Beautiful Bastard
Page 6
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With each step the ache between my legs reminded me of the events of the last hour. As I reached my car I unlocked it with the remote, pulled open the door, and collapsed into the safety of the leather seats. I looked up at myself in the rearview mirror.
What in the f**k was that?
Two
Christ. I am so f**king screwed.
I’d been staring at my ceiling since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Brain: a mess. Dick: hard.
Well, hard again.
I scowled at the ceiling. It didn’t matter how many times I’d jerked off after she left me last night, it never seemed to go away. And though I didn’t think it was possible, it was worse than the hundreds of other times I’d woken up this way. Because this time, I knew what I was missing. And she hadn’t even let me come.
Nine months. Nine f**king months of morning wood, jacking off, and endless fantasies about someone I didn’t even want. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted her. I wanted her more than any woman I’d ever seen. The big problem was I also hated her.
And she hated me too. I mean, she really hated me. In all my thirty-one years, I had never met someone who pushed my buttons like Miss Mills.
Just her name made my dick twitch. Fucking traitor. I stared down at where I tented my sheets. This stupid appendage got me into this mess to begin with. I rubbed my hands across my face and sat up.
Why couldn’t I just keep it in my pants? I’d managed for almost a year. And it had worked. I kept my distance, bossed her around, hell, even I’ll admit I’d been a bastard. And then I just lost it. All it took was one moment, sitting in that quiet room, her smell all around me and that f**king skirt, her ass in my face. I snapped.
I was sure that if I just had her once, it would be disappointing and the wanting would be over. I’d finally have some peace. But here I was, in my bed, hard, as if I hadn’t come in weeks. I looked at the clock, and it had only been four hours.
I took a quick shower, scrubbing myself roughly as if to remove any trace of her left from last night. This was going to stop, this had to stop. Bennett Ryan didn’t act like some horny teenager, and I certainly did not f**k around in my office. The last thing I needed was a clingy woman ruining everything. I couldn’t allow Miss Mills to have this control over me.
Everything was so much better before I knew what I was missing. For as awful as that was, this was million times worse.
I was making my way into my office when she walked in. The way she left last night, practically sprinting out the door, I figured one of two scenarios awaited me. Either she would be making eyes at me, thinking that last night meant something, that we meant something. Or she’d have my ass.
If word got out about what we’d done, not only could I lose my job, but I could lose everything I’d worked for. And yet, as much as I hated her, I couldn’t see her doing something like that. If there was one thing I’d learned about her, it was that she was trustworthy and loyal. She might be a hateful shrew, but I didn’t think she would throw me to the lions. She had worked for Ryan Media Group since college and was a valued part of the company for a reason. Now she was only months from obtaining her MBA and would have her pick of jobs when she was ready. No way would she jeopardize that.
But I’ll be damned if she didn’t completely ignore me. She walked in wearing a knee-length trench coat. It shielded whatever was beneath, but did a fantastic job showing off those amazing legs.
Oh shit . . . if she was wearing those shoes, there was a good chance . . . No, not that dress. Please, for the love of God, not that dress. I knew for a fact there was no way I had the willpower for that shit today.
I glared at her as she hung her jacket in her closet and sat down at her desk.
Well, f**k me running, that woman really was the biggest tease in the entire world.
It was the white dress. With a neckline that dipped down to accentuate the soft smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, and white fabric clinging perfectly to those gorgeous tits, the dress was the bane of my existence, my heaven and hell wrapped in one delicious package.
The hem fell just below her knees and it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t provocative in any way, but there was something about the cut and that goddamn virginal white that had me hard practically all day. And she always left her hair down when she wore it. One of my recurring fantasies was of taking all of the damned pins out of her hair before I grabbed a handful and f**ked her.
God, she pissed me off.
When she still didn’t acknowledge me, I turned and stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me. Why was she still affecting me this way? I’d never had anyone or anything distract me from work, and I hated her for being the first.
What in the f**k was that?
Two
Christ. I am so f**king screwed.
I’d been staring at my ceiling since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Brain: a mess. Dick: hard.
Well, hard again.
I scowled at the ceiling. It didn’t matter how many times I’d jerked off after she left me last night, it never seemed to go away. And though I didn’t think it was possible, it was worse than the hundreds of other times I’d woken up this way. Because this time, I knew what I was missing. And she hadn’t even let me come.
Nine months. Nine f**king months of morning wood, jacking off, and endless fantasies about someone I didn’t even want. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted her. I wanted her more than any woman I’d ever seen. The big problem was I also hated her.
And she hated me too. I mean, she really hated me. In all my thirty-one years, I had never met someone who pushed my buttons like Miss Mills.
Just her name made my dick twitch. Fucking traitor. I stared down at where I tented my sheets. This stupid appendage got me into this mess to begin with. I rubbed my hands across my face and sat up.
Why couldn’t I just keep it in my pants? I’d managed for almost a year. And it had worked. I kept my distance, bossed her around, hell, even I’ll admit I’d been a bastard. And then I just lost it. All it took was one moment, sitting in that quiet room, her smell all around me and that f**king skirt, her ass in my face. I snapped.
I was sure that if I just had her once, it would be disappointing and the wanting would be over. I’d finally have some peace. But here I was, in my bed, hard, as if I hadn’t come in weeks. I looked at the clock, and it had only been four hours.
I took a quick shower, scrubbing myself roughly as if to remove any trace of her left from last night. This was going to stop, this had to stop. Bennett Ryan didn’t act like some horny teenager, and I certainly did not f**k around in my office. The last thing I needed was a clingy woman ruining everything. I couldn’t allow Miss Mills to have this control over me.
Everything was so much better before I knew what I was missing. For as awful as that was, this was million times worse.
I was making my way into my office when she walked in. The way she left last night, practically sprinting out the door, I figured one of two scenarios awaited me. Either she would be making eyes at me, thinking that last night meant something, that we meant something. Or she’d have my ass.
If word got out about what we’d done, not only could I lose my job, but I could lose everything I’d worked for. And yet, as much as I hated her, I couldn’t see her doing something like that. If there was one thing I’d learned about her, it was that she was trustworthy and loyal. She might be a hateful shrew, but I didn’t think she would throw me to the lions. She had worked for Ryan Media Group since college and was a valued part of the company for a reason. Now she was only months from obtaining her MBA and would have her pick of jobs when she was ready. No way would she jeopardize that.
But I’ll be damned if she didn’t completely ignore me. She walked in wearing a knee-length trench coat. It shielded whatever was beneath, but did a fantastic job showing off those amazing legs.
Oh shit . . . if she was wearing those shoes, there was a good chance . . . No, not that dress. Please, for the love of God, not that dress. I knew for a fact there was no way I had the willpower for that shit today.
I glared at her as she hung her jacket in her closet and sat down at her desk.
Well, f**k me running, that woman really was the biggest tease in the entire world.
It was the white dress. With a neckline that dipped down to accentuate the soft smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, and white fabric clinging perfectly to those gorgeous tits, the dress was the bane of my existence, my heaven and hell wrapped in one delicious package.
The hem fell just below her knees and it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t provocative in any way, but there was something about the cut and that goddamn virginal white that had me hard practically all day. And she always left her hair down when she wore it. One of my recurring fantasies was of taking all of the damned pins out of her hair before I grabbed a handful and f**ked her.
God, she pissed me off.
When she still didn’t acknowledge me, I turned and stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me. Why was she still affecting me this way? I’d never had anyone or anything distract me from work, and I hated her for being the first.
