“You serious?” asked Braeden. We were in the guest room at Bruce’s house. He had to head to the office for a meeting shortly after I brought the banana back, and he’d told me to take as much time as I needed before I came in. I had just finished explaining my assignment from Hank to Braeden.

“Yes. But it probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I think Bruce is as clean as a whistle. And even if he wasn’t, I’m thinking I couldn’t write the piece. I wouldn’t want to betray him.”

“What if he finds out?”

“He won’t. I’m only telling you because mom and dad know. I wasn’t sure if they’d mention it to you and then you’d mention it to Bruce by accident. So you don’t say anything about the piece to him, okay? I think I actually like the guy, and I don’t want to mess it up. I need to find the right time to tell him myself, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

I looked at him and sighed. Thank God he had cleaned up. Seeing him the way he was in the park had broken my heart. “What were you thinking?” I asked. “Mom and Dad said you told them you were with me, but I didn’t even have a text from you. Did you think you’d just make it as a homeless man for a week or so until they were ready to let you back in the house?

He looked away and picked at the comforter on the bed he was sitting on. “I was thinking how shitty it was to keep putting you out like I do. I mean look at me, Nat. I’m a grown-ass man and I have jack shit to show for it. My crowning achievement is my pokemon collection, and yes, I realize how horribly pathetic that is. Mom and dad are sick of me. I know you’ll never admit it, but I’m sure you are. I’m sick of me. I’m tired of being such a fuck-up, but it feels like it’s too late to do anything about it.”

I put my hand on his knee and squeezed. “Hey. You’re not a fuck-up. You just haven’t found your thing yet. Okay? So stop beating yourself up. And please don’t ever think I’d rather find you sleeping in the park like a homeless person than deal with your mess in my place. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re my pain in the ass. And I’m always going to be here to take care of you if you need it.”

“Would this be a bad time to ask for a couple bucks?”

I fished out a five dollar bill I couldn’t afford to part with and handed it to him. “Don’t even tell me what this is for, but this is all I can afford right now. Bruce isn’t even paying me.”

“What?” asked Braeden, who pushed the bill back into my palm. “The guy lives in this fucking mansion and he’s making you work for free?”

“It’s an internship,” I said.

“This is exactly why I’m chronically unemployed, you know. Let me guess, you’re expected to just work there as long as they see fit and hope they toss you a job eventually?”

“I think that’s the formula. It doesn’t matter though. Not technically, anyway. I was only working at Galleon for the piece, remember?”

“Right. The piece you’re too much of a softy to write.”

“Even if I wasn’t being a softie, I’m almost positive there is nothing to write about. He’s just a guy who is good at what he does. He’s not corrupt.”

“Ah, the classic case of cock-goggles.”

“First of all, ew. Second of all, I’m going to barf if I have to hear my brother talk about ‘cock’ again.”

"Cock goggles," he continued matter-of-factly as if he hadn't even heard me, "are a widely-known phenomenon where a woman overlooks the fact that a man is a cock because he has a cock that she hopes to enjoy.”

I stuck my fingers in my ears and fake gagged. “Please. Please. I’ll give you my apartment if we can stop this conversation now and pretend it never happened.”

“Tempting offer. Do all your unpaid bills come with the package?”

“Ass,” I said. “Yes, they would.”

“Then you can keep your shoebox and I’ll keep being a failure. Sound like a deal?”

Bruce’s schedule was full of meetings. Braeden had already been staying at Bruce’s place for three days now, and I’d admittedly found an excuse to come inside and check on my brother every day so far. It also gave me the opportunity to see Bruce out of his element. He was a little different at his apartment. Slightly less tense, but still the control freak I was coming to enjoy.

There were only five minutes left until he liked to have his banana, but he was still stuck in his meeting. I thought I’d do the helpful thing and bring it to him in the conference room, so I headed down to the break room. I picked up the banana, which had his name written in big black letters over almost every available surface.

“I see you’re not afraid to touch the boss’ banana anymore,” said a woman’s voice. I looked to the table in the break room. I thought I recognized her as the woman who had implied I was sleeping with Bruce a week or two ago. Thankfully, she was the only other person in the break room.

I held the banana up and looked at it, like it held the magical answer to diffuse the awkwardness. “Only with his permission,” I said lightly, and then winced as I played my words back and found the innuendo. But it might have been possible to talk about a man’s banana without innuendo.

“Oh, well it’s nice that he asks you to do it first. You’re still an intern though, so you must not be touching it right.”

I considered walking away then. There was no point lowering myself to her level when she was clearly just trying to be nasty. It wouldn’t been the right thing to do, maybe. But I didn’t feel like doing the right thing, so I took a step toward her.

“You’re really concerned about Bruce’s sex life. Do you want me to tell him you’re interested? He’s in a meeting, but I’m heading in there now. I could let him know you’re waiting in here for him. Would you like that?” I asked sweetly.

She pressed her lips together in an angry line as she stood and stormed out. I felt petty for stooping to her level, but I had to admit it was also satisfying. If she wanted to keep butting into my barely existent sex life and assume nasty things about me, she deserved it.

I opened the door to Bruce’s meeting as quietly as I could, feeling more than a little self-conscious with the banana in my hand. There were serious looking men all around the table in expensive suits. Bruce was sitting next to William, which was still a jarring sight, like seeing him beside some kind of distorted reflection of himself from a dimension where he wasn’t such a perfectionist.

Bruce eyed the banana, but William was the first to speak.

“Tell me, Bruce,” said William. “Why is it that everytime I see your intern, she seems to have her hands on your banana?”

Bruce cleared his throat, and everyone in the room but William simultaneously shifted in discomfort.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want to interrupt but I knew you get cranky without this.”

“You did a good job, Natasha.” His eyes fell to my hand on the banana, and the way his eyebrow twitched up just a fraction of an inch managed to make me feel like I was doing something sexual as I handed it to him.

I straightened and smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt before nodding awkwardly to everyone, who was staring at me, and heading for the door. I gripped the handle and pulled but the door didn’t budge. I made a sound between a nervous laugh and a grunt of desperation and pulled harder. I gave it three more firm tugs before I stepped back, huffed at the door, and then turned to look at Bruce with a helpless expression.

He got up, walked to the door, and pushed.

“Oh,” I said. “Push, not pull, huh?” I scurried out of the room before anyone had a chance to say a word and then practically dove head-first into the nearest bathroom to decompress.

Bruce found me half an hour later when I was hiding by the copiers. I’d been “working” here for almost two weeks now and I didn’t actually have any job responsibilities. It was maddening. I shuttled Bruce to and from the office. I followed him if he went on a business outing, but beyond that, I was forced to wander around the office and pretend I was busy.

One of the easiest things I’d found to do was to sneak a paper off someone’s desk and make a bunch of copies of it. Then I could carry it around from one end of the office to the other until there was something to do.

It was ridiculous, and I knew Bruce knew, because I’d finally complained about it to him a few days ago. The smug bastard had just told me he liked seeing the “funny little ways” I came up to pretend I was busy.

“Hmm,” I heard Bruce say as he walked up from behind me. “A hundred copies of somebody’s order receipt for fiber pills from Amazon. Yes. I can see why we would need to circulate that around the office.”

I honestly hadn’t even looked at what I was grabbing. “Tell me the truth,” I said, ignoring his tease. “Did you guys talk about how much of an idiot I made out of myself in there once I left?”

He chuckled. “Yes. two billionaires from Japan and the entire executive staff of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the Western world sidelined their meeting to talk about the clumsy intern.”

I glared at him, even though I felt a little relieved. “You don’t have to be a sarcastic ass about it.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. They really did stop the meeting to talk about it. Mr. Kyoto was particularly amused.”

“What?” I asked.

Bruce cracked a smile. “Now I’m messing with you. No one talked about it, Natasha. They hardly even noticed.”

“I doubt that, but thank you. Look, Bruce, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Me too,” he said. He looked over his shoulder and saw a group of women coming toward the copier. “Come on. We can talk in my office.”

Once we were in his office, Bruce turned, barely giving me any room between the door at my back and his body in front of me.

“I wanted to tell you—”

“Me first,” he said, interrupting me.

There was no arguing with that tone. With those eyes. It was the same look I saw after he’d eaten the banana split, right before he ripped my clothes off and gave me the orgasm to end all orgasms.

“I’m done pretending I don’t want this.”

“This?” I asked breathlessly. “You’re going to have to be more specific. You could be talking about a car you saw at a dealership. Or knowing you, a banana.”

“You. I’m not going to fool myself anymore. I want you, Natasha. You make me want to be like I used to be. To let my guard down and enjoy life.”

I swallowed hard. I needed to tell him. I wasn’t going to even write the piece anymore, so how bad would it really be to admit the truth, that yes, I had originally come here to dig up dirt on him, but I decided very quickly not to do it. That counted for something, right?

My thoughts went back to the conversation we had after I met Valerie, about how he thought I was special because he could trust me.

He deserved to know the truth but I couldn’t stop convincing myself there’d be a better time. Maybe an opportunity to tell the truth would come up where I’d feel he might understand. I was going to tell him. I knew I was. But maybe this just wasn’t quite the right moment.

“What if I don’t know what I want?” I asked.

“Then you can either spend the rest of your life wondering if it would’ve worked, or you can find out.”

I felt that same feeling from the night we kissed, like the world was blurring out of existence around us. Everything about him seemed sharper and more intense. The full lips. The striking eyes. The crisp, clean smell of him.

“And what if we come to different conclusions?” I ask. “What if I decide I want it but you don’t?”

“What if I’m tired of answering questions and I just want to taste you again?”

I let a smile play across my lips as I leaned in and kissed him. It was just as good as I remembered. Better, even. His tongue moved against mine slowly at first, but the kiss quickly turned from tentative and exploratory to hungry and desperate. He ran his hands through my hair, up my shirt, and down my skirt, greedily finding every last place he wanted and taking as much as he dared.

Our bodies grinded together. His erection pressed into me as he lifted me and held me against the door, kissing me and dry fucking me. I tried not to gasp or cry out like my body was wanting to. I knew his secretary was just outside the office and there could be any number of people waiting to come see him.

“You know,” I said between kisses. “I think I owe you after last time.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I enjoyed it more than you did. I guarantee it.”

He kissed my neck and my earlobe, lighting my body on fire with every touch. “Can’t you just pretend you expect me to do it? Are you going to make me beg?”

“Do what?” he asked, pulling back slightly so I could see the wicked smile he wore.

“Return the favor,” I said.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Bastard. “A blowjob,” I said.

“Hm. If you want to do it so badly, I suppose I wouldn’t stop you.”

I tried to swat at his face in frustration, but he caught my wrist, meeting my eyes with an intensity that made me feel like I was about to melt into a puddle at his feet. “Beg for it. Tell me how much you want my cock, and maybe I’ll let you have it.”

All my pride went out the window. This wasn’t about degradation or self-respect. We were dealing in pleasure. It would turn him on to think I wanted to suck his cock so badly I’d get on my knees and beg if it came to it. When I looked at Bruce and the way he towered over me with those broad shoulders and perfect features, I wanted nothing more than to bring him pleasure. It was almost too hard to believe that a man like him was at my mercy, and the power from that thought was intoxicating.

“Please,” I said, a little awkwardly. “Let me put your banana in my mouth one more time.”

I thought he might grin or laugh, but he just took a step back and pressed down on my shoulders, urging me to my knees. When he didn’t move to unzip his pants, I figured he expected me to. He really must get turned on by the thought of me being desperately horny for him. Good news for him, I was desperately horny, so I wasn’t going to have to do a good acting job. I’d just need to let go and try not to let my brain get in the way of what my body wanted.

So I chewed my lip and shoved down every last inhibition I had. I let the pounding, unbearable desire to do every last dirty thing I’d ever fantasized about come to the surface, and I let it rule me.