid, hoping it relieves the tension that’s building.

“Long day?” Mia’s voice startles me from behind.

I crane my neck to see her leaning against the large white column. I shrug my shoulders, not sure how to answer or maybe unwilling to. Either way she takes the hint.

She laughs sarcastically. “Whatever. Just thought I’d ask.”

She begins to walk away, and I start to panic. “Yes, it was a long day.”

When I no longer hear her walking away, a soothing feeling takes over my body. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I start to talk. “I have an acquisition that I’m working on. Not only did I hear that people were criticizing my work ethic for not pulling twelve hour days while I was recovering, but I just found out that we’re going to have to lay a lot more people off in this company than I had originally anticipated.”

She appears in front of me, silent at first as she pulls out the ottoman and sits between my legs. “I can’t believe they think you need to work twelve-hour days in general, but to expect it out of you when you clearly were injured and took your sick days. That’s ridiculous.”

Rather than look at her, I keep my eyes focused on the glass in my hand resting on my thigh. “The other men in the office probably would’ve done it. It’s how you make the company money.”

“That’s bullshit. I run a successful company, and we treat our employees with respect. If you use your time off, you are entitled to actually take the time off. Life is too short to be married to your job.”

I don’t know what to say back to that. If she’s right, then what the hell am I doing at this company?

I shake my head. That’s ridiculous. I’m not leaving the company.

“How many more people do you have to lay off?” she asks, resting her elbows on her knees. Something I notice from the corner of my eye. I risk a glance at her and see concern in her eyes.

“About one hundred more people.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

I nod my head. “That’s a lot of families I could be destroying.”

“That must be a really tough part of the job. I’m sure most people feel this way when it comes to these layoffs.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Nobody else gives a fuck about the people they layoff. I’m looked down upon for caring. I’ve been told it’s what makes me weaker than my other colleagues.”

“That’s gross. I think it’s the other way around.”

That makes me look back up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Only a weak man with a big ego would be unaffected by ruining lives. Someone like you, someone who cares about those people, that’s a strong man.”

I don’t know what to say back to that. She thinks I’m strong. I care way more about that than I should. I’m not sure how long we look at each other, but it feels like she is looking into my soul. A loud sound coming from my stomach pulls us out of the moment.

She looks at her watch. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

I shake my head back and forth. “I didn’t really have time to. I skipped lunch as well.”

She sighs. “Eric, it’s eight thirty. Come on, I’ll warm something up.”

When we get into the kitchen, she pulls out a plate that looks like it was already ready for me and pops it into the microwave.

She stands in front of the microwave while the food she prepared for me, despite me being a complete dick, warms up.

My body moves to her like we’re magnets that are being pulled together. I stand right behind her, our bodies just barely touching then whisper in her ear. “Thank you for dinner.”

The goosebumps on her skin are evidence that, in spite of my pushing her away, her body still reacts to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t not touch her. I pull her hair off her neck and kiss her just above where her shoulder and neck meet.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Her body is still as I pepper her neck with another kiss. “For what?” she whispers.

“For pushing you away the other night.”

I rest one hand on her hip and the other on the counter.

“Why did you do it?” she asks softly.

I turn her around until she’s facing me, ignoring the beep of the microwave. I don’t care about food right now. I think my body has been starving for her.

“I got spooked. I realized when my sister was going to spend the weekend, that meant I couldn’t touch you or be with you all weekend. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like that I didn’t like it.”

She smiles. “You are one with words.”

“I never claimed to be a poet. I’m just trying to be honest.”

“I appreciate honesty, but what I don’t appreciate is being tossed around.”

I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll try my best. I just need you to know that I’m not looking for a relationship right now or ever really.”

She bites her bottom lip as she looks up at me. “I’m just trying to find out if my ex is trying to kill me or not, and my life is back in Cleveland. I don’t know what I’m looking for right now.”

“One thing I can promise you. I may not ever be boyfriend material, but I can make you feel good, and I can protect you.”

She sucks in a shaky breath. “I think I can handle that right now.”

“Good,” I spin her off of the counter and lift her on top of the island, “because I’ve decided what I need to eat right now isn’t sitting in the microwave.”

She throws her head back laughing. “Oh, no? Where is it?”

My hand moves between her thighs. “It’s right here, and I can tell it’s begging for me to taste it.”

In the light of day, I can see her blush. I groan and my head falls to her chest. “Do you have any idea what your blush does to me?”

I look up and she shakes her head back and forth shyly.

“It starts here,” I point to her cheek with my finger, “and it travels all the way down your neck.” My finger drags from her face down to her neck until it reaches the top of her breasts, “and it ends right here on your chest. It was one of the first things I noticed about you, and it has driven me crazy.”

I lean forward and gently kiss her lips, letting the kiss start slow and controlled. It doesn’t take long before I slide my tongue into her mouth. She meets me with her own hunger, her hands grabbing the back of my neck as she increases the tempo of the kiss.

I pull away and grab her shirt. She raises her arms, and I slowly pull it over her head, throwing it on the floor then seal my mouth back to hers.

“Lift your ass for me,” I say against her mouth.

She obeys my command. I rid her of her jeans and underwear then grab one of her legs and lift it up until her foot rests on the edge of the counter, opening herself up to me.

My thumb begins to rub circles around her clit. Her jaw falls slack as she watches. We both watch as I insert two fingers into her pussy, twisting my hand so my fingers can move along her g-spot.

There’s something so hot about going slow while both of our eyes are locked on my hand. When I pull my fingers out, they are coated in her arousal. I drag them up and down her pussy before pushing them in her again.

This time I lean down and suck on her clit as my fingers push up against her walls.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales.

I moan into her pussy, letting her know how much tasting her turns me on. I lick her up and down as I suck on her clit, and then flick my tongue until she is grabbing my hair and screaming through her orgasm.

When I pull away and stand up straight, her eyes are hooded, and her chest is rising and falling.

I grab her leg and pull her towards me until her body is against mine and cover her mouth hungrily. I want her to taste herself on me. She reaches down and grabs my shirt and helps me get it off. Her eyes drink me in, dragging up and down my chest and abs.

“Do you like what you see?” I ask, loving the attention she’s giving me.

She bites her lip and smiles. “I don’t understand how you look like that. I haven’t seen you work out once since I’ve been here.”

“Not sure if you remember, but I sliced my arm open. Working out hasn’t been possible.”

“Oh, right,” she laughs.

My dick is uncomfortably hard. Never have I felt like I would die if I didn’t have someone, but it’s starting to feel like that. I rub my hand against myself through my pants, hoping for some relief. She presses her lips against mine. Our tongues tangle together while her hand reaches down and grabs my dick. I groan as I push my hips forward into her hands. I need more.

Luckily, she starts to unbuckle my belt and I’m kicking off my pants and boxers within seconds.

“Spread those legs again for me, baby,” I tell her as I push both feet to the counter this time. “I need to take you right here, right now before I lose it.”

I grab the wallet out of my pants and take the condom I stash in there out. As soon as I’m covered, I stand between her legs.

She’s leaning back on her hands, her slick pussy proudly on display. My heart beats erratically in my chest as I swallow slowly.

I line my dick up and slowly push inside of her. My eyes struggle to stay open, but I don’t want to tear them away from where we are connected. When I bottom out, I steal a glance at her. Her face takes my breath away.

My hands grip each of her knees and push her legs up to her chest as I pull out then push back in a bit faster this time. I build up a rhythm until I have a good pace, slowly pulling out and then slamming back in.

I can feel her walls start to squeeze my dick, and I know we’re both close.

“That’s it. I feel that pussy ready to explode. You gonna come all over my dick, Mia?” I ask as I pick up the pace.

“Ahhh,” she yells, “yes, I’m coming!”

I push her knees out and fuck her hard, her hands on the counter behind her needing to catch the force of my thrusts. “Fuck, that’s right. I feel it. I’m right there with you.”

I let myself go inside of her all the while feeling her own orgasm come down. I keep moving inside of her until her pussy stops convulsing completely then I drop her knees and fall forward, my head leaning on her shoulder as I try to catch my breath.

We don’t move for a minute as we both work to even out our breathing.

“I think we need to reheat your food again,” she finally says.

I laugh then pick my head off of her shoulder. “Now I’m officially starved. I didn’t eat lunch or dinner.”

Her eyes open wide while she shakes her head. I can tell she wants to say something, but just pushes herself off of the counter and goes straight for the microwave.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up. You better be eating when I come back down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a smirk as I take her in, scolding me while naked.

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her own smile before she turns around and walks upstairs. I throw on my boxers and pull the plate out of the microwave. It’s a big plate of lasagna with some steamed vegetables on the side.

I decide to sit at the island and eat, not bothering to put on more clothes.

The bourbon bottle is sitting on the edge of the counter, reminding me how badly I felt that I needed it when I got home. Now I can’t even remember feeling stressed. I just feel—satisfied. Relaxed.

I normally have to work out or go to my barn to get this kind of feeling after work. Fear grips me again at the thought of being this affected by someone.

But then she comes downstairs with a big smile on her face, and I realize there’s no way I can push her away again.