Page 71 of Hate Notes

“Agreed,” I said. “Get dressed.”

“Duh,” Ember said as she was already picking up various articles of clothing that were scattered across the small space.

Within a minute, we were both dressed again. I flicked on the light and grinned. “Your hair… it needs some work.” I reached my hands up and did my best to smooth down the stray hairs that had broken free of her ponytail. Ember endured my clumsy attempts for a moment before pulling out her ponytail, bending forward, and easily gathering her hair again before tying it into a fresh ponytail.

“Good as new. Somehow, you still look perfectly normal. I guess I didn’t rough you up enough this time.”

This time.

“So…” Ember said, hesitating with a hand on the door. “Does this mean you’re not going to send me your nightly emails anymore?”

“That will depend.”

“On?”

“Whether I need to know you’re finger fucking yourself on a particular night. And now I imagine I’ll have the option to take the real thing if I choose.”

“Did you just call me a thing?” she asked, grinning halfway.

“You know what I meant.”

“That you’re planning to distract me with nightly booty calls instead of simple, civilized requests to masturbate?”

I cleared my throat. “Those aren’t the words I would choose. But… essentially. Yes.”

“Alright,” she said easily. She reached up and gave my tie a quick series of tugs and pulls, presumably to straighten it. She ran her palms down my lapels, and then…

She cupped my cock through my slacks, gave it a squeeze, and bit her lip as she looked up at me. “So I’ll meet you in your office, then?”

“Not necessary,” I said.

“You are terrible with Davenport on your own. You need me in there.”

“Fine. But I’m not agreeing to that because of what we just did. I’m only agreeing because it makes sense.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “I get it, Orion. We’re just playing around, and you’re not going to give me special treats at work. We already established that, so relax.”

I nodded and tried not to read into the look on her face. It was a look that said she understood the score, but maybe she was having her own doubts about it after the last few minutes.

I wished I could say she was alone in that.

“See you in my office,” I said, pushing open the door and rushing out of the small closet.

33

EMBER

Iwalked into Orion's office on shaky legs, feeling like I had "I just had mindblowing sex in a closet" tattooed across my forehead in neon letters. My body was still humming with pleasure and unfulfilled need—I could feel the wetness between my legs with every step. I had stopped by the bathroom to clean up before coming to Orion’s office, and I found Orion and Davenport were already speaking when I arrived.

Davenport sat in one of the leather chairs across from Orion's desk, looking completely at ease. He smiled warmly when he saw me.

"Miss Hartwell! Excellent timing. I was just telling Mr. Foster here that I had an interesting conversation with that other young man earlier today—Cole Northman. He’s extremely eager to get my business, it seems.”

My stomach dropped. I forced what I hoped was a neutral expression. "Oh?"

"Quite the sales pitch." Davenport's eyes twinkled. "Very polished. Very... rehearsed."

Orion settled behind his desk, his face unreadable. Only I could see the slight tremor in his hands as he straightened his tie—the same tie I'd been gripping minutes ago.

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