playful, and he loved it! He’d had trouble resisting her before, when she was all “yes, sir” and “no, sir.” Tonight’s sleeping arrangements loomed large in his mind.
He abruptly sobered, realizing that half his brain had traveled straight south, and he was struggling to hold onto the other half. “Megan,” he said softly. “Are you okay with this? Are you okay with us being…friends?”
She blinked, and her expression softened. Not in the way of a woman yielding, but in the way of a long time friend struggling to hold off hysterical laughter. “Wyatt, we’ve been friends for years now. I’ve taken care of your dry cleaning, helped you bus tables and fix plumbing at the other hotels. You’ve even force fed me chicken soup when I had that miserable cold last year.”
He blinked. “But you kept calling me ‘sir’ the whole time. And besides, you were practically hallucinating. I didn’t think you remembered.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t forget things like that.”
Like what? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but this whole conversation made him uncomfortable. Over the past few years, she’d become an integral part of his business. He knew how rare good assistants were. And good partners. Last night’s work frenzy would be impossible with anyone else. Not to mention how much of his multi-million dollar corporation would fall apart if she left her job for whatever reason.
He couldn’t risk screwing that up. Office romances never worked, and there was too much at stake for him to give in to his lust for her. No one screwed the golden goose, and he’d be damned if he did it. The fact that he’d been having erotic dreams about her was a flaw in his character that would never, ever be revealed. It was a bleed-through to the personal side of life that he couldn’t afford to let go any further. Sadly, the logical side of his brain was fast losing ground to the lustful, lonely side of him. God, what he wouldn’t give to have her in his bed for real!
He didn’t know what to do about that. So rather than face it, he ran directly to the lesser of his secrets. “A comic book store,” he said. “I’d, um, love to check out…” He felt his face heat.
She smiled. “You got it. Give me a moment, and I’ll find directions to them both.”
He nodded, grateful to her for shifting into the logistical details. “And a restaurant too. A nice one. My treat.”
“Damn straight it is,” she said as she grinned at him. “On my off days, the gentleman always pays.”
…
Megan was in beading heaven. Bins and bins of gorgeous beads. The possibilities were endless. Usually, she’d be wrist deep and all but quivering with the project possibilities.
Instead, at least half her attention was on her boss. They’d gone to the comic book shop first because that was the way the logistics worked best. And wasn’t that adorable that he thought she didn’t know he read comics? Please. Like she hadn’t seen the issues tucked away in his briefcase. There were always at least three in there, and once she’d caught sight of a couple graphic novels as well.
So he was a superhero fan. Who wasn’t? And now he was plopped in a chair with the latest issue of Thor open on his lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him chuckle and his large hands stretch slightly on the issue before settling back into a more relaxed position. His shoulders, his face, even the way he sat in the too tiny chair seemed to settle more deeply into the world. Just like a kid in his favorite place, doing his favorite thing.
She smiled, her heart twisting inside her. No wonder she was dreaming about him. No wonder he appeared as a superhero in her thoughts. No wonder he…
Wait. What?
Holy crap. She’d been dreaming about Wyatt.
All those amazing erotic dreams with her own mysterious superhero—those had been about Wyatt. Wyatt with his sculpted torso, his ripped abs, and…and about fifteen inches more in height. She
He abruptly sobered, realizing that half his brain had traveled straight south, and he was struggling to hold onto the other half. “Megan,” he said softly. “Are you okay with this? Are you okay with us being…friends?”
She blinked, and her expression softened. Not in the way of a woman yielding, but in the way of a long time friend struggling to hold off hysterical laughter. “Wyatt, we’ve been friends for years now. I’ve taken care of your dry cleaning, helped you bus tables and fix plumbing at the other hotels. You’ve even force fed me chicken soup when I had that miserable cold last year.”
He blinked. “But you kept calling me ‘sir’ the whole time. And besides, you were practically hallucinating. I didn’t think you remembered.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t forget things like that.”
Like what? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but this whole conversation made him uncomfortable. Over the past few years, she’d become an integral part of his business. He knew how rare good assistants were. And good partners. Last night’s work frenzy would be impossible with anyone else. Not to mention how much of his multi-million dollar corporation would fall apart if she left her job for whatever reason.
He couldn’t risk screwing that up. Office romances never worked, and there was too much at stake for him to give in to his lust for her. No one screwed the golden goose, and he’d be damned if he did it. The fact that he’d been having erotic dreams about her was a flaw in his character that would never, ever be revealed. It was a bleed-through to the personal side of life that he couldn’t afford to let go any further. Sadly, the logical side of his brain was fast losing ground to the lustful, lonely side of him. God, what he wouldn’t give to have her in his bed for real!
He didn’t know what to do about that. So rather than face it, he ran directly to the lesser of his secrets. “A comic book store,” he said. “I’d, um, love to check out…” He felt his face heat.
She smiled. “You got it. Give me a moment, and I’ll find directions to them both.”
He nodded, grateful to her for shifting into the logistical details. “And a restaurant too. A nice one. My treat.”
“Damn straight it is,” she said as she grinned at him. “On my off days, the gentleman always pays.”
…
Megan was in beading heaven. Bins and bins of gorgeous beads. The possibilities were endless. Usually, she’d be wrist deep and all but quivering with the project possibilities.
Instead, at least half her attention was on her boss. They’d gone to the comic book shop first because that was the way the logistics worked best. And wasn’t that adorable that he thought she didn’t know he read comics? Please. Like she hadn’t seen the issues tucked away in his briefcase. There were always at least three in there, and once she’d caught sight of a couple graphic novels as well.
So he was a superhero fan. Who wasn’t? And now he was plopped in a chair with the latest issue of Thor open on his lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him chuckle and his large hands stretch slightly on the issue before settling back into a more relaxed position. His shoulders, his face, even the way he sat in the too tiny chair seemed to settle more deeply into the world. Just like a kid in his favorite place, doing his favorite thing.
She smiled, her heart twisting inside her. No wonder she was dreaming about him. No wonder he appeared as a superhero in her thoughts. No wonder he…
Wait. What?
Holy crap. She’d been dreaming about Wyatt.
All those amazing erotic dreams with her own mysterious superhero—those had been about Wyatt. Wyatt with his sculpted torso, his ripped abs, and…and about fifteen inches more in height. She
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