Page 12 of Employing Patience

Art: Traitor.

Payne: Can you blame me? I’m just glad we’re not talking about Beau for a change.

Griff: Speaking of Beau, tell him I say hey ;)

PRESENT DAY

JOEY

No job I’ve held in my life is as wholly frustrating as this one.

I’m good at it, I like the people I work with, and I even like the customers nine times out of ten. It’s not a long commute, it pays well, and I picked it up like second nature.

The frustrating part … is my boss.

What started as harmless flirting that I’d expected to die off has morphed into something less fake. Less forced. Way more interested. I’ve never been like this before. Any man I’d felt a stirring of attraction for in the past was gone from my mind by the next week. It worked for me. It was supposed to work again.

But I can’t deny Artur de Almeida is under my skin. A burning, fizzing fixture that makes my whole body hum with awareness the second I walk in the front door. I’m always on alert for him, eyes constantly scanning, waiting, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that he’s always here. The anticipation of when I’ll see him means I’m on edge every shift.

A whole year of this. A whole year of quick glimpses and brushed shoulders and his deep, sexy voice throwing back some incredible banter.

I’m beginning to suspect I actually want to fuck my boss.

A man.

Art has me more curious than I’ve ever been before.

“Ah, shit,” Courtney mutters.

I glance over from serving the guy in front of me and find her holding a small knife she was using to cut a lime. She’s slipped and sliced her palm, leaving behind a thin trail of blood.

“You okay?” I grab a wad of paper towel and shove it against the cut.

“Eh, not the first time it’s happened. I’m going to go pop a Band-Aid on it. You know what Art will say if I bleed all over his bar.”

“What will he say?”

The sudden deep voice makes me jump, and there he is.

Full lips, dark skin, and hair that’s never out of place. And those eyes. Every time ours connect, it’s like my gut hollows out and I’m in free fall.

Art … God, I’ve never felt lust like this before. And the more I flirt, the more he turns me down, which is driving that need higher. I can respect a “no,” I can pick up on the signs and know when to back off, but Art gives me all of the signs to keep going.

Like right now, when those stunning eyes sweep over me, his full lips pulling up just a little on one side, before … wham. His eyes hit mine, and the air is punched from my lungs.

I’ve never been a dramatic man, but Art brings it out in me.

Art’s pink tongue swipes over his light brown bottom lip, and I have to hold in my moan. My dick is thickening from being in his presence, and it’s ridiculous the way his proximity ripples through the air and brushes my skin like he’s really touching me.

My jeans are normally snug, but they’re getting almost too tight down one leg as they stretch around my hard cock.

Courtney giggles, stealing Art’s attention. “It’s no secret you like things clean around here.” She leans forward, tits almost spilling out of her top. “I can’t imagine you’d be too happy about me bleeding all over the place.”

“It’s a fireable offense, you know. No bleeding in my bar. It’s the number one rule.”

“I thought the number one rule was no fucking your employees?” I ask.

That gets his attention back on me.

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