Book 1 - Page 25 (1/2)

Thursday she had on a perfectly ordinary V-neck blouse, but twice when she bent over to pick up my pen I got a good look down her s.h.i.+rt. Only one of those times was on purpose.

By Friday I thought I would explode. I hadn’t jacked off once all week and was walking around with the worst case of blue b.a.l.l.s known to man.

As I walked into the office Friday morning, I was praying that maybe she would call in sick. Somehow I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky. I was h.o.r.n.y and in a particularly bad mood, and when I opened the office door I almost had a heart attack. She was bent over watering a plant in a charcoal gray sweater dress and knee-high boots. Every curve of her body was on display. Someone up there really hated me.

“Good morning, Mr. Ryan,” she said sweetly, stopping me as I pa.s.sed her. Something was up. She never said anything sweetly to me. I eyed her suspiciously.

“Good morning, Miss Mills. You seem to be in an exceptionally cordial mood today. Did somebody die?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a devilish smirk. “Oh, no. I’m just excited about dinner tomorrow, and meeting your friend Joel. Henry’s told me all about him. I think we really might have a lot in common.”

Son of a b.i.t.c.h. “Oh right. Dinner. I’d completely forgotten. Yes, you and Joel . . . Well, since he’s a mama’s boy and you’re an overbearing shrew, you two should find a pretty solid love connection. I’d love a cup of coffee if you’re getting one for yourself.” I turned and headed into my office.

It occurred to me that it might not be in my best interest to let her make my coffee. One of these days she was likely to put something in it. Like a.r.s.enic.

Before I’d even sat down, she knocked at my door.

“Come in.”

She set my coffee down hard enough that some of it spilled on what she knew d.a.m.n well was a custom-built fifteen-thousand-dollar desk, and turned to look at me.

“Are we having the scheduling meeting this morning?” She was standing near my desk in a pool of sunlight. Shadows draped across her dress, accentuating the curve of her br**sts. f.u.c.k, I wanted to pull her tight nipple into my mouth. Was it cold in here? How could she be cold when I was sweating bullets?

I had to get the h.e.l.l out of here.

“No. I forgot about a meeting downtown this afternoon. So I’ll be leaving for the day in about ten minutes. Just e-mail me all the details,” I replied quickly, heading for the safety and coverage of my desk chair.

“I wasn’t aware of any off-site meeting today,” she said skeptically.

“No, you wouldn’t have been,” I said. “It’s personal.”

When she didn’t respond I chanced a glance up and saw a strange expression on her face. What was that look? She obviously looked mad, but there was something else. Was she . . . was she jealous?

“Oh,” she answered, chewing on her lower lip. “Is it with someone I know?” She never asked questions about where I was going. “I mean, just in case your father or brother need to get ahold of you.”

“Well . . .” I paused, trying to torture her a bit. “In this day and age, if someone needs to get ahold of me, they can call my cell phone. Is there anything else, Miss Mills?”