Page 42 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

“Why didn’t you tell him an hour?” I said.

"Because Larry is a snoop, and he is going to ask me later about the business meeting you and I are having behind closed blinds," Ian said. "If it lasts too long, he will know it wasn't a meeting."

“Mmm,” I grunted, biting his shoulder gently. “Wasn’t that a meeting?”

He slid his finger around my breast in a circle. “Not a professional one,” he said.

“Who needs professionalism?”

“We do, unfortunately,” he said. “We don’t want word of this getting out.”

My heart twisted. He was right; obviously, as giddy as I was, I didn't want anyone to know we'd just been stroking each other's genitals for the past half hour. But I wondered if he meant more than the literal hookup in the office. Were we something that needed to be kept hidden? A secret affair? Or even just a secret fling?

"I can agree with that," I said, some of my happiness fading, replaced with anxious questions.

But not all of my happiness. We dressed each other, tossing items to one another, sloppily buttoning each other's buttons, and having to go back and fix everything. Finally, we looked presentable. Ian pulled me to him one last time and kissed me deeply.

“Next time on a bed,” he said.

I smiled, grinning involuntarily. I stroked a finger down the side of his suit sleeve and walked to the door.

“Should I open the blinds?” I asked.

"I'll leave them closed," he said. "That's less suspicious. Every once in a while, I close them if I have a migraine and I don't want to be disturbed."

“I’m happy to be your migraine anytime,” I said.

He winked at me, returning my involuntary smile, and I left the room.

I didn't want to run into anyone in the hallway. I was sure I still had that post-sex glow. I felt buoyant, flushed with warmth. I strode nonchalantly through the halls and returned to my office without running into anyone. I shut the door behind me, closing my eyes and letting out a tiny, barely audible squeal.

“Wow,” I whispered, placing both my hands on my heart. “Just wow.”

I was useless for the next hour. I just sat in my chair, slowly coming down from the high of our lovemaking. At last, I got back to my workload, only distracted by the reality of what we'd just done every once in a while.

“Now what?” I murmured as I hung up the phone after a brief phone call. “He wants to do it in a bed. When?”

I could have done it again that night.

“He’s my boss,” I reminded myself. “This may end in nothing and leave me with an absolutely shattered heart.”

I held my phone in my hands, staring into space.

“I think he loves me,” I whispered. “He looks at me like…and the way he…”

Anyway, it was a risk I absolutely had to take. I would instead get my heart broken by him than look back for the rest of my life and wonder if it might have worked out if I'd given it a shot. At the end of the day, I lingered in my office. I wanted to run into Ian on my way out, but I was also nervous. Not about seeing him – I wasn't shy about any of it – but I felt sure I would smile helplessly or maybe even blush. What if someone else saw it?

After pacing until seven minutes after five o'clock, I exited my office. I strode down the hall, almost hurrying. When I reached the foyer, I saw the elevator doors closing on Ian. His eyes sparkled at me. I grinned, standing alone in the foyer, letting myself blush as much as I wanted to. By the time I got downstairs, Ian was gone. Part of me hoped he'd waited for me, but he may have been walking with Larry or someone like that. I went home, checking my phone at every stoplight, itching hoping he had texted me.

"Once is enough for one day," I told myself, looking up at a flock of birds flapping across the sky. "Technically, twice," I smirked.

When I got home, Potato was blinking at me in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Everything is perfect, Potato,” I sang to her, hanging up my purse. “Well, maybe not perfect, but bucket loads better than yesterday.”

I preheated the oven – a frozen pizza kind of night – and showered. I hated to wash Ian's sweat off my body. His kisses off my skin. I wanted to keep him close to me in any way I could. But obviously, I did wash myself off because of hygiene. Dressed in fleece pyjamas pants and a soft t-shirt, I popped the pizza into the oven and flopped down on the couch with my phone. I checked Ian's Instagram, my skin tingling with curiosity.

Nothing.

---