Page 30 of Over My Dead Boss
A tired smile stretches over my face. “Is that why? Or is it because people have always been taking advantage of you? Bleeding you dry whenever they had the chance? Like they did with the company, with CY Publishing. Nana told me and I don’t want to be one of those people. I appreciate the offer but you can stick it up your butt, rich boy, ok?”
Phoenix laughs and lets a hand flow through his wavy hair. Too tall, too dark, features too defined, although today he seems a little less dark.
“Besides, my dad would never accept it in the first place. He raised me to be self-sufficient, remember? He’s like that too. He can’t work anymore, but whenever he has the energy, he still writes articles for the local paper to help out a little. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me,” I say. “I told you, we all have our cross to bear, and I am good at it. I work out at least twice a year so… I don’t need anyone, never have.”
His azure eyes inspect me calmly, as if the sea is taking a break from all the cyclones and typhoons brewing in them. We stare at each other for longer than is good for either one of us and when my bodily cravings of being held by him, being touched by those rough hands of his, reach their climax, I hastily get up, say good night and rush to my room.
This new side of his is unnerving, and I am not sure how I feel about it. I am not sure how I feel at all. Sure, I’ve had crushes and I’ve been intimate with other men before, but that felt nothing like this.Maybe I’m sick.Maybe this is just my body telling me to stop being an idiot and to focus back on what’s actually important. And that clearly isn’t his seductive smile, or his sultry lips, or—
None of that.
I grab my phone while pacing through my room.
Sienna: How’s our book coming along? I think I settled on the name: Myland. What do you think?
Olivia: That’s… actually a good one. There’s just one issue. I think you were right. I might be losing my mind.
Sienna: Oh, no. What’s going on, hun?
Olivia: I have a lot of… intrusive thoughts… about Mr. Cyrus.
I don’t even mention that he offered to pay off my parents’ debt because there’s absolutely no way I could ever accept it.
Sienna: Boink! Of course you do. How could you not? You’ve been in love with him for years.
Olivia: With his books. I’ve been in love with his books.
Sienna: Potayto, Potahto. Either way, this is your chance to live your own little romance. DO IT!
Olivia: There’s no romance. It’s just physical, ok?
Sienna: Well, I see two options here: 1. You need to go to horny jail. No more staring at his rugged face, his perfectly shaped butt, the big bulge in his slightly too tight pants.
Olivia: They’re not too tight. They fit like they were made for him. In fact, they probably were. He probably gets everything tailored.
Sienna: Yeah, so that obviously isn’t a viable option, which leaves us with option #2: Go to his room and hump his brains out. While you’re there, go see if he has yours stored somewhere in his nightstand. You need it so that you, too, can see what’s going on here.
I watch the screen as Sienna is typing away.
Olivia: Don’t.
Sienna: Namely, that you have a big ol’ crush on your boss and it ain’t gonna suck itself.
Sienna: No, wait. It ain’t gonna go away by ignoring it.
Olivia: Shit. Where do I find this horny jail?
Sienna: ¯\_(?)_/¯
Olivia: I’m gonna take a long, cold shower to cool off. Not my first in this house. Tell me, how are things going with you? How’s work, our cat?
After intentionally freezing my butt off for half an hour, I finally lay down in the heavenly comfort that is his guest bed and almost as if my conversation with Sienna didn’t happen, I allow my mind to wander and wonder if his actual bed is as comfortable, whether he would be as rough as his rugged exterior suggests, whether I should just listen to my friend and somewhat misguided libido. Eventually, whilst texting some more with Sienna, I drift off to sleep.
Dog’s loud barking makes me jump awake with a scream, and once again I try to calm myself down when I realize I had another nightmare. You’d think after years, I’d be a bit more seasoned with this sort of thing, but instead I am a shaking mess. Just when I think I am better again, the door flies open with a loud bang and a dark figure stands in the doorway, blocking almost all the moonlight that’s shining in from behind him. I recognize his stature immediately. Panting heavily, he steps closer and switches the light on. The bright rays sting my eyes, yet I can’t help but to pry them open ever so slightly to get a glimpse. A glimpse of Phoenix Cyrus standing in front of my bed with only a tight pair of briefs, his muscles flexed, ready to… Scratch his dog’s head.
“Hey,” he says in a soothing voice. “Is everything ok? I heard you barking, so I came as quickly as possible to see if everything is alright or whether you need anyone to perform any CPR.” His eyes drift over to me and I automatically pull the blanket a bit higher. His upper body is covered in tattoos and I try everything in my power to look away but can’t. Instead, I inspect them, muse if they’re just art for art’s sake or if they hold any meaning to him.
“Thank you, but we’re ok. Still breathing. I just had another nightmare. Dog always wakes me up when she notices. I guess this one was kinda bad.” Sweat is dripping down my forehead and my tank top is sticking to my chest and back.
