Bentley
“What about before? Before we left the office,” her voice is small, pouty. I like it when she sounds like that.
“I’m still your boss, Clarke,” I remind her. I can’t just throw away our professional relationship because I want to see her boobs.
Her eyes glisten, and she looks away shyly.
Urgh, God.
It’s strange. My d**k shouldn’t react this way but it does.
“I know, but it would make me feel really bad. Worse than a slut,” she says softly.
I sigh and let her go.
“This is temporary. You’re getting married in less than eight months. If I don’t act that way, you’ll fall in love with me and we don’t want that, right?”
She stares into the distance as if she’s trying to understand me. I can’t afford for her to fall for me and start making foolish feminine decisions, like calling
