Page 19 of Donut Overthink It

Then just as quickly as he stormed in, he exits, slamming the door behind him.

“God, he’s such a fucking cunt,” she growls.

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Once again, I find myself in the conference room with a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. Mr. Kyle sits at the other end of the long table. His jacket is off and over the chair next to him. His shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms as he rubs his unshaven chin while his blue eyes scan the documents in his right hand. He hasn’t spoken to me since he barged into my office earlier today and ordered me to work late. And once again, I didn’t mind. The man is confusing as fuck! He’s always been a dick, but after the way he was to me last night at the restaurant, I think he is upping his game to full-on asshole. And I want him to know that I can play it just as well as he can.

We’ve been sitting here like this for over two hours—in dead silence. And it’s giving me a headache. I remove my glasses and place them on the table. My head falls forward, and I rub my eyes the best I can without smearing my makeup. Letting out a long breath, I pick up my glasses and place them back on. The moment I do, I see his blue eyes across the conference table, glaring at me.

“Are you bored, Miss Burns?” His voice is rougher than usual, like it was last night, and I hold back a shiver.

“No. Just tired,” I say honestly. The day has been long, and of course, he picks today to make me stay late. And even though I told Andrea the pictures didn’t bother me, I still wanna know who took them.

“Perhaps you should go to bed earlier,” he suggests.

“I get plenty of sleep,” I snap, and he rubs his finger over his lips, attempting to hide his smile. He fails.

Then the smile disappears, and his eyes narrow. “Then maybe you should revaluate how you spend your evenings,” he says with a hint of anger.

I bite my tongue. He’s talking about my dinner date last night. He has to be. I open my mouth to tell him that what I do is none of his business but shut it.

“What?” he asks, sitting up in his chair.

“Nothing.” I shake my head to myself.

He folds his hands and leans over the table. “Go ahead and say it.”

I look up at him, and his blue eyes have their usual disapproving look. And I let out a huff. “Maybe instead of telling me what to do, you should take your own advice.”

His brows lift in amusement. “And what would that be?”

I huff. “I’m not playing this game with you.”

He chuckles, and the noise makes wetness pool between my legs. He’s so fucking irritating. “Which game would that be, Miss Burns?” He doesn’t let me answer. “The one where you pretend you don’t want to sleep with me?”

I gasp. Half surprised and half embarrassed. My cheeks flush.

He did not just say that.

He leans over the table, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I’d be more than willing to share my bed with you.” His voice drops to that seductive tone I’ve heard him use on other women, and I hate that it works. “Or this table would do too.”

I snort, trying to ignore that feeling causing my thighs to tighten. He’s just fucking with me. Just like when he saw me staring at him in the elevator mirror door. Just like he did last night at the restaurant. He wants me to quit, and I refuse to let him win. I must stay strong. He thinks every woman wants him, and I hate that he’s right.

The man knows he’s gorgeous. Hell, he dates women who look like supermodels. I’m not his type. And I just think he’s a fucking prick. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Hadley!

“What?” he asks, sitting back in his seat. “I’m not good enough for you? Got some guy who is your little bitch boy who waits on you hand and foot? It sure as hell wasn’t that idiot you were with last night.”

“What and who I do is none of your business,” I snap.

“But you can talk about my relations?”

“Relations?” I say open mouthed. “You parade women through here all the time like little trophies, and don’t act like you don’t know it.” I shut my mouth because I sound like a jealous bitch. But I am. Fuck, how I am. And his smug smile tells me he’s thinking the same thing.

I stand at the front of the office by Millie’s desk. She reads over some paperwork, and her eyes look up as she trails off. I follow her line of sight to see a woman with brown get off the elevator. She has a white dress on that shows off more than she should on a Monday afternoon. I can almost see her pussy and the top has a plunging neckline, showing off her giant tits that look brand spanking new.

She walks right past the desk. “Miss ..?” Millie calls out, but she ignores her as she walks over to Mr. Kyle’s office and enters like she owns the place.

“Who the hell was that?” I ask after she closes the door once inside.

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