Page 2 of Ends of Being

I’ve been sitting at my desk for hours, staring at a computer screen that has me seeing spots in my periphery. I’m at the stagnant point in the accounting process where the numbers on the screen swim in front of me, so I sigh in defeat and push away from my desk, stretching my shoulders and neck as I stand. I’m walking out my office door when I realize I have given myself a distraction mission.

Operation: Bug Dare.

I’ve been working at the same accounting firm as Darius Hughes for a while now and bothering that old stuffed shirt will likely never get old. He’s not easily ruffled, but once you get him flustered, it’s an exceedingly satisfying experience. His eyes get all squinty, and he starts to sweat. I can almost see the steam rising off his person as he undoubtedly daydreams about eviscerating me from his reality.

I know, I know—I’m a juvenile. But I’m a thirty-four-year-old single woman who chose a profession that doesn’t allow for much in terms of daily excitement, and let’s just say the average age of my coworkers is not exactly rave material. So that leaves Darius, or Clark as I like to call him to his face since it drives him absolutely batshit.

I can see his shadow hunched over his desk as I approach his office, and I’m surprised to find his door open, as he typically has it locked up tight. I sneak closer, easing myself into the doorway to spy on him for a few seconds before breezing in to make his day. His entire focus is on the screen before him, his index finger tapping on the mouse rhythmically as he takes in whatever fascinating information is before him.

I snort. He blinks and then sighs loudly, closing his eyes and muttering to himself.

I flounce in and sit down dramatically in the chair in front of his desk. “Hey, Clark. Whatcha up to?”

Dare squints at me. “Antoinette,” he says blandly.

My smile widens; I can already sense his hackles rising at the mere sight of me. So, I sit back and adjust my pencil skirt just so as I cross my legs, showing him a little extra thigh for added effect. I unbutton the top button of my blouse and adjust my shoulders in a way that not-so-subtly pushes my breasts against the thin fabric.

The fucker doesn’t even glance.

I cock one brow back at him, huffing a bit under my breath, “I was getting all cramped up staring at my computer screen and figured it was time for a break.”

“And you thought taking a break in my office was a good plan?”

I nod enthusiastically. “Well, yes, of course. Where best to recharge my battery than with my good buddy, Clark!”

He squints at me again, inhaling deeply through his nose. His hands clench on his desk, his eye twitching minutely as he stares at me, silently.

I’m getting to him already. How unusual.

I jump up, moving swiftly around his desk to stand beside his chair. He doesn’t change his position at all. He remains frozen in place, eyes still focused on the chair in front of him.

I lean down, my face hovering beside his. “You know what you need to do?” I ask in a serious tone.

He glances over at me wearily. “Oh, please, do tell.”

I give him a closed-mouth smile, then roll my eyes slightly as I quip, “You need to turn that frown upside down!”

Now he groans outright, then pushes back from his desk, his hands coming down to slap the top of his thighs in frustration. “Why must you come in here and torment me incessantly? I’ve got work to do; I don’t have time to be your entertainment.”

I give him a stern look, “You know what they say? All work and no play makes Clark a very dull boy. You should consider breaking out of your shell and letting loose for a change. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel obligated to shake you up a bit.”

His eyes meet mine sharply, his voice rough as he whispers, “Oh, Antoinette. You think you know everything about me, but I can assure you—“

“Come on, Clark,” I interrupt, laughing. “You’re not bad boy enough to handle me.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I glance over, surprised to find him staring at me intently. Then the corner of his mouth curves up ever so slightly, until he’s almost smirking at me with the strangest glint in his eyes.

I shiver and laugh again, slowly moving away from the desk and edging toward the door as I say, “Always so serious, Clark.”

He doesn’t respond to my flippant remark, but his eyes are on me as I exit the room, and I can’t control the shudder that runs up my body in response.

Dare

I will never forget the first time I saw her. She was a vision—all long, dark hair and big blue eyes. A sassy fucking mouth that will cut you up and spit you out without a care in the world. She was infuriating and mesmerizing, and I was gone for her in a blink of an eye.

Antoinette, or Toni as she prefers to be called. Oh, how she hates being called Antoinette, which means I only call her that. She goes out of her way to get a rise out of me regularly, so I have to do my part to subtly make her keep coming back to continue driving me crazy.

I never knew my deep masochistic tendencies until her. My intense need to keep her at arm’s length, something I want with every fiber of my being, just to continue the delicious torture. It’s like an illness, a disease of the senses, to keep me from taking her and locking her away in my basement.

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