Page 41 of Call Me Sir

“Because you’re impatient.”

My voice is so hushed. “Yes.”

“Let’s finish eating and see what happens.”

“Okay.”

We finish our food and clear the table. I load the dishwasher as he wipes the table down.

As excited as I am to see where tonight goes, and I know this is cheesy as hell, but I love this moment right here. I wish I could take a candid.

There’s a yearning in my chest, an ache, that I can only capture this moment mentally and can never do more with it.

“You okay?” Suddenly he’s next to me, rubbing my back up and down.

“Yeah.” I give him a little smile and keep working.

What if he thinks I’m ridiculous? Well, I am.

“Need help with anything else?”

I throw a pod in the dishwasher and shake my head. “Go relax. I’ll be in soon.”

Eleven

Sal

Scrolling through a bunch of streaming apps, I try to find something that will hold my attention when my dick is begging to fuck Cole until he can’t speak anymore.

Though I must admit I don’t think it will take much given that he already loses that annoyingly sexy sass when he’s flustered. And I’ve noticed that only I have this power over him.

Guilt pangs in my chest momentarily. Is it because I’m his boss?

All those drummed up concerns dissipate the moment he walks across his living room changed into an oversize Hilfiger sweater, boxers and long socks. He looks fucking adorable.

Shifting to the sofa, I lean back and open my arms to him.

The way his face scrunches up in pleasure and a sense of false confusion, my heart is thrumming quickly.

Burrowing into my chest, he wraps his arms around my chest and I place a gentle kiss to his head.

Fuck, I could get used to this.

I let out a long sigh.

“What are we watching?” He asks, inspecting the TV.

“Ummmm.” I tune into what’s on the screen. It’s a show about the ER, a nurse recapping some horrifying and gory things she’s witnessed. “Not this,” I say, suddenly feeling queasy.

He chuckles at me but doesn’t tease me. He strikes me as a teaser.

“Out with it,” I order.

For once he doesn’t go rigid when I boss him around. “Just strikes me as funny since you seem so tough.”

“I am,” I say in mock defense. “Just don’t love the sight of blood. Sorry for being normal.”

His head shifts and he’s looking up at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry before.”

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