Page 34 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

Myles: I’ve been bad.

Shit. I knew it. I was in bed in only my underwear, about ready to sleep. Now I needed to get up, get dressed, and fix the problem.

Me: What happened? And can it be dealt with in the morning?

Myles: It can, but I’d rather we deal with this now.

Well, it must be serious since it couldn’t wait.

Me: Tell me what’s going on then.

Myles: I’ve been dreaming about you for as long as I’ve been working for you. Fantasies of pleasuring you in your office. Would you let me? Please you, that is?

I read his text about five times, trying to figure out if this was a fucking joke, if he was serious, or if someone was impersonating Myles. He had always been the utmost professional as long as he’d been working for me, keeping my schedule perfectly, my emails clean, setting up meetings, making sure all the paperwork was signed, or anything else I needed him for. He made my life a hundred times simpler and more organized.

No, this had to be someone messing with me.

Me: This isn’t funny. Who is this?

The little dots at the bottom of the message kept showing and disappearing as my agitation grew. I didn’t like being messed with like this. Usually, I would’ve blocked the number, but my gut told me this was definitely Myles because it was his direct number, unless one of his friends was teasing him.

The text also sent my mind to a place where it didn’t belong, traveling toward pale hazel eyes, cropped blond hair, and a perpetual smile. I had always found Myles attractive, but he was hands-off. I would never breach the trust of my PA with inappropriate behavior.

Instead of a text, I received a picture of Myles with a sheepish smile on his handsome face, giving me a peace sign with his fingers.

Hell, it was him. Before I could react or say anything, another text came in.

Myles: I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t a joke. I’m dead serious. I want to be bad for you… and good. Let me.

Jesus.

I forked my fingers through my hair as I reread his message. What had gotten into him? And why now? Regardless, he worked for me. I couldn’t let him continue with this. Then, on Monday, we would need to talk seriously about his behavior. He was probably drinking with friends. No doubt he would regret this come Monday.

Me: Myles, we work together. This is highly inappropriate.

God, but I wanted it to be, though. My mind now ran rampant with all the things I wanted to do to him. To punish his bubble butt with my hands, to ravish him, or force him to choke on my cock. I swelled at the thought, cupping my dick to calm it the hell down.

No! I couldn’t think those things about Myles.

Get yourself under control.

Myles: I’m done being perfectly appropriate. Meet me at Zeus's in 30 min. We can talk more. Please. I’ll make it worth your while.

Zeus’s was the newest gay bar in downtown Seattle. I’d been there once, meeting a man from a dating app that didn’t result in anything happening. Nothing had been happening for too damn long, leaving me needy and lonely. Meeting up with strange men for blow jobs got old fast.

Still, this wasn’t a good idea, no matter how attracted I was to Myles. Regardless, I glanced at the clock, which read eighteen minutes after eleven.

Myles: Please.

Me: I’ll be there.

Fuck. I should’ve told him no. Instead, I closed my phone and laptop and climbed out of bed. After opening the bottom drawer of my dresser, I pulled out a T-shirt and tossed it on. Then, I went into my closet, grabbed a V-neck sweater in navy blue, and pulled it over my head. Lastly, I pulled on a pair of jeans.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Get undressed, climb into bed again, and text Myles back that you will not go and that we need to have a talk at work on Monday morning.

But I didn’t do the reasonable thing. I grabbed my keys, locked up my house, got into my silver Mercedes, and drove the twenty minutes it took to get to the bar.

After struggling to find parking, I was ten minutes late. Would Myles still be waiting? Part of me hoped not. The other part of me ached to know if what he had said was real. My heart thundered at the thought. Fuck, this was so wrong.

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