Page 37 of Rulebreaker
“I’m sorry it wasn’t longer,” I whisper, adjusting my skirt and hoping my hair isn’t a rat’s nest. “Um, can I have my underwear back?”
His brows rise slightly. “Those are mine now.”
I open my mouth but snap it shut.
I have to go.
But mostly, I don’t want to think about what we just did or why we did it.
Slam-bam-thank-you-sir.
Keep it simple. Then move on.
“Atlas, I’m sorry…” I reach for my shoulder bag after quickly smoothing my hair. I’m still tingling, I don’t have any underwear on, and I’m more than a little flustered. “I have to go.”
“I know.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, his expression inscrutable.
“I’ll… call you,” I whisper so softly it comes out more like a plea, willing him to understand what I’m feeling, even though I’m not sure myself.. “Promise.”
Then I rush out the door without looking back.
THIRTEEN
Atlas
My phone buzzesand my dick is hard the second I see Lily’s name on the screen.
Then gets harder as I read the text she’s just sent even before I process the words.
Lily: Come fuck me in San Francisco?
I scowl, hear the man on the other side of my desk–and thank fuck it’s big enough to hide the fact that I’m sporting a boner like a teenager–gulp and shift uncomfortably.
Because he’s sitting across from Atlas Delarosa.
Waiting for my opinion on a project he’s just pitched me.
And I’m getting a hard-on from a text, equal parts thrilled at the invitation and pissed that Lily is reducing what we have to just sex.
Isn’t it?
She’s let me into her body but certainly hasn’t let me into her heart.
I know the way she moans as she comes apart, how my name sounds on her tongue when she’s close, can recall the tight clasp of her pussy around my fingers, my dick when I do something to push her closer to the edge. I know how she tastes, how she sounds, how she feels–
And fuck, this isn’t helping me get rid of my erection.
Or putting the kid–who’s presented a really great project to me–out of his misery.
I flip my phone back over, smooth away my scowl, and say to him, “Tell me more about your plans for the first stage rollout.”
He does–and does it well.
And I listen–doing it intently because I know what it’s like to be in his position, to be overlooked, to be fighting, inching, crawling forward.
But that doesn’t mean I authorize the project just because I feel sorry for him or because I see a glimmer of myself in him–even though I do. I okay it because it’s a solid project, because he’s presented good ideas and because his past work at my company tells me that he has the skills and determination to follow through.
It’ll be good for all of us.
