Page 57 of Texting the CEO's Obsession
It felt good to knock her down a peg—God knows she deserves it—but it’s not enough. If Riley hadn’t told me flat out that she didn’t want Sloane fired, I’d have sent the bitch packing the second I found out how long Riley’s been doing Sloane’s work for her. The last thing I want to do is upset Riley.
If I piss my princess off, she might leave me to survive off the women I used to pick up at Thomas’s club. Just the thought makes me shudder.
My instinctive reaction to the thought of someone other than Riley touching me feels so foreign that it snaps me into an entirely new train of thought, discomfort curling in my gut. I hum in thought as the realization slides uncomfortably into place.
I’ve nevercaredlike this before.
I was faithful in the few past relationships I bothered with, but I’ve never been one to gravitate toward anything serious. I didn’t cheat, but when something other than my partner snagged my attention, I didn’t stick around either. Riley and I haven’t really discussed a label for what we are aside from the way I call her mine. It didn’t occur to me, but not because it doesn’t matter.
No, it never occurred to me because whatever I have with Riley is already more serious than anything I’ve ever had before.
Riley belongs to me—belongs to me like I’m not even willing to consider letting her go sometime down the road. My obsession with Riley has been so one-sided until recently that I never considered how deeply my feelings for her run.
Before I spent much time around her, I assumed we’d go for a roll in the hay and I’d get her out of my system. Over the year and a half that she’s worked here, that assumption slowly faded away, and I didn’t even realize what started to take its place.
Longing. Affection. Hope.
It catches me off guard how much her belonging to me means to me, my heart tripping over itself in my chest at the answering desire echoing through my mind. I want to be hers just as much as I want her to be mine.
Maybe I alreadyamhers.
I’ve never thought about what it would be like to belong to someone like this, and it’s more overwhelming than I could ever put into words.
I’m not prone to nerves, but I can’t deny that I’m anxious at the thought of having somethingserious. It’s overshadowed by excitement at the thought of having something serious withRiley.
My phone chimes on the desk, and I exhale harshly as I’m yanked back to the present.
I snag my phone from the table and force myself to focus as I skim through the email Marcus’s assistant sent. It’s just the meeting notes, nothing I don’t already know, but it’s mundane enough to keep me from slipping back into my earlier train of thought.
That’s not something to figure out in the middle of the conference room at work. I’ll give myself some time to think about it when I get home. Or tomorrow.
Whenever, just not now.
I stand and make my way out of the conference room, typing up a list of things for Marcus to focus on as I make my way down the hallway toward my office.
A few files are waiting for me on my desk when I shoulder my way in, and I send the email off just as I settle down into my chair. Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I leaf through the files Riley left for me idly, debating which is going to be the biggest pain in the ass.
The files slip as I reach the bottom, falling aside like they’re tipped up a bit by something smaller resting beneath them. Imove them out of the way and hum curiously at the worn leather journal sitting innocuously atop the very last file. Riley must have gotten it mixed up with the files and accidentally left it for me.
Or she intentionally left it.
I crack it open and flip through until stopping on a random page, my brows arching in pleased surprise as I read the first few sentences that cause a filthy grin to spread across my lips.
Well, what do we have here?
CHAPTER 17
RILEY
My heart is still racing as I snag the files from my office and leave them on Nick’s desk.
I wasn’t expecting him to do something like that in the middle of the workday, although considering the things he has done to me when we were still just texting, I probably should have. It’s just different when it’sreal. The texts—especially before I knew who he was—felt similar to journaling. I was writing out my fantasies, just with someone else helping push my imagination to its limits.
I never thought the things I read about in sordid romance novels would behappeningin my own life.
Hell, I never thought most of my fantasies would come true at all. Every time I imagined my future, I assumed I’d settle down with someone kind and hopefully not boring, have 2.5 kids, and live in an HOA. I figured I’d never have anything more than average, boring sex, and that I’d find enjoyment wherever I could.
Nick is not what I thought was in the cards for me.
