My Weakness

by Alison Mello

  “Oh my god!” The adrenaline pulsing through my veins made me lightheaded. I couldn’t quite work out if it was shock or nerves.

  “Good morning,” he said, giving me a warm smile.

  “Morning. You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think anyone was in yet.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  The tension between us was impossible to ignore. I felt as if I could reach out and strum it like a strained elastic band. Every passing second heightened the sizzling atmosphere to new levels. I didn’t know what to do except escape this awkward situation, so I offered him a cup of coffee.

  “That would be lovely, thank you.” As he moved behind me, en-route to his office, he whispered in my ear, “And I would love to be your God.”

  Shock rendered me motionless for several seconds. By the time I whipped around to face him, he was already closing his office door. I didn’t imagine that, did I? Maybe I wasn’t reading too much into this after all.

  Past my desk was a small corridor leading to the small kitchen. In a complete daze, I wandered down and made his coffee. As I raced through all the recent happenings, I realised with a heart-warming swell he was definitely hitting on me. He had to be.

  I took his coffee to him, surprised to see we were still on our own. My gut began to churn as I wondered exactly why that was.

  “Thank you.” He smiled and cleared his throat. “Just you and me today, Kyra.”

  My heart stopped dead, anticipation lodging in my throat. “Oh. Okay. I haven’t been informed of anything to alter the movements diary.”

  “Andrews and Chapman have a delayed flight back from New York—no doubt you will have an email from them both. Michaels is off sick and Harris is on holiday as you know. Nicholls, Tate, and Atkins are in the meeting in Devon with Mr. Collins. That leaves just me. And you.”

  “Okay.” I thought over my options for a split second before a naughty thought skimmed its way past my lips. “I guess I’m all yours, then.”

  He raised his eyebrows, seemingly stunned by my response. I grasped my opportunity with both hands, and left him to chew over it as I sashayed my way out of his office.

  Two can play that game, mate. You’re not catching me off guard anymore and enjoying it.

  He remained in his office for the rest of the morning, only appearing as the clock struck one p.m.—lunchtime. As I gathered my bag, ready to head out, he strode towards me, the confidence in his advance making my imagination run riot once again.

  “Chicken tikka?”

  I stared back dumbfounded, my image of him grabbing my face and kissing me bursting like a balloon under a pin.

  “The sandwich shop. That is where you were going, right?”

  I nodded, words forming into sentences in my mind but still not reaching my voice box.

  “Well, I’m going there, so do you want me to get yours for you?”

  “Um okay, thanks.” I started fishing around in my bag for my purse, grateful for any chance to distract myself from my thoughts.

  “I think I can afford to buy you a sandwich, Kyra.”

  I collapsed in my chair, my brows furrowing together. He was, without doubt, hitting on me. He had to be. But then I hadn’t seen him around other women so maybe this was just him. Fifteen minutes later, when he came back with my sandwich, I still sat there trying to work out what the hell was going on.

  I smiled and gave him my thanks as I took my lunch from him. He disappeared back inside his office, leaving me wondering about his actions once again. I headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and help calm my thoughts. Unfortunately, daydreams of me spread over his desk took control as I stirred the milk in—and kept on stirring.

  “Have you stirred that enough?”

  I shrieked in surprise, jumped, and splashed tea all over the worktop as I dropped the spoon with a clatter. My cheeks flamed up in an instant under his radiating gaze. It suddenly struck me I had no way out of here—he was stood in the doorway, the only way in and out. I suddenly felt like an antelope cornered by a lion.

  “Daydreaming again?”

  I nodded.

  He stepped towards me and lowered his voice. “You really need to indulge me with your daydreams, Kyra. I’m curious.”

  “Oh, they’re nothing. Just wondering what will happen in the soaps and stuff on TV.”

  “Ahh.” He took another step towards me, the gap between us now barely a couple of feet. “And there was me hoping they might have been about me.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  A beaming smile spread over his face, and he closed the gap between us completely. I didn’t know where to look or what to say.

  His attention fell to my mug. “Can I try your tea? Seeing as you always make me coffee?”

  I nodded. “But you never ask for tea.”

  “Well, I do like a bit of variety now and again.”

  My heart rate tripled. He reached past me, brushing my arms as he did so. A breath caught in my throat as crippling tingles nearly brought me to my knees. His eyes met mine—nothing but glittering gems of mischief.

  He sipped my tea and gave a small groan. “Good tea. Is everything you make this good?”

  “What…what do you mean?” My mind now raced in time with my heartbeat. Where was this going? Was he going to kiss me? Or was he just enjoying seeing me squirm?

  “Anything.” He shrugged his shoulders, trailing his tongue over his bottom lip. “Drinks, food, other things…”

  Before I could even register his words, the office door slammed shut, alerting us to someone’s presence. The building tension melted like an ice cube in hot water. I scurried my way around him to see who the visitor was. It was one of the managers looking for Mr. Collins. Explaining the situation whilst quietly thankful for their intervention, I flopped down in my chair as they left.

  Where the hell had that been going? Paul appeared in his office doorway as the door clicked shut behind the manager. “Can I talk to you please?”

  I knew for sure I wasn’t imagining things now.

  I stood up and edged my way through his door, shutting it behind me. I didn’t know why, considering no one else was in. Just a habit, I think, from hearing the dreaded can we talk sentence.

  When I turned around, his handsome face was millimetres from mine. I jumped back, finding the solid wall behind me. He stared straight through me, boring a hole through any weak defences I might have had against him.

  “Paul—”

  He grabbed my waist and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me with such hunger it took my breath away. He tickled my lips with his tongue, and when I yielded to his wants, he explored me with raging desire. Passion and urgency took hold of us both, spurring us into lust-fuelled action. His hands wandered over my body and I yanked his shirt free, desperate to feel his smooth skin.

  Needing air, I broke our brief embrace, managing to whisper, “What the hell?”

  “I’m sorry…did I read you wrong?”

  I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my swollen lips. “No.”

  Chapter Three

  Several minutes later, we came up for air, both of us panting. I was nothing short of a hot, flustered mess after groping my way across his delicious torso. Being able to finally touch him achieved nothing but to further my need for him. Naked images of him flooded my mind, sending my imagination into overdrive.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, a stupid grin on my face.

  He pecked my lips before rearranging his shirt. Once he’d finished, he stood, staring at me, a smile folding over his lips.

  I pushed myself away from the wall, smoothing down my own clothes. “What the hell was that?”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself any longer.”

  Those simple words sent my head into a complete spin. It seemed so…surreal to hear those words coming from him, from my boss. I faltered, not really knowing what to say back to that.

  “I’m guessing by the
fact you didn’t slap me, you’re glad I couldn’t?” he said.

  That I could definitely answer. “You have no idea.”

  “Can I take you out to dinner?”

  “Is that just a formality before the inevitable?”

  In mock horror, he slapped a hand over his chest. “I can behave for however long is required.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “That sounds like a challenge to me, Miss Wilson.”

  “Maybe it is,” I said, giving him a cheeky wink.

  “Friday night. After all, we don’t want you tired for work the next day, do we?”

  I flashed him my best smile. “No, not at all.”

  ***

  By the end of the week, the atmosphere between us evolved into nothing short of animalistic lust, a primitive need to satisfy each other’s cravings.

  Paul handed me work at any given opportunity, stroking my fingers as he passed it over. Each piece I handed back would result in a closed door, stolen kisses, and disturbed clothes. I had a feeling dessert on Friday night would not consist of food—unless the food was on one of us.

  The burning desire smouldering deep inside me was something I’d never harboured for anyone else. Something about him bewitched me, lost me in a world of insatiable daydreams, made me question the true depths of myself.

  I wasn’t really the relationship type of girl. Sleeping around wasn’t my thing either, just the odd one-night stand here and there. My dating history was sporadic at best and not what you would classify as experienced. My longest relationship had lasted a mere six months before I chucked the poor guy when he confessed his love for me. On the surface, commitment scared me, and the second I heard the dreaded ‘L’ word, I would run for the hills, leaving them stood balking in my dust.

  Yet Paul captured my attention to an extent I never knew a man could. I wanted him for more than one night, but the alternative option to that scared me. To bare my soul to someone, to bond myself to them and only them…it made me shudder. But a part of me, deep down, craved that stability—I just chose to ignore it.

  I finished work on Friday, my nerves a bouncing ball of excitement and curiosity. I didn’t need any drugs to get high, I just needed him.

  As I took the last piece of work into his office, I bent a little lower than necessary, giving him the perfect view of my cleavage.

  He raised an eyebrow and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Anybody would think you were trying to seduce me, Miss Wilson.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not normally, no. However, I do recall you set me a challenge and I intend to complete it.”

  I settled a hand on my breast, fiddling with the ends of my hair. “We’ll see about that.”

  ***

  I chose a strapless, black bodycon dress for my hot date. Slipping on a pair of nude stockings and some slinky black heels, I made final adjustments to my hair and makeup before his timely knock at the door.

  Dressed in a soft lemon-coloured shirt and a pair of jet black trousers, he looked every inch the crisp, confident man I expected.

  “Wow,” he said. “You scrub up well.” He held his hand out, flashing me a dazzling smile.

  I giggled as I took his hand. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  He played the gentleman part and opened the car door for me. Once inside his sleek BMW, the tension between us dissolved when our eyes met. We both indulged in a nervous giggle before settling into small talk on the way to the restaurant.

  The conversation ended with him asking about my best friend, Molly, who also worked at the same company. She would go berserk over this news, but at the moment she was on a plane on her way back from Hawaii.

  He was taking me to a small Indian restaurant about thirty minutes away. They served the best prawn masala I’d ever tasted and I couldn’t wait to taste it again. Being all traditional décor, complete with old paintings on the wall and Indian music playing in the background, it was a fantastic setting.

  As we walked inside, a waiter led us to our table in the far corner of the small room. Two pink candles danced their flames on every table, a cosy, romantic vibe accompanying the dimmed lights.

  Several minutes later, food and drinks were ordered and we were left to our own world once more. Paul raised an eyebrow as I ordered my favourite meal, which in comparison to his Vindaloo, was rather plain.

  “I don’t like ordering stuff I might not like, wasting money and the chance of a good meal.”

  He laughed. “I like your logic. But I love spicy food and see it as a challenge.”

  I ran my tongue over my lips. “Is it just food you like spicy?”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “I am completing that challenge this evening, Miss Wilson.”

  I reached for my drink and wrapped my tongue around the straw with deliberate, slow precision. His eyes darkened, glued to the sight of me stroking and flicking the end of my new toy.

  Playing the innocent card, I threw him off track. “So, what happens at work now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, isn’t this kind of a bit weird? You are my boss.”

  He grinned, leaning across the table as he dropped his voice. “From Monday to Friday, eight thirty to four, yes, I am. Outside of those hours, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

  I dropped the straw and traced my index finger over my bottom lip. “That’s a dangerous statement to make to a woman like me.”

  He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “That sounds interesting.”

  “On a serious note, what happens come Monday morning? Isn’t it going to be a bit weird? I’ve been paranoid enough all week that people have noticed something.”

  “I’m a director, Kyra. No one is going to challenge me except the other directors or Mr. Collins himself. Stop worrying.”

  “But isn’t it frowned upon for employees to date?”

  “It is advised against.”

  “And you’re my boss, which makes it worse.”

  “Stop worrying. You’re not going to get into any trouble. Just relax and enjoy it, okay?”

  I nodded, taking my time to sip my drink through my straw. Knowing full well his gaze was again fixed on my lips, I entertained the moment for as long as I could.

  Our starters arrived, dissolving the building atmosphere like an antacid in a glass of water. After a few seconds to settle into our delicious dishes passed, the dreaded interview process began.

  “So, tell me about your hobbies,” he said.

  “Well, I like reading quite a lot. I keep snakes. I used to horse ride but haven’t done that for a long time. I’m also doing a psychology degree so that takes up a lot of my spare time.”

  I took a mouthful of my food and nearly died on the spot from how beautiful it was. The creamy sauce blanketed my tongue with just a hint of coconut. He took a mouthful of his volcano on a plate and never even flinched.

  “You keep snakes?”

  I laughed. “Why does everyone always pick up on that bit?”

  “You just don’t look like the kind of woman to keep snakes.”

  “And what am I supposed to look like?”

  He laughed and evaded the question. “So what snakes have you got?”

  “A Burmese, four boas, and two kings.”

  He stopped eating for a moment, his jaw dropping wide open. “You’ve got a Burmese python?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Aren’t they big?”

  “Medium sized really. He’s a pussycat. He’s called Fluffy.”

  He almost choked on his food, which had me in stitches. “Fluffy? Are you being serious?”

  I nodded. “Irony at its best.”

  “So why no more horse riding?”

  I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to touch on this too much. “Bad accident. I will do it again one day but not yet.”

  I revelled in the perfect food, my mind wandering, heading down roads of his tight abs just across th
e table, just underneath that shirt…

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I hesitated for a second, trying to keep my composure. “Some idiot thought it would be funny to beep his horn right behind me whilst I was riding on the road. My horse bolted and ran across the path of an oncoming lorry. The lorry clipped his back end and sent us flying into a dyke. Apparently, I’m lucky to be alive.”

  I said it as casually as I could to keep a lid on my emotions. The horse involved, Scotch, I bred myself from my father’s favourite mare before he died. Scotch and I achieved a lot in the eight years we had with each other. Five years had now passed and I still ached for him every day.

  “Crikey. That sounds awful. What happened to you? And the guy who caused it?”

  “He was sent down for five years. It was no justice for me though. He’d killed my best friend through some stupid prank of wanting to show off in front of his mates. I had a broken arm, a broken hip, two broken legs, a punctured lung, a ruptured spleen, shattered ankles, and a fractured skull. I was in the hospital for months and out of work for a year.”

  “That’s pretty bad. I’m sorry to hear that. You’re okay now though?”

  I nodded, smiling as I delved into my food.

  Silence fell over us as we both cleared our plates. I tried to push thoughts of Scotch to the back of my mind but it never worked—he was always there.

  After the waiter took our empty plates, he picked the conversation back up.

  “So, the psychology degree. What’s that about?”

  I smiled, my hopes and dreams flooding through me. “I want to be a criminologist.”

  I was studying part-time through the Open University. The course would take six years before then specialising. After that, I would have to gain a doctorate at a university, which would be another three years.

  “Impressive. Does that mean you’ll be leaving us one day?”

  I nodded, grinning. “One day.” Downing the rest of my drink, I decided it was his turn. “What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. What are your hobbies and stuff?”

  “I’m a bit of a film geek. I am also quite partial to a book or two here and there. I go fishing every so often and I like to ski too. That’s about it.”