Page 39 of Until I Own You

I haven’t paid attention during this meeting for one single second. In fact, haven’t paid attention at work all week.

I sit back in my rolling chair at the head of the conference table, my feet propped up on the table edge, squeezing a stress ball in my hand. Being the owner of a tech company, I’ve always kept things rather relaxed. Casual dress, comfortable furniture, etiquette be damned. I save all the strait-laced behaviors for the Underground.

Today, though, I could use some of that discipline here at work to at least look like I’m engaged. No one wants a CEO off in la la land.

I can’t help it, though. Can’t control my own thoughts, can’t whip them into submission.

My brain has been all Bridget all the time since our encounter at the wedding.

I almost kissed her. I almost fucked her.

She felt me.

And now that I know she wants me, every part of my body wants to be near her.

I’m dying inside. Betraying myself by keeping my distance.

Not a second goes by I’m not thinking of her.

I barely sleep. I can’t eat. I’m in full body mourning for what I shouldn’t have. Because no longer is there a wrought iron gate of “can’t” in front of Bridget.

She moaned my name. She obeyed me.

I can have her. If I’m ready to break everything.

Someone’s voice cuts through my aching thoughts. “What do you think, Seth?”

I raise my gaze to the presenter at the front of the room, one of the new recruits fresh out of MIT. Rodney.

He’s helming the development of one of our new algorithmic products, trying to make it both marketable and user friendly.

I stare at him.

God, he’s so young. Still splotchy with acne and hasn’t quite nailed down his hygiene routine. The glare of the grease in his dark hair is nearly blinding.

“It’s good.”

Rodney smiles, eyes bright. “Really?”

Is he really asking me to double down? Fine. “Really.”

Yeah, I haven’t been listening, but I’m not about to admit that. And I’m also not going to dash his hopes in front of all these people. I’ll take a look at the proposals later and make sure everything is above board.

I push myself up out of my seat before anyone can comment. “Let’s table the rest of this to tomorrow’s stand up. There’s some things I have to get done before end of day.”

“You got it,” my assistant, Camilla, says. She’s quick to type a memo to herself in the calendar, her wild curls falling over her face.

I can’t manage a thank you, though my team deserves it, before I hurry out of the room to my corner office, shutting the door behind me and triple checking it’s locked.

I lumber over to my lounge chair in the corner and sit with the heaviest sigh, as if I’m Atlas deciding to no longer hold up the sky.

Through the floor to ceiling windows, I get a fantastic view of Manhattan across the East River. As high up as we are, it’s impossible to have any peeping tom neighbors.

Which is great for me. That way, no one can see the CEO of Firmament Industries unzip his pants and release himself into his hand to jack off for the umpteenth time this week. It’s unceremonious and unfulfilling every time, but since the night of Sonia and Edwin’s wedding, my cock has been half-hard. All the time.

Each time I jerk off to thoughts of Bridget, I think and pray it will be the last time. That I just have to get it out of my system.

And each time I’m disappointed when my cock deflates only to harden not half an hour later because I can’t turn my thoughts away from her.

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