Page 8 of Shy Girls write it Better
She breathed out confidently when her boss stormed off toward her lair without adding anything, until a voice she recognized called her name.
“Ms.Franklin, in my office, if you please.”
Why did she recognize him without looking?She’d spoken to him exactly twice.But there was no doubt that it came from Carter Harris.He was standing in front of his temporary glass office, holding the door open.His face was unreadable, but the moment she saw it, Cassie was certain of two things.
Firstly, it had been him and not Trick who had ended up with her manuscript.Secondly, he had read it.Which lead to the third point: she was inexorably very, very fired.
Carter
How he managed to keep a straight face, he didn’t know.The poor woman was sitting in front of him with her hands knotted on her knees, on top of the folder she’d brought with her, eyes down, looking contrite like a naughty kid sent into the principal’s office.
Painfully aware that a dozen people were looking at them through the translucent walls, not even bothering to hide it, he willed himself to remain professional at all cost.
Damn, he was so close to cracking up.
“So.”
He left the word hanging between them without adding anything for a minute.When she stole a peek at him, he just couldn’t help shooting her an amused smirk.
That surprised her; her wide eyes bulged on her pretty face.
“Tame Me If You Can?”
“I can explain.”
He lifted an eyebrow, increasingly amused.
“I found the content quite self-explanatory.I take it this is my contract,” he asked, pointing to the document sitting on her pretty legs, blocking his view.
She wore something surprising today; not quite office-appropriate.The casual burgundy dress finished a good four inches above her knees, and was pretty form-fitting on her impressive rack.He approved.Almost as much as her messy hairdo; rather than the prim and proper usual style, she’d just pulled it into a messy bun.He didn’t even think she wore any make up.Strangely, she looked her age, for once, and she was considerably more sensual.This was probably how Cassie dressed outside of the office: effortlessly charming, casual.
The women he frequentedneverlooked like that.Ever.Probably because he took them to galas, formal dinners, and art gallery openings.Cassie struck him as the kind who’d prefer a cinema date.
Fuck.Why thehellwas he thinking about dating, now?He didn’t do the whole dating thing.He had simple, straightforwardarrangementsthat could be summarized in one simple sentence: he wined, dined, and fucked his conquests.That was it.No room for cinema, or movie night on the couch with Buddy tucked between them on the sofa.
Great.He’d even brought his damn dog into his stupid fantasy.
“Yes,” she said, getting up to slide the folder on his side of his desk.“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened…”
“Simple mistake.Thank you for bringing it back, Cassie.You can get back to work.”
He watched her with amusement as she hurried towards the door, before slowing down and turning back to him.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Oh, sweetheart.Don’t call me sir.
After reading her admittedly poor attempt at writing BDSM, he couldn’t help imagining all kind of naughty things when that word passed her lips.
Please, sir, may I be allowed to come on your tongue?
“Yes, Cassie?”
His voice was intense, thick with forbidden desires, and she must have heard it because she looked up.Good.He liked when she met his eyes – which wasn’t often.
The fleeting moment passed too soon.
“My… manuscript.You have my manuscript, sir.”
