Page 9 of Beastly Brute

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VINCENT

Ifold and unfold the note for the hundredth time since I first read it last night.

Work harder. Just kidding. I was trying reverse psychology. Did it work?

She’s teasing me. And I like it.

Not only is Juniper intelligent and thoughtful, she’s playful. And even a little bit cunning. I can’t remember the last time I had a burger. Who has the time to work something like that off at the gym?

My schedule is very regimented. Every minute is accounted for. Five hours of sleep, ninety minutes in my personal gym, usually laps in the pool or kickboxing, then off to work. I give myself thirty minutes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, though most times I eat while working. I end the day with the news, a book, and a final look at the stock market.

The point is, it’s going to take me extra time to work off that burger. I already have one indulgence; my boysenberry cream scones. I don’t need more junk food to be addicted to. Juniper knew that, too. She knew I’d never choose a greasy meal, but also that I wouldn’t throw it away. She played me. And I can’t stop thinking about her.

In fact, I spent half the damn night fantasizing about a different kind of indulgence. Fuck, I’m sitting here at my desk, hard as a fucking rock as I run my fingers over Juniper’s note and remember my dream from last night.

I don’t even know what she looks like, but her voice… Jesus, I imagined her full, pouty lips as she told me to fuck her deeper, harder,goddamn, her whimpers fill my ears even now. I clench my fist and then drop it to my lap, groaning as I rub my painful erection.

It’s not even noon yet and here I am, tempted to whip my dick out and jack off at my desk. And over what? A voice? The rational side of me, the one usually in control, is ready to shut this shit down. I should fire Juniper and be done with it. She’s already wasted my precious time by taking up my thoughts and invading my sleep. I need both to perform my job well.

It was my rational side that forced me out of bed this morning after a restless night of confusing, arousing dreams. I went through my routine, hitting up the gym for a particularly brutal workout, then making myself a healthy smoothie. I decided to skip the scone this morning since I had about five thousand calories last night in that damn burger. The worst part is how much I loved it. I literally licked my fingers after.

As soon as I stepped into the office, however, a different part of my brain took over. It still hasn’t let up, and I’m not sure what to do about it. Instead of checking the stocks, researching leads, and getting lost in the numbers, I pulled out the carefully folded note Juniper wrote and read it over and over. I even… fuck. I even lifted it to my nose to try and get a whiff of her scent.

I’m crazy. And broken. She broke me.

Work has always been enough, but right now, I can’t find it in me to give a single fuck about the numbers. How can I focus on lines of data when Juniper is waltzing all over the city doing my bidding? Her and her feisty little attitude, hand-scrawled notes, and sweet, indulgent voice fill up my mind, leaving no room for all the shit I should be doing to get ready for the quarterly meetings.

My phone pings with a text, and I see Juniper’s name pop up on the screen. My palms turn sweaty and my heart stutters to a stop before working in triple time. When did I become a nervous teenager asking his crush to the prom? Not that I have a crush on Juniper. Or went to the prom, for that matter. Too many expectations, too much drama, and more importantly, I didn’t want to go. No one interested me then, andI haven’t had much interest in dating since.

Seeing my phone light up with a text from the enigmatic Juniper has some long forgotten part of me waking up. I’m… excited, I think. I usually get a jolt of energy at the beginning of a big project or new investment opportunity. What I’m feeling now, though, is a hundred times more powerful, and it’s all directed at one miss Juniper Leigh.

Lunch is outside your door. Don’t worry, I got a kale salad to make up for the burger. You have to admit, it was the best burger you ever had though, right?

I didn’t ask her for lunch, but I shouldn’t be surprised that she went out of her way to pick something up for me. And of course, she knew I devoured the burger and wasn’t happy about it. Juniper really is a great assistant. Maybe I should consider telling her that someday.

My fingers hover over my phone and a thin sheen of sweat dots my brow. What do I say back? I never thank people for performing their duties. That’s what their paycheck is for. But ignoring Juniper doesn’t sit right with me.

Before I can come up with a response, she texts me back.

I’ll take your silence as agreement. Even if you disagreed, I know you’d be lying.

A gruff sound rumbles out of my chest and my lips curl up at one end. Without thinking it all the way through, I type out a response.Confident, aren’t we, Ms. Leigh?

I can’t tear my eyes away from the three bubbles at the bottom of the screen. The rush of endorphins and adrenaline is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. What is this? Am I flirting? No, that’s ridiculous. I don’t know how to do that. Plus, I’m not the kind of man who would flirt with their assistant. Then again, I’m not the kind of man to have a fucking wet dream about my assistant’s voice, either. Like I said, she broke me.

Juniper’s answering text interrupts my spiral.Your non-response is very suspicious, Mr. Sloan. I think you’re addicted to the burgers now. Is that it? I can replace your salad with another Double Royal.

Another gravelly sound falls from my lips, and this time I recognize it as a chuckle.I can’t believe I ate something called the Double Royal,I reply.

A soft, tinkling laughter drifts through my thick office door. Holy shit, is she standing right there? Could I open the door and finally lay my eyes on the woman who has haunted my thoughts for far longer than I care to admit?

That’s not a no,she texts back. Another text pops up immediately. If you liked that one, you HAVE to try the Mashed ‘Tater Burger.

Sounds like a gut bomb,I say back for some reason. I shouldn’t be encouraging her, but every time I see those goddamn bubbles on the screen, I get a shot of dopamine. It’s not the burger I’m craving right now, but I can’t think about that.

Oh it definitely is. I won’t ruin the surprise, but let’s just say it’s spud-tacular.

I bark out a laugh and then cover it with a cough. Spud-tacular? It’s cheesy and so damn adorable I don’t know what to do about it. Ignore her? Send a work-related text? Jump out the window so I don’t have to deal with the urge to swing open the door and taste her lips?


Tags: Cameron Hart Erotic