Page 33 of Falling for Them
I can’t remember, so I look it up on my phone.“July twenty-third to August twenty-second.”
His sexy smile returns.“Oh, that’s very interesting.”
“Why’s that?”I ask.
“My best friend is a Leo.Do fire signs get along?”
Shrugging, I ask the search engine.The reply comes immediately.“Very well, it seems.”
“Maybe I could get into this astrology stuff after all,” he says.His phone buzzes in his pocket.He pulls it out and sighs.“I have to take this.I’ll see you later, Ella.”
I find myself smiling at his retreating form.Mr.Tyler helped me forget all about my troubles, for a little while.
If only my boyfriend were more like his father.
Ten
Ella
Tonight is my one night off.I’d hoped, maybe, that Joel and I could do something, and when I texted to suggest a walk in the park in downtown San Esteban, because it’s free entertainment, he wrote back that he’s working.
I could be there, now, if I had a shift tonight.I could go into Joel’s office.He’d close the blinds, then unfasten the buttons at his sleeves and roll the fabric up.His forearms would be thick and powerful, and he’d push me against the desk, spinning me around so I’d have to slam my hands down to catch myself.
He’d hold me down, his hand firm on the back of my neck.While I pant for him, squirming, begging for his touch where I need it most, he would lift up my dress and see my lacy panties.
His deep, rumbling voice would be amused as he says, “Naughty Ella.These panties are so sexy.And soaking wet.What a sweet little slut you are.Tell me, are you trying to tempt other men to want you?”
“No,” I would say.“They’re just for you, Mr.Tyler.”
Abruptly, I leave my fantasy.That wasn’t Joel’s voice in my thoughts.And I would never dream of calling JoelMr.Tyler.He’d probably shit himself laughing.
No, that was Kingston Tyler in my fantasy.
I really shouldn’t be fantasizing about Joel’s dad.Like, not at all.This has to stop.
But I’m so freaking horny, I can’t stand this.
The gala is in four days.Maybe Joel won’t be irritated with me, like he was last night?I’ve seen him hold a grudge, usually against clients he thinks have wronged him.But I haven’t wronged him—I just can’t get a suitable dress.
And if heisirritated with me, maybe we can have hate sex.For fuck’s sake, I would love it if he’d be a little rougher, a little more creative.
Here goes nothing.Picking up my phone, I call Joel.
He answers.I expected quiet, a hush that comes from working late at night in the Tyler Analytics building.
Instead I get deep, rhythmic bass and the chaotic noise of people laughing and talking.
“Hello?”I say.
“Hello?”Joel echoes.“Hey, hi.Ella?”
“Yes, it’s Ella,” I say.“What are you doing?”
“Nothing much.”
“You’re obviously not at work,” I say.“Which is what you’d told me you were doing.”
“Okay, fine, I left work.So the fuck what?Now I’m at Vice.”
