Page 15 of Resisting the Temptation
I drive myself home, and as soon as I walk in the door, I get a text.
E:Home safe and sound! Thank you again for tonight. I’m looking forward to next weekend. :)
B:Thank you for letting me know. I’m looking forward to it as well. Get some rest. Goodnight, E.
E:Goodnight, B. :)
I take off my clothes, my cock still hard as fuck since I’ve been replaying the events of tonight over and over again on my way home, imagining all the different ways I can play with my new sub. As soon as I’m under the stream of warm water, I wrap my hand around my length.
Embarrassingly, within ten pumps I’m coming on the shower floor, feeling nowhere near sated.
Waiting a whole week to taste myDulzuraagain is going to be pure torture.
But I’m a patient man, and the torture will be worth the wait.
Chapter 7
Emma
Iturn to the side in the big gold mirror across from my bed, assessing the twentieth outfit I’ve tried on this morning.
At Kirkham Creatives, Daniel and Josh didn’t care much about what I wore. I always made sure to look professional, but some days called for a hot pink pleather mini skirt and off-shoulder, balloon sleeve top, while other days called for a pair of jeans and an old band shirt.
I don’t have a set style, I just wear whatever I like, and sometimes it can make for quite the eclectic outfit. Jordy calls it “dopamine dressing.” I call it “freedom after trauma since I was raised in a family where my dad had to approve every outfit.”
I want to make a good impression on my first day at Rossi Construction, so I opt for a pair of professional, light blue wide-leg pants made of a flowy material, and a white mock neck shirt. I clasp a simple gold chain around my neck, slip a pair of gold hoops in my ears, anddon my usual rings on my fingers before heading out of my room.
I could probably stand to wear something more conservative to hide my tattoos, but I promised myself a long time ago I would stop hiding myself to make others feel comfortable. If someone doesn’t think I’m qualified because of my tattoos or piercings, tough shit.
The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls assaults my senses as I open my bedroom door, and I see Jordan at the counter meticulously frosting the fluffy cinnamon goodness.
“Good luck cinnamon rolls for your first day at your dream job!” They beam, rounding the counter and wrapping me in a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Mimi,” they whisper against my head.
“Thank you, Jojo. I’m nervous but excited. I just hope they like me, and I don’t mess things up.”
They scoff. “They’re going toloveyou. And you’re going to build so many cool buildings and make so many connections. You’ve got this in the bag.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” I sigh. “I’ve got to get going soon to fill out the HR paperwork, so let’s dig in.”
Jordan slides a plate with a cinnamon roll the size of my head over to me, as well as a travel coffee tumbler. “I made your latte with a protein shake because I know you get sleepy without protein in the mornings.”
“Thanks, babe. You’re the best house spouse.” I give them an overdramatic wink, and they roll their eyes at me. Jordy works from home as a therapist, so they take care of a lot of the domestic tasks like grocery shopping, while I make sure the bills get paid on time. We trade offcooking dinner and have a cleaning schedule that helps us keep our place tidy with our busy schedules.
Jordy and I have been best friends since kindergarten, and even though we had a few fights in our teen years, we always made our way back to each other. We’ve been roommates since we graduated high school, but we’ve lived here for seven years.
Once I’m done with my breakfast, I take my coffee and drive over to my new place of employment. The building is a classic industrial structure you’d expect of a construction company. The outside is gray with the Rossi logo, big windows, and glass doors.
The floors inside are sleek, dark gray concrete, and the walls are white. There’s a wall of tiles across from the reception desk that depict some of the projects Rossi has worked on. I’m greeted by the receptionist, who shows me to the HR office, where I fill out all of the necessary new hire paperwork. I didn’t even think to ask about the salary when I accepted this job, and my eyes bulge at the amount I’ll be paid. It’s almost double what I was making at Kirkham Creatives.
“Is this number correct?” I ask Katrina, the Director of HR.
She chuckles. “Yes. The number is correct.
“That’s a lot of money. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“I want to make sure my employees are well compensated for their efforts,” a familiar deep voice says from the doorway.
I turn in my chair to see a man with olive skin and dark hair streaked with gray leaning against the doorframe in a black polo with the Rossi logo on it. He looks vaguelyfamiliar, but I can’t quite figure out why. The only interaction we’ve had was over the phone.
