Magnificent Bastard by Lili Valente Page A

short-term relationship, keeping my emotional investment low in order to avoid getting hurt. I might not have wanted to face it, but I realized that particular truth a long time ago. I’m also fully aware of the fact that Penny has come to fill the female friendship and late night couch-chat hole that Rachael left behind.
    What I didn’t realize until yesterday, however, is how flirtatious my relationship with Penny had become.
    At five a.m., having given up on sleep, I’m at my computer combing through our correspondence, trying to pinpoint the moment when our friendship took a turn. I isolate several conversations about six months into our professional relationship that seem to be the tipping point, but it’s hard to tell which of us was the driving force. There are a few teasing remarks on Penny’s side and some innuendo-laced jokes on mine, but from there things seem to flow organically into something else.
    Something flirtatious and surprisingly…intimate.
    If I didn’t know for a fact that these messages were between an employer and his assistant, they could easily be read as the sexy banter of a couple. They’re practically foreplay. My hard-on for Penny has been staring me in the face from a computer screen for months and I had no idea that somewhere in my subconscious I’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like to have her.
    I’m not a sex addict—I don’t engage in destructive sexual behavior or lose interest in a woman once the thrill of the chase is over—but there are clearly things going on in my psyche that I’m not aware of.
    And I don’t like that. Not one fucking bit.
    The part of me that values reason, order, and professionalism demands that I call this whole thing off—the intervention, the fuck buddy plan, the texting, the flirting, seeing Penny in person, all of it. If she’s going to remain my employee, then we need a swift and immediate return to the friendly, but impersonal dynamic we had when we first started working together.
    My dick, however, has enjoyed the walk down memory lane and is more ready to service Penny than ever.
    The Incredible Bulk remains semi-erect all morning and when I see Penny standing on the Long Island Railroad platform, the last thing I want to do is tell her she’s going this alone. She’s wearing one of her new dresses—a knee-length brown spandex number with ruffled layers around the hem that emphasizes her curves, flashy gold earrings, and gold sandals that display her sexy little toes—and looks good enough to eat.
    I’m working up a full-fledged hard-on even before I get close enough to see the gloss on her lips or smell the addictive scent of her perfume. The moment that light, lemon, sugar, and sea salt smell hits my nose I’m a goner.
    “Hey, you made it!” She lifts an awkward hand, the anxiety in the gesture making it clear she isn’t sure what verdict I came to overnight.
    Under normal circumstances, I would want to allay her fears as soon as possible, but thanks to Penny’s “time to think” mandate…I’ve had time to think. And I haven’t enjoyed it or the way it’s complicated what should have been a combustible, no-strings-attached fuck.
    So instead of leaning down to whisper that I hope she isn’t wearing her favorite panties because I plan to rip them off of her as soon as we reach our private car, I greet her with a cool nod and motion toward the front of the train. “We’re one down from the dining car.”
    “Oh, okay.” She falls in beside me, dragging her roller suitcase behind her. “Good morning.”
    “For a few more minutes anyway.”
    She clears her throat. “Good for a few more minutes? Or morning for a few more minutes?”
    I smile, but keep my attention fixed on the platform ahead. “Morning for a few more minutes. Then it will be afternoon and we’ll be cleared to have a glass of champagne. A bottle comes complimentary with the private car.”
    “You shouldn’t have,” she says, her voice