I’d spent the last three hours making a thirty page slideshow for the backpack campaign. I was proud of my work, but some of the ideas needed tweaking. Typically I kept my mouth shut unless he asked for my opinion, but today, I might not be able to hold back. He was so rude to me in front of Mindy earlier that I might bite his head off if he decided to be snotty.
I printed off the slide along with transferring a version onto my pink USB port. Craft always huffed when I pulled them out. Worried you’ll lose that dying technology? You do know everything is saved in the google doc and can be opened in multiple places.
He was such a dick.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my new dress that made me feel sexy and confident then grabbed my iPad and made my way to his office door.
Normally I’d wait to be summoned by Mr. Sexy Asshole, but I wanted to get this meeting over with. I was already hungry and should have texted Mindy asking to grab lunch for me.
Raising my free hand, I flexed my fingers, then fisted them to knock assertively, but my hand betrayed me, turning into a limp noodle and barely making a sound.
His deep voice carried passed the door. “Come in.”
Taking a long breath, I entered his office. The darkly painted room was modern, a coldness filling the space with its minimal design and lack of personality. Mr. Craft was a straightforward man, not wanting anyone to know about his personal life. If he even had one outside of being buried deep inside interns who would happily open their legs for him.
One of those leggy interns happened to be leaning over him and looking at his computer screen, her cleavage practically hanging out. If Craft turned his head, his face would be between the tall redhead’s boobs. Was I so invested in my work that I didn’t even notice her come into his office? Or that I didn’t hear them screwing?
Craft didn’t take his attention away from his screen. “Thanks, Leslie. You can head home for the day.” His dismissal was curt, and the young intern attempted not to look crushed. She looked well put-together, but that still didn’t mean anything. I’d seen many girls leave his office still in one piece, but sporting the glow one can only get from an orgasm.
Leslie waited for Mr. Craft to turn and acknowledge her leaving, but he never took his focus from his screen. She lifted her chin as she walked by me, her emerald green eyes sparkling as if she was in a higher place than I was. I gave her as pleasant of a smile as I could in passing.
Craft rolled in his chair to a stack of papers, thumbing through them while I stood like a moron in the threshold of his office.
“Are you ready to go over the presentation for tomorrow?” I finally asked, stepping into his room and directly across from his shiny black desk.
His jacket was off and draped over his chair. One hand was on his forehead while the other spun a pen in between his fingers. He was focused yet seemed distracted at the same time. The product that styled his hair perfectly was losing its mold. By the way his hand moved from his forehead and through his dark locks to the back of his neck was the culprit. That or Leslie grabbed a hold of it while he fucked her.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he screwed her while I created that damn power point presentation.
“Yes, I am. Close the door and take a seat at my conference table.” His response was assertive, and I obeyed. I needed to work on standing up for myself. Maybe that was why he kept me around, because I took his shit without putting up a fight.
He stretched from his seat at his desk, tossing his pen on a stack of papers in the corner. Grabbing his laptop, he brought it to the table, pulling out a chair for me to sit down. It was a gesture I wasn’t used to in my everyday life. I hadn’t had a boyfriend who was cordial like Craft. He always opened the door, pulled out chairs, let women go first. He was obnoxiously chivalrous, yet his brutally honesty and bluntness ruined his manners.
I didn’t walk toward him until his eyes found mine. Eye contact wasn’t his thing, at least not with me. He rarely met my gaze. The fact I always made him look at me irritated him. I enjoyed getting under his skin when I could.
His jaw was tense while he waited for me to sit down.
Setting my iPad and USB port down on the table, I took a seat, my breath hitching when he pushed my chair under the table with me in it.
“We don’t have all day,” he grumbled in reference to my timid approach.
“I understand,” I sighed, shoving my USB port into his laptop.
I could see his eye roll at side glance. “I asked you to save the PowerPoint in a google doc.”
“I did, but I like to have a backup in case something goes wrong.”
His lips went tight. “Technology doesn’t fail us, it’s the user who creates the issues.”
Such a pompous asshole.
“I don’t create issues, I simply prefer to be prepared in all possible scenarios.”
His brows narrowed, but he didn’t comment on my attitude. “Issues? What kind of issues would you expect for us to come across?”
“Oh, I don’t know, the internet going down?” I couldn’t contain my sarcasm.
“That’s why I have personal hotspots, for the rare occasion the internet goes down.”
I rose a brow at him. “What if the weather is bad? Everyone knows the internet goes flaky in a rainstorm. Especially with cell phones.”
His lip twitched. “I’ve never had issues. Maybe you should change your cell phone provider.”
“What if an alien invasion comes in and zaps out all of the technology?”
He rested his hand on his chin when he looked at me. “If that outrageous prediction happens, we wouldn’t be able to access a computer at all.”
My forehead wrinkled. I hated when he was right. “Why does it matter? As long as we’re prepared it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Well, then by all means, use your dying technology and pull up the presentation.”
Containing my glare, I quickly inserted the port and pulled up the document.
He stayed silent while I worked, situating myself to take notes on my iPad and make changes where it was necessary.
When I was ready, I noticed he was watching me intently, his hard exterior that usually held a scowl wasn’t there. Relaxed facial expressions made him all the more attractive.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the awkwardness of him staring at me made me uncomfortable. “Did you want to get started?”
Clearing his throat, he took a seat next to me, focusing his attention on the slides.
Our interactions were eerily quiet at first, but soon picked up with each slide, having me add and take away information to his approval. He never gave compliments or asked for my opinion, I merely sat at the screen, adjusting the slides to his perfection.
After two hours of sitting in that room while he pondered if my slide creations were up to par, we were nearly done, and my stomach growled.
My body froze and I flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mumbled, standing from my chair and smoothing over my skirt.
“Didn’t know typing was so exerting,” he deadpanned, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms over his head.
“I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. Typically I eat at noon, but since you wanted to go over the slides, I skipped.”
He didn’t have a response, and I was too nervous to look over my shoulder to see his reaction. I shouldn’t have snipped at him, but I was hungry, and normally became cranky and short on an empty stomach.
“Do you have low blood sugar or something?”
His sarcasm wasn’t amusing. “What if I did?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’d assume you’d speak up and say you needed to eat something, or take an insulin shot.”
It took all of me to hold my jaw in place from his insensitivity. The sparkle in his eye dared me to say something, but I kept my mouth shut.
Turning back to the laptop, I stretched my back, well aware of how long I’d been sitting in that damn chair. I’d need to go for a run after work today. That’d help loosen me up some, and it would help to release some steam from the added irritation Craft had caused.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward while standing and continued to the last slide. “What do you think about this one? It’s your closer, so it’s important to…” My breath hitched.
A gentle pressure caressed down my spine to my lower back. Did something fall on me? Did a large spider propel from the ceiling, cautiously creeping along my dress?
I peeked over my shoulder. Mr. Craft was no longer sitting but standing behind me, his focus away from the computer screen and on my lower back. Oh my God, was there really a spider on me?
The gentle pressure became more firm, and a lump formed in my throat. He most definitely was touching me, and a quiver settled in my stomach.
The air was thick, the gentle hum of the laptop mixed with my increased breathing. Did he realize what he was doing? Surely he wasn’t intentionally touching me.
“What are your thoughts,” He murmured, his hand slowly moving to my hip. “I’d like to get your honest opinion.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips, unsure if I opened my mouth that a coherent word would escape or not. “I’m, um, I’m not really sure.”
He sighed, the heat of his breath tickling my cheek. I was hyper aware of his body now, sure he’d at any moment disengage and turn into the giant asshole he normally was.
“I want to know how this should end,” he whispered, his hand moving from my hip back to my lower back. “I need to know if the ending I’m envisioning will match the slides.”
Was he referring to me as the presentation? Is that what he meant? Was he feeling me out, seeing if this was something I was willing to do? To let him touch me? Did he want to go further?
I tilted my head and his lips brushed the shell of my ear by the subtle movement. He kept them in place, his breath steady and in control. He was always so calm and collected in every situation, but I guess that’s how you become a partner in a successful marketing firm.
My blood was pumping wildly. Confusion and desire were beginning to blend together. Surely I was taking this the wrong way. My body was only reacting because he was so fucking gorgeous, not because I had actual feelings toward him. I’d have to be cohesive with his personality and I most definitely didn’t share the same views as him. I liked to think I was kind and patient, while he was stubborn and demanding.
His hand traveled from my hip and up my side, gently moving my almond colored hair away from my neck. “I want to be on the same page as you with this,” he whispered, his fingertips cautiously brushing along the side of my neck. I opened my mouth, only to close it again. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want to cross the line my body was trying to shove me over. It was craving him, beginning to pulse with desire from his simple touch. His exterior was always so hard, not matching these gentle caresses and soft murmurs coming from his hands and mouth.
The smooth pads of his fingers found my chin, forcing me to look over my shoulder and meet his lust-filled eyes. “Ms. Neely, I need an answer.”