Page 58 of Falling

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s amazing.” I would never do anything to hurt Brontë’s feelings. I adore her only slightly less than Rand.

“Anything exciting happen on your trip?”

Is he fishing? My stomach is starting to churn again. I set the rest of the bottle of beer on the coffee table.

“Not really. We managed to survive the wilderness,” I hedge. He studies me for a minute. I swear I’m starting to sweat from the scrutiny. How am I going to keep something this big from him? Surely he’ll go back to Dansboro Crossing soon so I can have some peace.

“Okay,” he says, like he doesn’t believe me. “Well, I’m supposed to meet Brontë for lunch. Want to come?”

“Nah, I’m going to hang here for a little while. I’ll see you at the office later.”

“That works,” he says, rising from the couch. “Don’t forget we’re taking you and Geneva to dinner later. We want to celebrate our first day as a legitimate business.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Fuck, I need to miss it. I can’t sit for an hour without cracking.

“Great. I’ll see myself out. I’m glad you’re here, buddy.”

“Me too.” He slaps me on the shoulder before letting himself out.

“Fuck me,” I moan.

I watch the sun for another hour before heaving my ass off the couch. There’s no way I’d show up at the office in sweatpants. I slide on fresh slacks from a wardrobe box. With a pressed button-down shirt, I at least look like a professional.

My facial hair is almost completely grown back out. I’ll think about it later. I doubt there are any clients in the office already, but you never know. I should pass for today.

The office is empty when I arrive. I assume Geneva is still unpacking and the other two haven’t made it back from lunch. Bernadette, Rand’s secretary, isn’t even behind her desk. That’s good. It gives me a chance to wander around without being watched.

My office is the largest in the suite. It has to have room for my drafting table and computer system. I draft using both, depending on my mood. The back wall is painted blue with a cream design on it. It’s perfect. Blue is one of the colors I see best. Geneva said she wanted me to be surprised, and I am.

“What do you think?” she asks from my office door.

“I think you’ve outdone yourself,” I answer. Moving behind the computers, I try out my new desk chair. I have a drafting chair and two side chairs also.

“It’s magnetic. You can put up your drawings if you need to.”

“Seriously? That’s genius.” I spin around to try out one of the magnets from inside my desk.

“Where did you go? I came back out of the bedroom and you were gone,” she says.

“I thought you were tired of me,” I answer, swinging back around to face her. “I assumed you were ready for me to leave.”

She stalks toward me. She’s wearing a sweater dress that hits just above her knees. Black tights peek out from underneath. The fuzzy boots I love have made another appearance. When she reaches my chair, she rakes the bottom of her dress up her thighs. She places a knee on either side of my hips and straddles my lap.

“I’ll never get tired of you,” she purrs. “And a boyfriend should always say goodbye before he leaves.” She places a kiss on the edge of my mouth.

“I’ll remember that next time.”

“See that you do, or when I get you home, I’ll be forced to punish you.” This time, she slides her tongue into my mouth when she leans back in for another kiss. My hands grab her ass, pulling her toward my aching cock. How does she get me so worked up so fast? “I’ll enjoy it,” she hisses.

“What in the hell?”

We both jump up from the chair hard enough that it bangs against the wall. Geneva smooths down her dress. I’m a lost cause. It’s not like you can just smooth down an erection.

“Rand,” I squeak. “This is not—” I don’t know how to finish. This is exactly what it looks like. We couldn’t even keep a secret for the day. I clear my throat and try again. “Listen, I know I made a promise. But it just happened.” I’m stumbling over my words, and he’s standing in the doorway with a look of rage on his face. “I can’t do this, Geneva. It’s giving me an ulcer.”

“Fine,” she snipes. She doesn’t even seem the least bit rattled. “If you must know, I was thinking of fucking Peter. Again. So get over it.”

“Shit, Geneva,” I sputter. “Maybe a little less aggressive.”

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