Page 38 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

“Goodnight, Mr. Harrington.”

And then he was gone.

Monday morning rolled around way too fast. It was five in the morning as I tightened my pink and navy-blue striped tie before slipping on my navy suit jacket.

I struggled to look into the mirror because my humiliation was very real and sat front and center on my face in big, red blotches.

Sunday morning had been the worst. Not only was I hungover, but all the shit that went down the night before was at the top of my list of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

I texted Jules yesterday, cursing her out because I was a coward and couldn’t do it over the phone. But she needed to know what she’d put me through. She had been completely unfazed, explaining to me that I needed that push to finally get what I wanted. I’d been pining after my boss for far too long.

Yes, I wanted him, but even with me resigning soon, which he didn’t know yet, he was still out of my league. The little bookshop I was setting up near Pike Place Market was nothing compared to the multi-million dollar corporation Mr. Harrington owned and ran. I was nothing beneath his leather Tom Ford’s shoes.

In an hour, I would have to face the object of my desire and now the peak of my humiliation. I was going to have to grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness over my behavior. Especially if I needed good references in the future. There was no guarantee my business would succeed.

With a deep breath, I sucked in the inevitable destruction of my pride and ego. I kissed those goodbye at the door when I stepped out of my apartment and drove to work.

No sooner had I set my bag and keys at my desk did Mr. Harrington text me.

Mr. Harrington: Grab us both some coffee and meet me in my office.

I hate my life.

Chapter 4

Kane

Ifired up my laptop as Myles grabbed us coffee, trying to distract myself from my PA. I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I’d jacked off to fantasies about my assistant’s body yesterday. Fine. It was four times. Four.

Saturday night, I had tried to get him into bed, and he just stood there holding his clothes, wearing only these royal-blue boxer briefs that fit him like a second skin. Who knew Myles had such a goddamn tight body? He was lean, but you could see the cut in his abs. When he turned around to climb into bed, I didn’t miss his bubble butt I wanted to take over my knee and spank.

I rubbed my face and groaned. Christ. In the three years he’d worked for me, not once did I actually entertain the idea of doing naughty things with him. I’d only fantasized about it, not actually willing to do it.

The knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts right in time before my body reacted to them.

“Come in.”

Myles opened the door, carrying two cups of coffee. He looked stunning in his navy suit and crisp white shirt, balanced out with the pop of pink in his striped tie. His cropped blond hair was groomed away from his face. But it was his pale skin that stood out the most, which was covered in red blotches on his face. It had to be his embarrassment from the other night.

I itched to punish him for it. To make him pull down his pants and underwear, lean over my desk so I could spank him properly before fucking his hole.

God, I was in trouble with this one. He’d pulled it out of me with his naughty texts. I couldn’t unsee them. In fact, the last time I stroked myself yesterday was to his text I’d saved. Not even being eleven years older than him turned me off. Typically, I dated men around my age at thirty-nine. Not men who weren’t even thirty yet.

Myles set the coffee cups down on my desk, but before he sat down, I pointed at my door.

“Close it and lock it, please, Mr. McCoy.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered as he did as he was told, making my cock jump. That was definitely something new. He’d never called me ‘sir’ before, and I fucking savored it.

Myles came back and sat down, looking contrite and keeping his pale hazel eyes downcast. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harrington. It was completely out of character for me and unprofessional.”

“Why did you do it, then? Surely, you’ve had drinks before, yet you’ve never texted me in the heat of the moment.”

He glanced up but kept his head down. “Yeah, that was my ex-best friend’s idea. Well, she’s still my best friend. Anyway, we were playing truth or dare, and she dared me to do it.”

I couldn’t begin to explain the disappointment. So, it had been a game all along. My heart beat fast, and my face heated in irritation. I didn’t like being fucking played with, but I did my best to keep my voice calm. “Why did she dare you with this particular one? Did she want you to get fired? And your texts were just a game, then. Nothing else.”

Myles reached for his coffee with a trembling hand. He brought the mug to his lips and had to use his other hand to keep the cup steady as he took a tentative sip. When he put his cup back down, he gnawed on his plump bottom lip that I wanted to gnaw on myself.

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