Page 50 of Heartless Boss
“Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
She doesn’t know how much those two words resonate in my bones.
* * *
As I sit at the breakfast nook, I watch Gia lean against the stove, pushing shrimp in the stainless-steel skillet with a spatula. I’m surprised she’s still standing after I fucked her against the glass shower. As soon as we are finished eating, I’m not going to waste any time getting back inside her.
She turns around with a smile plastered across her face and says, “Netflix uploaded a new series ofDynasty. I think we should check it out.”
“You never heard of that show?” I cock my eyebrow. “It came out in the 1980s.”
She turns back around, facing the stove, pulls the skillet to another burner, and turns the knob off. “I have seen that one, but CW rebooted it and the first season is out.”
“We’re not going to watch the show. I’m going to be too busy fucking you until my dick falls off.” Her pussy is like liquor to me.
She climbs on the lava counter to grab the tortillas from the top shelf. I tilt my head to the side, trying to get a look at her bare pussy, but I can’t because she hops down from the counter too quickly.
Fuck me. My dick is hard again. I might have to run to Costco and grab a few forty-packs of condoms.
“No, Wolf. You’re going to keep your manly parts to yourself. I’ve been waiting for this show to come out since last year.”
“Use me as a chair and sit on my face while you watch the show.”
“You’re such a horndog.” She rolls her eyes. “I need to talk to you about something,” she says, grabbing a round, blue plate from the black cabinet right next to the fridge, placing one in front of me. “I need to find another place to live if we’re going to keep doing whatever we’re doing.”
“I prefer the term ‘dating,’” I interject.
She smiles at my words and opens the bag, placing a tortilla on my plate. “I need to find a new roomie as well.” She grabs a spatula and dumps shrimp onto the plate along with sour cream, salsa, and lettuce.
“Why? I like having access to you twenty-four seven.” I grimace.
“Well, I don’t want to get attached to you. I’m afraid that if we spend too much time together, it will happen.” She sits on the barstool next to me.
I’m already attached to her. We’ve been living together for two months and I can’t picture living without her. Not because of the sex, but because I want to get closer to her. She’s the yin to my yang. We click. My emotions are all over the place with Gia. Yep, I’m officially pussy-whipped, that explains why I’m having crazy thoughts.
“No.”
“But I have to protect myself. I don’t want to depend on you. When things go south for us I won’t have anything to fall back on, and I’ll be back at square one. I’ll have to find a job, and I’ll have to find somewhere else to live. Unlike you, I don’t have tons of money. I’ll be left jobless and homeless with emotional scars. I’m not repeating history.”
I want to probe her for more answers about her last statement, but after our conversation earlier this morning it’s best not to ask. She’ll close up like a clam, and I don’t want to ruin our day with depressing shit.
She doesn’t have any hope for us to work, and I don’t blame her. And I need to remind myself that this is an experiment. She isn’t going to stick around if she finds out about my PTSD—it would be a lot to accept, and I won’t burden her with my demons.
I don’t like it, the thought of her not being with me all day, but I see her point of view. And in fact, I admire that about her. She isn’t trying to milk money out of me.
“Find another job, but I’m not giving in on you moving out. I’ll put the condo in your name so when the shit hits the fan between us I’ll be the one to move out.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she says, with a smile plastered on her face.
“Welcome.”
Awkward silence settles between us, and she watches me as I wolf down the shrimp tacos.
“You’re not going to eat?”
“I already ate ice-cream and cookies this morning while you were in your office.” I turn my head sideways and she continues. “I only eat sweets on Saturdays.”
