by Stella Rhys
“Damn, babe. Got you all wet.”
He leaned down, dabbing a napkin to the back of my calf and alerting me to the fact that clean-up was over now—that I was standing on my own two feet, staring at a fully swept floor as I felt the remaining bit of Adam’s touch—his hand on my hip—slide slowly off my body.
“My bad, AJ. Let’s get you another drink,” Josh said as I finally lifted my head to look over at Adam. And as soon as our eyes locked, my heart leapt in my throat.
He was leaning casually against the bar and at first glance he was stoic, impassive.
But I could see the thick, hot lust behind his heavy-lidded gaze, and the half-second clench of his jaw as our eyes remained locked for another few seconds.
Don’t do that unless you want to get fucked, AJ.
Did he really say that to me? It was ten seconds ago, but it felt like a fever dream now.
“Come on. I got some friends to introduce you to,” Josh said as he placed a flute of champagne in my hands.
I was still staring at Adam, but without protest, I let Josh usher me away, because I needed to separate myself right now.
I needed to be as far as physically possible from Adam for the rest of the night, because as many times as we’d played things off this weekend, the tension was now unmanageable.
I mean how could it not be? I had just felt the full length of Adam’s cock throbbing against me and my pussy hasn’t stopped clenching since. My head was still spinning and I was so worked up I could barely handle Josh touching my back as he introduced me to some people whose names I didn’t even try to catch.
Still, I stood up straight, giving my best smile and chatting along, faking perfectly normal despite the fact that Josh was letting his hand slide down to the small of my back.
And the fact that Adam was still watching me like a hawk from the bar.
I didn’t have to look to know. I could feel it. I’d always been able to feel his stare and generally, I didn’t mind that. I liked it. It made communication between us faster. Easier. But tonight, he was weaponizing it. Using it to remind me of what I felt before.
Which was admittedly the hottest ten seconds of my life.
Shit. I needed to text Georgia.
No.
As soon as I had the thought, I changed my mind, because I knew I couldn’t. My best friend had been suppressing Team Adam vibes for years now, and I knew she’d only be the devil on my shoulder—especially when she heard the full story. That Caspar cheated. That technically, I could sleep with Adam if I really wanted to.
So I whipped out my phone to text the strictest voice of reasoning in my life.
ME: Tell me I can’t sleep with my boss.
EMILY: Excuse me??
EMILY: Obviously you can’t?? Why are you texting me this??
When I didn’t answer right away, she called, but I ignored it, so she texted again.
EMILY: What is happening right now?? You are ENGAGED Adrienne are you on drugs???
I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
I was not engaged. But I couldn’t rule out the drugs. I hadn’t taken any, but they would certainly explain the absolute batshit crazy taking over my mind right now. It was bad, taking on a life of its own and forcing me to imagine a scenario in which I just went home with Adam tonight and let him fuck me as hard as I knew he would.
Okay, no.
I needed out.
So once I finished chugging my champagne, I flashed a smile to the group, ignoring Josh’s bewilderment as I abruptly excused myself to the bathroom, where I found Liza sighing with boredom as she texted. Looking up, she cracked a grin.
“You look like you’re over it,” she snorted. And when I only blinked in response, she went back to texting. “Girl, I’m over it too. Me and the Melissas are sneaking out soon to hit a club. You in?”
My eyes lit up as my brain saw flashes of hope. Sweaty dancing. Sexy strangers.
Zero signs of Adam Maxwell.
I didn’t need to think before I was nodding vigorously.
“Hell yes. Let’s go.”
10
AJ
I felt hot.
Hotter than what could possibly be normal, even given the situation. The way my blood was pumping right now, coursing through me made my lips feel all swollen and tingly.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed when he looked up at me.
“Do me a favor—make a copy of that and give it to Warner. And try Julian again. He should be back from lunch by now.”
I nodded, watching Adam as he multi-tasked, his eyes laser-focused on an email on his laptop while his hands flipped through a file for a paper.
It was our third day back at the office since the pure havoc of the weekend. And it was my third day back since the night I ran off to the club with Liza.
The plan had been to grind against a hot guy at a club, go the hell home with him and then have a thrilling one-night stand that would satiate me for at least the next week—or whenever I got my ass on Tinder to find a decent fuck buddy in LA.
But that wasn’t what happened.
“Enjoy your sleepover with Deb?”
That had been the wry question that Adam had greeted me with at the airport the next morning, and though I couldn’t be sure he knew all the details—that I couldn’t find a guy I was willing to sleep with and wound up going home with Deb from accounting and watching Nightline with her while she complained about her husband—I could guess, judging from that prickish ghost of a smirk on his face, that he knew.
He knew I couldn’t trust myself to be near him. That I not only felt the clear-as-day contour of his impressive dick, but that wanted it too—so badly that I had to physically separate myself from him.
And that was where we were now. Completely aware of all of that.
But acknowledging absolutely none of it.
“Got it,” I nodded, but just as I turned to leave, Adam stopped me.
“AJ.”
A shiver moved over my skin as I turned around. “Yes?” I asked politely despite the wry look Adam was hitting me with.
“I think you need to take this from my hand in order to make a copy of it.”
My eyes fell to the file he was holding.
Goddammit.
“Right,” I said, willing my cheeks not to burn as Adam eyed me with that look.
That damned look.
Anytime he said anything to me this week, I swore he did it with this look. This mix of smugness, pity, and amusement. It had been gnawing at me all week and I truly couldn’t hate him more for it, despite the fact that yes, I’d been totally off all week.
Since coming back to LA, there’d been no extra talking on my part. No joking. No banter. In fairness, I’d been really busy. But I’d been busy before and still had time to give Adam my usual shit.
But this week is different.
Because every time I stepped foot in his office, I felt the desperate, flustered need to get out. STAT. My words weren’t coming to me the same. I felt less coherent and eye contact in itself was suddenly a job.
It was draining. Being within five feet of Adam was rough, so his office to me was now like a war zone.
And to make matters worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream.
The fucking dream.
The one where Adam called me into his office, his gaze steely as he reclined in his seat and instructed me to undress for him.
It made me gasp myself awake the first night I had it, which was super awkward considering I was rooming with Deb, who I really didn’t know that well. Hopefully, she didn’t hear it. But if she did, I didn’t want to know.
I had more than enough messing with my head.
“Thanks. I’ll be right back,” I said, taking the file and turning on my heel.
But not before I caught his little smirk to himself as he went back to work.
Ugh.
What happened that weekend happened to both of us, but in classic A
dam fashion, he seemed totally fine. Undistracted and unfazed. Meanwhile, I was struggling bad, and all he could do was find it amusing.
It pissed me off.
But I couldn’t call him out on it without bringing up the whole weekend I never wanted to talk about again, so I tried to detach myself, focusing instead on simply doing my job and acting as professional as possible and avoiding any unnecessary or prolonged contact with Adam.
Was that normal for us? No. Did we both know that? Yes. But I was in survival mode right now, so I didn’t care. I was just doing whatever I needed to do to get past this period where the majority of my energy was spent warding off sexual thoughts about Adam.
It’ll go away, I assured myself. Over and over.
It’ll go away.
But on Wednesday, I entered his office to find him sitting on the couch, which was by no means an unfamiliar sight.
But he was holding his phone in his lap, and something about the manspread he had going in that blue suit sent my mind straight to the gutter. It was like full-on going to battle having to stand in front of him, absorbing the full pressure of his gaze while giving him the rundown and fighting off every dick-related thought that existed in my mind.
The worst part was stumbling twice on my words, earning myself a condescending look.
“Do you need a minute?” Adam asked, sounding frosty. And annoyed.
Probably because I’d been short with him. Avoiding him. Trying to pass off a million unusual behaviors as our office normal, which he clearly didn’t appreciate.
It was definitely tense.
But since it was my only move, I kept telling myself to take it day by day. That things would get slowly better. Just watch, I told myself. Things will feel so much more normal by Thursday.
But then Thursday came.
And it couldn’t have been worse.
11
AJ
“I can’t lie. That sounds hot,” Georgia mused as I held my phone to my ear while checking under every stall of the bathroom. All empty, and thank God for that, since I’d just caved and given Georgia a very detailed description of what had happened in the conference room before. The short version was that I’d brushed past Adam on my way out and gotten a whiff of his cologne.
The long version was that it was two very long seconds of torture, mostly because of how fucking good that cologne smelled, and how annoyingly hot he looked in that suit. I’d never seen it before but it was dark blue and tailored, and stretched so perfectly across his Superman shoulders that I couldn’t help but relive that night in the hotel room—when he’d worn nothing but a white T-shirt, and I’d gotten a much better look at all that sculpted muscle.
“It was hot, technically, but I’m seriously failing right now at the whole stop-looking-at-him-like-that thing. And it really doesn’t help that I’m currently separated from my good vibrator.”
“The one you got in Chicago? That Adam said made you look ‘thoroughly fucked?’”
“Yes,” I grumbled, standing in front of the sink and staring at my not-so-familiar reflection in Georgia’s soft button-up top and a grey pencil skirt.
With Caspar refusing to vacate our shared home, I’d been staying at an AirBnB since returning to LA, and since I couldn’t get him to leave long enough to grab my things, I was currently living off whatever belongings I’d brought with me to the Palm Beach trip—along with some borrowed clothing from my best friend’s corporate days.
It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have time to shop. Also, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice Adam’s lingering eye when he first saw me walk in wearing a skirt.
“So, did you guys get to third base in the dream yet?” Georgia asked, making me stamp my heeled foot.
“Georgia Jane. Please don’t make me regret telling you about that,” I said, referring to the realization that my sex dream about Adam was in fact recurring. I’d had it Sunday night, Tuesday night, and again this morning.
And each time, we got a little more naked.
“What? I just want to know if Dream Adam has a nine-incher too.”
“Honestly, I don’t know yet because we haven’t gotten that far, but I’d prefer not to think about it now because—”
My phone buzzed twice to interrupt my sentence, and the second I looked at my screen, my pulse jumped.
ADAM: Where the hell are you?
ADAM: Get in my office
“Shit!” I hissed, looking at the texts then the time and realizing I’d taken way longer than a five-minute break. “Georgia, I gotta go!” I blurted.
I couldn’t even wait for her to say bye before I was bursting out of the bathroom, racing down the hall, and getting into Adam’s office just in time to hear him snap at me.
“Why didn’t you send the research to Knox’s team?”
I blinked.
It was like smacking face-first into a brick wall as I stopped dead in my tracks, my pulse jumping at the look of pure, undisguised fury on Adam’s face.
“What?”
“The research. From the first meeting,” Adam said tightly. “They asked for it on Tuesday. I thought you’d sent it by Wednesday. But they just called right now saying they never got it.”
I stared, the realization hitting me like another pile of bricks. “Adam, I…”
I frowned to myself.
I’d spaced. I realized that as I remembered the email from Knox’s team on Tuesday. I remembered Adam reminding me about it. And then I just… forgot about it.
Fuck.
I hadn’t made a mistake this dumb since my first month on the job and suddenly all I wanted was to crawl into a hole. But I forced myself to get past the mortification so I could remedy the situation.
“I’m so sorry, Adam. It won’t happen again. I’m going to send it right now,” I said, barely finishing my sentence before he cut in.
“Don’t bother. They took a meeting with RTA today.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “As in Roth Talent Agency?”
“What other RTA is there?” he asked cuttingly.
I swallowed.
None.
RTA was the industry goliath that took on any and every client just to keep its monopoly over the sporting world. Like everyone else at Engelman, I hated them.
Of course, my reasons were both professional and personal.
I gulped, feeling several worlds of regret as I just stood there, watching Adam seethe.
“Look, AJ, maybe you forgot, because of all your personal issues during the Palm Beach trip, but this client is really fucking important to me.”
I bristled at his tone. “Trust me, Adam. I want to sign him as badly as you do.”
“Then act like it.”
My temper flared for half a second before I breathed in deep, forcing myself to respond in a strictly professional tone.
“I will. It won’t happen again,” I said respectfully before turning on my heel and heading back to my desk.
I wanted to be pissed at Adam—and I was—but I also knew I had no right. I’d just fucked up. Royally. And for the dumbest possible reason.
ME: Hi I just potentially cost us a client because I can’t stop avoiding my very fuckable boss
I sent the text to Georgia just as Kenzie Engelman waltzed by in a crop top and leather skirt. “Adam busy?” she asked.
“Free as a bird,” I lied, if only to give myself a two-minute breather from him.
GEORGIA: Are you okay?
ME: Well I messed up big and he just chewed me out but I still managed to be turned on by how hot he is when he’s mad so I think the answer is no I’m not okay because I’m legit insane.
GEORGIA: No you’re not! Angry Adam is a thing
She had a point.
Angry Adam was indeed a thing coined by the women of this office, because he was generally always smiling and being a smart ass. It was rare that he was ever full-blown mad and when he was, the ladies tended to find an excuse to pass by his office, just to get a glimps
e.
Well, now’s the time, girls, I thought as I decided to ignore his latest text of “get rid of her”—as in Kenzie—for just another minute.
GEORGIA: So what are you doing now?
ME: Oh nothing just avoiding his office because of what we did there in my dream
ME: And trying not to picture his dick based on what I felt over the weekend.
I hit send on the last text just as Liza’s voice sounded before me.
“Hey, girl,” she said, appearing so suddenly that I practically slammed my phone face down on my desk. “I’m heading out soon but I need to scan those documents. Did Adam sign them yet?”
“Oh.” I peered over my shoulder into his office. “I’m not sure, but I’ll remind him and I’ll bring them right over,” I replied as I watched Kenzie lean so far over Adam’s desk that she was practically laying on her stomach. “I just gotta get that one out of there first,” I said, offering a laugh as I turned back around.
But when I did, I found Liza still gazing into the office, her eyes glittering the way they did whenever she let herself check out Adam.
“Yeah, Kenzie Engelman is the epitome of spoiled and clueless, but I can’t even blame her for this,” she said, her head tilted to the side as she bit the corner of her lip. “Sorry. I know Adam drives you nuts, but we’ve been discussing him all day in The Pit. He just looks… so fucking hot today. I honestly don’t know how you do it.”
I don’t, I thought bitterly, but I smiled through a couple more lines of chit-chat before Liza went back to her desk. And as soon as she was gone, as if on cue, Kenzie came out on her own.
But this time, she stood in front of my desk till I slowly lifted my head and looked up at her and her little scowl.
“He told me to send you in,” she said.
I raised my eyebrows.
Shit.
It definitely said something when Adam was having Kenzie deliver messages to me.