Page 22 of Be Your Anything
It’s amazing the things you learn about someone when your relationship shifts from friends to sexual.
Like what cologne they like you to wear.
Their favorite outfit you own.
The fact that, for such a good girl, Lennon is surprisingly bad. She likes to get a little dirty, enjoys a little bit of role play. It’s always a wild ride, our chemistry off-the-charts explosive.
I was actually surprised about it in the beginning, originally assuming that anything between us would just be something to scratch an old itch, something to cross off the fuck-it list.
Even though it makes me feel a little bit guilty, sex with Lennon is the only thing I enjoy about having an open relationship with my girlfriend.
Pushing that thought away, I allow myself to spend a moment in the shower continuing the memory of that night at the school, when Lennon and I had sex in Mrs. Ralforth’s classroom.
No, not just sex.
Hot sex.
Amazingsex.
Lennon laid back on the desk, her legs spread and her little bikini hanging off of her, her fingernails digging into my back.
My hand smacks against the dial on the wall, plummeting the water’s temperature to something frigid that will keep me from giving in to the urges that are currently racking my body.
I wait a few seconds until I’ve cooled down, and then I finish washing up and step out, toweling off with a bit more aggression than usual.
I check the time as I yank my clothes on, making sure I have things planned out correctly before allowing myself the few extra minutes to put on some cologne and fix up my normally messy head of hair.
My eyes snag on the vase of flowers Wyatt brought Hannah for just a second before I leave, and I wonder how Lennon would react if I ever…
I clear my throat and turn away, heading for the door, letting that thought float out of my mind like a wisp of smoke, disappearing completely before it can become anything real.
CHAPTER5
LENNON
I set the phone back in the cradle and let out an overly dramatic sigh.
It isn’t the thirty-minute-long conversation with the representative of the celebrity chef scheduled to cater the fundraiser that has me frustrated.
That conversation was actually surprisingly delightful in comparison to some of the other fires I’ve been dealing with as final confirmations and approvals come through before I can get invitations delivered.
No. It’s this horrible chair that has my ass aching and my shoulders straining, my neck feeling like it wants to just let my head fall right off my body.
We are abillion-dollar foundationand we can’t get better chairs? Ones that don’t make me feel like my body is going to snap in half and collapse to the floor at any moment?
I make a note on my to-do list to have a chat with Diana about getting a replacement—or even just a pillow for my ass—along with following up about an earlier request I had Kerrigan make to fix the lights in the conference room before the board meeting next Wednesday.
I’ve been noticing that the requests my assistant makes go unanswered, but the times when I reach out to Diana directly seem to result in faster movement. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the Roth name pressures my colleagues to do what I ask of them, and I try not to throw that weight around too often.
Diana is the office administrator, and along with managing walk-ins and the front phones, her main priority is to cater to the needs of the various departments. That includes ordering furniture, scheduling repairs with the maintenance team, and answering emails from my damn assistant.
If a department requests something, Diana should be getting on it, regardless of who the person was that asked for help.
I rotate my neck, letting my head fall back and around, trying to stretch out the muscles. Just a bit longer and I should be able to head home.
Normally, I don’t work this late. The first six months of my job at The Roth Foundation were a lot more relaxed as I took over responsibilities in a slow-building wave, but now that the summer is halfway over, expectations for fall events—a huge priority as historically they’ve been responsible for nearly eighty percent of total donations for the year—are starting to pile up.
That wave is starting to look more and more like a tsunami, and I’m working longer hours to stay on top of it all.
