Page 53 of Don't Call Me Daddy
He coughs, then shakes his head, looking irritated. “Fine, but keep it work-appropriate. And everyone will need to sign a waiver before drinking any alcohol.”
I loosen my grip and tap him on the cheek, his afternoon scruff scratching against my palm. “Good boy,” I say with a wink.
Everyone breaks out in cheers, and it’s only then that I remember we’re not alone. His hard chest moves under my palm as he breathes small, quick breaths, and judging by the way he’s looking at me, I’m not sure if he wants to spank me or kiss me …
Lucky for me, I’d be happy with either.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Leo
Fucking hell, I’m in over my head.
I need to get my shit together, rein in the stupid fucking urges that haunt me nonstop, and get over thiscrushso I can focus on what’s really important.
But calling what I feel for Ivy Lane a crush seems like the understatement of the century. No, I’d say my thoughts of her are borderline obsessive at this point, and the only thing I can do is try to avoid her by smothering myself in my work.
I even went as far as moving her into her very own office, normally reserved for my executive assistant that I still haven’t gotten around to replacing. She might have a shared door to my office, but at least I can somewhat keep her from causing too much trouble with the staff.
Every morning, we get ready and eat breakfast in silence, where she makes sure I have a full glass of water and breakfast in my stomach before she lets me have any coffee. Then, we drive to the office as I force myself to go along with her small talk, answering questions and pretending I’m not thinking about howwet her pussy got for me or the pretty pink flush of her cheeks as she held back her moans.
Fuck, I’m hard all over again, just thinking about it. I think I’ve had a permanent boner since the moment she stepped through my doorway and agreed to this stupid charade. I’m afraid my cock’s going to get stuck like that because heaven knows jerking off to her every night isn’t doing a goddamn thing to help.
I don’t trust myself to be alone with her and have found an excuse every night this week to leave just so I don’t have to be.
But not tonight.
Thanks to my temporary moment of weakness, agreeing to this trivia night, I’ve got to force a smile and play nice, no matter how badly it pains me.
I look around as people start to file in, all wearing smiles on their faces. Sure, Kingsley Industries is a good place to work overall, but these folks are from my department, and I’ve never seen them so happy. Hell, Ricky threw his back out, demonstrating how to do the worm at lunch earlier this week, and is walking on a cane. But judging by the grin on his face, you’d never know it.
“Leo, could you grab a couple of pitchers of water to put on the tables? I’m going to do one more mic check,” Ivy says.
She’s wearing denim cutoff shorts and a cropped white tank top that reveals her belly button when she lifts her arms or moves just right.
She’s sexy as fuck. All smiles and sunshine.
“Sure. Yeah. I’ll go grab some.” I shake my head, trying to get my mind back out of the gutter, but she’s not making things easy for me.
I help myself behind the bar and into the kitchen, where I know Jett keeps the extra serving supplies, and grab four water pitchers from the shelf.
“What the fuck are you doing back here? You’re not wearing slip-resistant shoes or a hairnet,” Jett’s voice calls from behind me, and I spin around to face him.
“Relax. I was just grabbing some extra pitchers. Didn’t want to inconvenience you. It’s really picking up out there, and as far as I can see, you’ve only got one server working tonight …”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, I had two servers call in sick, so we’re making do.” He tilts his head to the door. “If you hadn’t invited your entire company, it wouldn’t be a problem. I couldn’t find anyone to fill in so last minute.”
I scratch my chin, feeling like a dick. He’s right; I told Ivy I’d make the reservation, but it totally slipped my mind, as I was too distracted by the actual work that needed my attention.
“You got an extra pair of shoes around here?”
Jett narrows his eyes. “Leo, I don’t need any favors. I’ve got it under control?—”
“We need all hands on deck back here. I’ve got thirteen tickets waiting, and we’re approaching a forty-five-minute ticket time!” one of the guys on the line yells, and Jett just shakes his head.
“Let me bring these waters out, and I’ll be right back. I’m going to need those shoes and a hairnet.” I move past him, and I fill the pitchers with water and ice and head to the table.
“Leo, this is all amazing. I can’t believe you approved it,” Fran from accounting says as I place the waters on the table.
