by Sam Crescent
She groaned and he stopped talking.
“Why do you have to do this?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Do this! You know, be the good guy.” She whimpered. “You’re my boss and I don’t want to fall for you. I’m not allowed to fall for you.”
“Why not?”
“Because, that’s not what good PAs do. They’re always there and they get the job done. I always want to be the best at what I do and I can’t be the best if I’m sleeping with you.”
“You can be the best. Tell me, Bunny, us being together, did it really not mean anything?”
“You know it did. This is what makes this so hard.”
“There’s no one stopping us from being together.” He stepped away and started to run her a bath.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You do stink so I’m running you a bath. When I’m sick I always want a bath to make myself feel refreshed. I’m also going to prove that I can take care of you, and in doing so, that I don’t need you as my PA.”
“You’re firing me?”
“No, I’m going to prove to you that we can make this work.” He wasn’t going to let Bunny get away or give her any reason to push him aside. If he had to keep on chasing her he would, especially as he now knew she wanted him.
She was afraid and to a point he got it, but he wasn’t going to let her push them aside out of fear.
14
A soft noise woke Bunny up and she blinked a few times, realizing she was in bed as she stared at her ceiling.
Last night came rushing back to her in an array of pleasure and embarrassment. On one hand, Brice had told her he loved her, and she’d told him. And on the other hand, the wine and ice cream she’d had before he’d come over had come back up ... literally.
But he hadn’t run off scared and disgusted, and instead stayed and held her hair back as she embarrassed herself. And then he held her, bathed her, and they’d gotten into bed together.
He’d held her all night, and although they didn’t have sex, she’d wanted to desperately. But Bunny also realized that just having that personal contact with him, without the sexual interaction, was just as good.
Love.
The emotion moved between them, and he made it seem like everything would work out. And as Bunny started to let her walls down, let her emotions rise up, she realized this could work.
This would.
She was aware of the sound of pots and pans banging, then the scent of bacon filled the air. Her stomach grumbled and she pushed herself up, reaching over to the little chair by her nightstand and grabbing her robe.
She slipped it on, her hair having dried damp so it was a wavy mess around her head. She finger-combed it as she tightened the belt around her robe and headed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
Mixing with the smell of bacon was the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Her stomach grumbled and she felt her heart race. No one had ever made her breakfast before.
When she entered the kitchen, Bunny saw Brice standing by the stove, shirtless, his slacks slung low on his hips. She could hear the sound of crackling grease, and smirked.
“You know, that’s probably pretty dangerous,” she said and grinned wider when he looked over his shoulder at her. “I hate to see that defined chest of yours burned from bacon grease.”
Brice grinned wider and turned off the stove before facing her. “I’m all about getting some battle wounds as long as I get those kinds of smiles from you in the morning.”
She felt her face warm at his compliment.
He gestured for her to sit down and she took her place at the table. Bunny watched as he put some eggs on the plate, sprinkled some shredded cheese on top, then added a couple pieces of bacon and an English muffin with butter and jam.
Brice came over and set the plate in front of her, grabbed a cup and some orange juice, and filled her a glass. Without her asking, he poured her a cup of coffee and she immediately picked it up and took a long sip, closing her eyes and humming in pleasure.
She could get used to this.
“So good,” she mumbled and opened her eyes to see him watching her, this little smirk on his face.
And then he took a seat across for her, a couple pieces of toast in front of him, and a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand.
“You’re not eating?” Her stomach grumbled, the scent of food filling her nose.
“I’m not much of a breakfast type of guy.” He smiled.
“What type of guy are you?” She kept her gaze on his whole time. He didn’t speak for long moments as he stared at her, this small smile playing across his lips.
He set the coffee cup down and leaned forward, bracing his hands together on the table top. “I’m the type of man who is madly in love with you, Bunny. I’m the type of man who doesn’t care what anyone says or thinks, that when it concerns you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine.” He reached out and took her free hand in his grasp, stroking his thumb along the pulse point that beat rapidly in her wrist.
“Brice,” she whispered softly.
“I’m the type of man who knows that if you love me back that’s all I need in this world.”
God, her heart was racing fast, his words claiming her from the inside out. She’d never known a pleasure, a happiness as strong as she felt with Brice.
Bunny pushed her plate aside, bracing herself up slightly so she could lean across the table and press her mouth to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, nothing sexual about it. “I love you.” She whispered those words against his mouth and pulled back. “I’m done fighting. I’m done hiding how I feel. I love you, Brice.”
He grinned. “Good.” He cupped her chin with his finger and thumb and brought her mouth to his again.
She closed her eyes and let herself feel nothing but that kiss. “I look like a wreck,” she murmured against his mouth.
“You look beautiful,” he corrected. “So fucking perfect.” He pulled back and looked down at her lips, his gaze half-lidded as his pleasure poured from him.
Heat stole over her as her arousal rose. “How about we finish breakfast then take this to the bedroom?”
A low rumble of need left him and her heart jumped to her throat.
“Suddenly I’m starting to become a breakfast man, baby.”
Before she knew what was happening, Brice pulled back and had her in his arms. He kissed her breathless, then bent at the knees and lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder and swatting her playfully on the ass. Although she felt anything but playful. She felt downright erotic.
“Yeah, I’m a real fucking breakfast man now.”
15
Brice had won the first battle but he had yet to win the war when it came to Bunny. She’d admitted to loving him, which was a victory, but she had also put certain terms and conditions on their relationship.
They couldn’t be anything more than boss and PA at work. He didn’t like it. He spent all day watching her, wanting nothing more than to have her come into his office so he could have her sit in his lap.
He had all kinds of dirty thoughts he wished to explore with her. Plenty of them involved her, his desk, and being naked. But he couldn’t have everything.
She wouldn’t allow him to drive her home. For that, he wasn’t happy, not even a little bit. He was pissed off. He wanted to pick her up, or at the very least drive her to work. They were spending the nights together, why not the mornings? It was a stupid rule, but one he’d decided not to cross. He knew when to pick his battles and right now wasn’t it.
Then of course, they couldn’t be seen out in public close to where they worked in case of colleagues.
Her paranoia was a little over the top but he had found he would do anything for her. Even putting himself through the constant torture of seeing her in those sexy little skirts that showed way too much leg, and molded to the curves of her ass.
His need for her didn’t diminish.
The spa
rk was always there.
Even now, when he had to wonder if she was a little ashamed of them, she turned toward him, and her smile was all for him, her gaze on him as the person she was speaking to finally left for the day.
She didn’t go back to her desk this time; she came to his office. He didn’t even try to look busy. There was no point. She’d already caught him watching her, and she was a beautiful sight.
“You see something you like?” she asked, closing the door behind her.
“More than like.”
She pushed some hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to head on out. Do you want Chinese?”
“I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
“Brice…”
“I’m following every single one of your demands. I don’t give anyone the chance to gossip about us. I don’t know what your obsession is when it comes to what other people think.”
“You don’t get it and why would you? You’re the boss.”
“Then, as your boss, why don’t you enlighten me?” he asked.
“Why?”
“I’m your boss. I have this need to know everything and not knowing pisses me off.”
Her eyes widened. “Okay, so you want to know.”
He got up and rounded the desk so he was leaning against it, folding his arms. “Enlighten me seeing as I can’t see the problem.”
She rubbed her hands down her skirt. “We don’t know how long this thing between us is going to last.”
“What?”
“What if it’s something fleeting? What if you find someone else? I’d be alone and I could be out of a job. Who would hire me if they knew I slept with the boss?”
He held his hand up. “Hold up a second. You’re telling me that out of everything that could happen, you’re going to blame me for us not potentially working?”
“It’s not supposed to be a bad thing. I mean—” She closed her eyes. “I’m saying this all wrong.”
“Well you better say it the right way because how you make it sound, I’m a fickle guy who’ll move onto the next piece of ass I want. You think that’s what this is about?”
She shrugged.
He looked at the floor. “I don’t know if this is some fucking joke right now.”
“Brice—”
“No, don’t Brice me. Don’t try to pacify me. I get it. You’re a damn good PA. One of the best I’ve ever had and I know you want more out of life than to just be my fucking PA, but wow, what a way to hit below the belt.”
“I know it sounds bad but it’s not meant that way.”
He laughed. “You’re being serious right now.” He stood up. “You’ve just told me that the reason we’re supposed to stay a secret is because I may move on. I may find someone else that is better than you. I’ll fire you because I can’t stand to have an ex around. How else am I supposed to take it? You know what, you’ve killed our relationship even before it has started. I don’t get it.” He cut her off from answering. “Leave.”
“Brice, I don’t mean anything…”
“No. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to look at you right now. I’ve never given you any indication that I’ll walk away. I want you, Bunny. Not some title or some pussy that you think I couldn’t have. I wanted you because I like you, and it’s not for anything other than wanting to be with you.” He shook his head.
Looking up, he saw tears were in her eyes.
“I don’t know what’s just happened.”
“You should go,” he said.
“You’re firing me?”
“No. I’m not firing you, but you need to leave my office.” He walked back toward his desk. He had already made reservations, so he picked up his phone and canceled them.
“Why did you cancel your dinner reservation?” she said.
He looked up at her.
She still hadn’t left.
Brice wasn’t used to being hurt. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. It was all a little too new and a little too raw.
“I don’t want to have dinner with you and I’d hoped to surprise you with something. Right now, I don’t even want to look at you.”
“Brice?”
“Just go.” The pain was thick in him. He heard it in his voice.
He didn’t allow her tears to affect him. He couldn’t.
She opened his office door and he didn’t watch her leave.
Sitting at his desk, he stared at the file in front of him, not seeing anything.
What the fuck had just happened?
16
Bunny knew she’d screwed up, knew she’d offended and hurt Brice. But the truth was, she was guarding herself, protecting her heart.
It didn’t matter that she loved him and he loved her. All she could see, all she could think about, was the “what ifs.”
She was at the very bottom of the social totem pole. He was wealthy, she wasn’t. The women that she knew flocked around him were gorgeous, socialites.
Bunny was the complete opposite in every single way. She wasn’t svelte, didn’t have big perfect breasts, a tiny tucked-in waist, or family money behind her.
No, she had herself, her low-budget apartment, and lived paycheck to paycheck. And all she could think about when she pictured her and Brice together was that eventually he’d see that, see how different she was from him, from the circle he ran in.
All she could see was meeting his family and them disapproving, with Brice being put in a hard spot because he didn’t know whether to keep her around or to placate his family and make them happy.
And so she’d put that wall back up, and all but told him she didn’t think they’d work out, that this wouldn’t last. And Bunny felt like shit for making him feel that way. She felt like shit for seeing the hurt on his face, hearing it in his voice.
She’d never seen Brice like that in the two years she’d worked for him, but she had yesterday, and it had been because of her.
Bunny sat at the little bistro table in the café, her hand wrapped around her mug, the tea inside warming her palm through the ceramic. She was lost in her thoughts, in what she was going to do.
Since she’d left the office yesterday, all she’d been able to do, think about, was how to make this right. He’d been honest with her, told her what he saw, how he felt, yet she kept that wall up even though she wanted it down. She kept him at a distance, even though the only thing she wanted was to bring him closer.
But how could she do that? How could Bunny open up her heart fully, not let fear of being hurt take control?
How could she confess that all to Brice? He’d been angry, hurt, and that pain had resonated deep within him. She’d heard it in his voice, felt it in the way it had changed the air ... thickened it, chilled it.
What Bunny did know was not being with Brice made her feel empty, pain. She felt a tightening in her chest, pressure on her shoulders. It was the complete opposite of how he made her feel, and she hated that, loathed it.
She wanted the feeling of being whole back, the one she only felt when she was with Brice. Bunny brought her tea to her mouth and took a long drink, staring out the storefront at the people walking past the buildings, shopping bags in hand. City life was so full of … life.
Yeah, she knew what she had to do.
She knew what she needed to do.
Go to Brice and make things right.
Brice’s penthouse was something dreams are made of, with wealth and security, dignity and privilege. But he worked hard for what he got. His family might have money, but she knew he’d worked his ass off for what he had.
As she walked toward the elevator, she knew Brice was aware she was coming, because she’d had to tell the doorman her name before he’d even let her enter.
Once in the elevator, she pushed the button to the very top floor, reaching behind her and curling her hands around the banister as she watched the doors. All she felt was her nerves rising.
She was scared. Not knowing how this would go, how it wo
uld end, scared the fuck out of her. Had she truly ruined things for good this time?
God, I hope not.
Bunny waited for the elevator to finish ascending, and as she stood there, she played the moment of facing him out in her head over and over again. But none of them would be her reality. Nothing she imagined could accurately predict Brice’s reaction.
The door dinged before opening, and she stepped out. He had the entire top floor, no other doors but the one down the long, ornate hallway.
She took the numerous steps on the marbled, polished floor, heard her heart beating in her ears, felt it in the base of her throat. It was only when she stopped in front of his door that she felt herself clamming up. The fear of rejection, not because things didn’t work out, but because of her own doing, was a heavy stone in the pit of her belly.
Everything could very well be ruined.
Everything.
She lifted her hand to knock, but before her knuckles made contact, the door opened. And there stood Brice, his expression hard to read, maybe even harder than hers probably was.
“Brice,” she said on a whisper. Long moments passed before she said anything else.
Fear was a strong bitch.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, those words just a breath out of her. “I’m afraid. I was afraid.” And that was all she could say. It was up to him now.
17
Brice knew he wasn’t any saint. He’d been with a lot of women. Most of the time from them throwing themselves at him. He never made any promises he didn’t intend to keep and yet the first woman he could see himself settling down with, starting a life, and she just wanted to throw him away because it was too much.
He grabbed a beer from his fridge, pulling off the top and walking across his apartment floor toward the full-length windows, looking out over the city.
Bunny was out there and he felt like a fucking idiot. Instead of standing and fighting for her, he’d gotten angry and hurt. He’d never been hurt by another person in a long time, and then it wasn’t even this kind of hurt.