Chapter 4

Crissy

Thirty minutes into my day and I was already over it. He acted as if the computer system was some high-tech piece of gold I’d need a key and the hand of Satan himself to operate. The computer didn’t even have a password on it for fuck’s sake. I set up a password so it would lock when I was away. Then I went into the calendar system and began toggling things around. His schedule was all sorts of fucked up. No wonder he was so on edge. I switched a few lunch meetings around and shot off a few emails about the changed times. Then I looked up and saw his eyes hooked on his computer screen. He was squinting at it, no doubt registering the changes I was making. Then he sat back and locked his hands behind his head.

There was no denying that Grant Jacobs was a fine piece of meat. He did more for that suit than it did for him, but tailoring a decent suit was easy to teach a man. The fun little lecture he’d given me this morning was already making my head pound. Like I was some idiot who couldn’t remember a few bullet points in a conversation! His commanding nature was nice, though. He enjoyed having the upper hand, and I could admire that in a man. If my nipples hadn’t been so fucking sore from the night before, I would’ve smirked at the fact that they were hard right now.

But then my mind fluttered to that crack he made about my phone. Why would he say something like that?

I leaned back in my chair as I pulled out my phone. I started flipping through a few things, swiping a few pictures, and ogling a few pretty blue eyes. The men all had baby faces, which was cute until you figured out their tongues worked like a baby’s, too. A real man, a man like Grant Jacobs, would know how to use his tongue in just the ways I was looking for.

My skin heated up as his voice boomed across to my desk.

“Enjoying the technology I have for you?” he asked.

“Your schedule was bullshit,” I said. “I fixed it up and sent off a few emails.”

“Have you gotten used to the phone yet? There’s a headset in the bottom left-hand drawer if you’d prefer to use that. Hands-free might be easier for you.”

“Hands-free is always the best way, Mr. Jacobs,” I said, grinning. “Should I be taking notes on your comments on my phone?”

His face grew stern before he turned his back and walked into his office. Just before he shut the door, I got the best view of his ass, and it was more beautiful than what I’d seen in my dreams last night. Tight. Perky. Slender. The ass of a runner who decided a few squats every now and again would do him well.

And boy did it ever do him well.

I ripped my attention back to my phone as it buzzed in my hand. Sissy had sent me a text message, and I couldn’t wait to see her reply. I’d sent her a picture of my pierced tits. I didn’t know if she was going to be envious or fly off the handle, but I had a response prepared for both.

But when I opened the message, all it said was, Good luck, Crissy. You’ll kill it.

Nothing? Nada about the picture? I sent her an email about my nipple piercings! That warranted some sort of reaction, right?

Did you not get my email?

I sent the text message just as the phone rang. I sighed, setting my cell down before I took the call. I didn’t have time for this right now. I was trying to figure out why the hell my sister hadn’t reacted to the biggest thing I’d done since graduation! I jotted down the person’s name and the times they were free to do another lunch meeting. Then I hung up just as my cell phone buzzed again.

What email?

What email? Was she fucking serious?

The email with the picture of my boobs, Sissy. I got my nipples pierced!

Then Grant’s comment from this morning started to make a little more sense. I scrolled through my email and navigated to my ‘sent’ folder, and the moment I pulled up the email, I gasped.

Holy fuck. I’d sent the picture of my tits to Grant. To his fucking work email. How the hell did I make that kind of mistake? I saw an email sitting in my draft folder, and I clicked it open and scanned the poorly written email that was supposed to be sent to [email protected]

And my sister’s fucking email was [email protected]

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! My phone must have saved his damn work email into my fucking contacts! I opened a new email and typed in the letter ‘G,’ and of course the first email to pop up was GJacobs. All because I drafted a fucking email when I was drunk.

Well, that was one way to make an impression on the new boss.

I tossed my phone to the side before I reached for the drawer that had the headset in it. That thing would make it worlds easier to answer this damn phone that didn’t seem to shut up. I looked up as I got it positioned on my head, and I caught Grant staring at me. The moment our eyes connected, he ripped them away, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. He hadn’t fired me on the spot, so the picture must not have been that bad to him. Plus, I saw him checking out my tits when he turned around from the window this morning, so they obviously did something for him.

Maybe this internship wouldn’t be so boring after all.

As I fielded phone calls and kept filling up his schedule, I thought about Grant Jacobs. I’d had a fun little crush on the man when I was in high school, back when his hair wasn’t dotted with salt. His hair was a thick, luscious mound of dark tendrils, and it framed his strong jaw while accenting his beautiful green eyes.

I never saw him smile often, but the few times I caught him and my father laughing, I couldn’t help but lose myself in the twinkling of his eyes. Grant had just purchased Dad’s company at the time, and while that didn’t make Dad happy, Grant would come over with an expensive bottle of scotch. They’d sit and chat and talk about boring shit I never paid attention to, and eventually the two of them made nice.

And while Grant came over to smooth things over with my father, I got to check out his beautiful body.

Back then, whenever he’d come over, he’d take off his coat and roll up his sleeves. I’d gotten a glimpse of the way his forearms bulged and flexed whenever he grabbed his drink. A few times, he came over in jeans and a shirt on the weekends. On those wonderful, rare moments, I’d gotten to experience the breadth of his chest and the strength of his back. He’d help out Dad with a few things around the house, and I’d watch him flex those beautiful biceps, and all the while, I’d be stealing little glasses here and there of the expensive scotch Grant always conveniently forgot.

But now, his hair was peppered with a bit of salt. Now, his suits hung just a bit too loose on him for a man with that kind of body underneath. Now, his long-ass legs tapered up into a trimmed ass I knew I’d be staring at for months to come.

Because I knew I’d nail this job before his deadline approached.

I had an easy job, a beautiful view of one of the sexiest men to have ever been created, and I would be rubbing elbows with some of the most important people I’d need to know if I ever wanted to own my own fucking company one day. Maybe my father’s idea for this internship hadn’t been a bad one after all, and if it turned out to be a bust, then there was always the view.

The view of those stormy green eyes through only the window that separated us.

The stormy green eyes that twinkled when he smiled and had taken in the sight of my tits this morning.

The phone finally died down, and I got a moment to breathe. I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs, but when I looked up, I saw Grant staring at me again. I set the headset down on my shoulders before I rolled them back, and the way he shifted in his seat told me everything I needed to know.

Tormenting poor Mr. Jacobs would make this job much more entertaining.