And he gave me the most intoxicating, irresistible smile.
I don’t remember what I was thinking as he pushed me back into the bathroom and locked the door. I probably wasn’t thinking with anything other than my lady-parts. But he tore down my panties, bent me over the sink counter, and pounded me against the expensive white marble so thoroughly that I had to bite down on one of the lush hand towels to keep the entire restaurant from hearing my animal-like screams. And after I had come twice, August ripped off the condom, pushed me down to my knees, and came down my throat for what felt like ages.
“Good girl,” he purred down at me with lidded eyes. “You’ve got a bright future at the foundation.”
On Wednesday, Michael invited the entire finance team out for happy hour drinks at the bar. It was nice getting to know some other employees that I had never really met beyond basic introductions. And after everyone else had left, Michael and I stayed and shared three more drinks together. There wasn’t any awkwardness at all; we were just enjoying each other’s company. He was in the middle of telling me a long football story when we walked out of the restaurant, so I followed him two blocks to his building so he could finish it.
And then I ended up in his apartment, letting him have his way with my ass all by himself.
The three of us never discussed how we were breaking our decision by continuing to hook up. None of us cared. We were too into each other to allow it to stop. It was like an unspoken agreement. One last time, that turned into one more last time, and thenanotherlast time, until two weeks had passed and we were doing it regularly again without a concern in the world.
That all changed when Sandra Trout came into the office on Friday.
It had been three weeks since Allison had retired, and we were coming up on our November grant cycle. It was a busy time of the year for the foundation, since people tended to increase their charitable donations around the holidays. I was coming into work early and leaving late most days.
Sandra strode into the office that Friday like she owned the place. In other words, her usual modus operandi. I heard her voice down the hall, asking to speak with Allison.
“Allison retired,” Michael told her apologetically. “The woman who took over her duties can help you, and if not, then I’m sure I can assist in whatever you need.”
“Let me see her replacement,” Sandra demanded.
“Of course. Right this way…”
I got up and smoothed out my blouse, then went out into the hall to meet her. I mentally prepared myself to remain calm and not call Sandra a blood-sucking wealth vampire.
But Michael and Sandra weren’t alone. There was another man walking behind them, holding a tablet in the crook of his arm. His hair was somewhere between reddish and strawberry blond, and a healthy smattering of freckles dotted a supermodel-like face. He looked exactly the way I had seen him the previous Friday, when I was wearing a schoolgirl outfit and he was roleplaying as a stern teacher.
Kai?
44
Ginny
Have you ever been watching a TV show, and suddenly there’s a guest star in an episode that you know from another show? And for a few seconds, your brain just sort ofbreaksbecause the two contexts are momentarily incompatible?
That’s how I felt when I saw Kai-the-anal-sherpa standing in the hall outside my office. Next to Sandra Trout.
Next to Michael, the other man who I’m currently sleeping with.
Kai had a similar reaction when he saw me. It took a second or two of staring at me before his jaw dropped. Then he took a small step back, like he was about to turn around and run away as fast as he could.
“Oh,” Sandra said when she saw me. “It’s the intern who runs errands on her lunch break. You’re not Allison’s replacement, are you?”
Normally, the insult—bothinsults—would have sent me into a fit of rage. But I was still too shell-shocked from seeing Kai to react.
“Ms. Hanover is our grants administrator, not an intern,” Michael corrected. “She took over Allison’s other duties because she’s incredibly competent. You’re in good hands with her, I promise.”
“Very well.” Sandra looked skeptical, but gave it about as much attention as one might give a fruit fly. “My assistant and I are here to go over some new grant requests with you.”
I turned to Kai and prayed that I wasn’t blushing. “Hi, I’m Ginny Hanover.”
“Kai Acosta,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you.” His palm was warm as I shook his hand. The same hand that was squeezing my breast desperately last Friday.
“I’m surprised we haven’t met you before,” I said casually. “Considering how valuable a donor Mrs. Trout is.”
“He used to accompany me everywhere,” Sandra complained with barely-hidden contempt. “But he’s been taking alotof personal time lately. One would expect sick time to be used whenyouare sick, and not anyone in your family tree.”
Kai’s face remained perfectly emotionless during this. Like he was used to it.