Page 52 of The Back Forty
Is that because she'll never see me as anything more than her boss?
Does she feel this attraction too?
Fuck, I’ve got to know.
She smells like rain and soap and something soft and sweet I haven’t figured out yet, but I know it’s her. It’s always her. She might have claimed it was my scent that grounded her during her panic attack, but the truth is that Dani's smell has always been the thing that's brought me to my knees.
“It was fine,” she says with a shrug. “You know, he really respects you. Thinks you’re a legend. I told him he’s got a lot to learn, but I think you’ll like the ideas he brings to the table.”
I grunt, knowing she’s right. If Dani hired him, he’s solid. She wouldn’t let a pretty face sway her. She’s too sharp for that.
“Can’t wait to hear them,” I say, but my voice comes out flat.
She tilts her head, studying me. The corner of her mouth quirks up. “Damn, boss. I’ve never seen you drunk before.”
I chuckle darkly. “Good. And you never will. I'm not drunk.”
“You sure about that?” she asks, teasing. But there’s something else in her voice too, something gentler like she’s trying to figure me out. "The glass in your hand is empty and I can smell the whiskey soaked on your breath."
I glance at her, and for a second, I almost say it.
That’s because I was waiting up for you.
I was thinking about what happened.
I was worried about you.
I was realizing that when I'm not with you, I fucking miss you, and I'm trying to make sense of how that will work.
But I don’t say any of that.
Instead, I just lean back, let the silence stretch between us, and try to keep myself from reaching out for her. Because right now? That’s all I want to do. And if I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop which means we'll cross a line that we've both always had in place.
She smiles. “You’re close though, aren’t you?”
She nudges my side, playful as ever, brown eyes warm and shining, her mouth tugging into a grin like she’s trying to lighten the mood. But I don’t feel light tonight.
Because while she’s sitting here acting like it’s just another night for us, just two coworkers unwinding after a long day, I’m battling every damn forbidden thought in my head. And every one of those thoughts starts and ends with her naked, underneath me, moaning my name.
She’s smiling like nothing’s wrong, like she doesn’t feel the tension that's pulsing between us. But I know Dani. I know her better than I know myself some days. She’s holding something back. She has been since Texas. Since that night. There's something we need to talk about, but I don't know how to bring up without pushing her away. Causing her to retreat into herself like she's so good at doing.
And maybe that’s because I know that I’m holding things back too.
Because that’s what you do when you’re playing the game—when you’re the boss and she’s the employee and there are lines drawn in sand we pretend are actually stone. You keep your secrets. You hide your wants. You pretend you’re not lying awake thinking about her hand wrapped around a vibrator while you’re a room away, fists clenched, jaw tight, imagining it’s you making her come.
“I’m nowhere near close to drunk,” I murmur, watching her carefully.
Her smile falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip and she nods, like she doesn’t know what to say next.
“I... I guess I should go to sleep,” she says, barely above a whisper.
“Is that what you want to do?” I ask, my voice rough. “Sleep?”
Because I’m dying to know if she’s going to head upstairs, slide that pretty little vibrator out of her nightstand drawer, wet it with her spit, and try to chase down an orgasm that'll only leave her aching for more.
Her eyes flick to mine, ignoring my question. “Is Beckham home?”
I shake my head. “No.”
