His Big Offer

The way he’d lay me out on the bed, teasing me with his mouth from my collarbone to my breasts and lower, tasting me with the same thoroughness that I imagine he uses in everything that he does. And the actual sex. My God, I can just see it, and I realize that I’ve been staring into space in this gorgeous office and now I’m wet thinking about the man who hired me.

There’s not much more to write. I read through it, blushing a little at how graphic the content is, but I think it fits with the tone of the article. Women shouldn’t have to shy away from talking about sex like we don’t like it and want it just as much as men do. I make some minor changes, edit a little until I’m completely happy with it. I’m nervous about sending it to Chance. I’m a blog writer, so I don’t spend a lot of time editing. What if it’s not good enough simply because I didn’t spend enough time on it?

I mean, it’s later in the day than I thought, going on four o’clock, but still…what if I went through all of this and he doesn’t like it after all? What if he realizes that I was using him as my inspiration? But I don’t exactly have a choice. He wants to see it, and I don’t think there’s anything else I can do to the article without a second opinion. Before I second-guess myself more, I open the email program and send it.

I sigh. I guess I go and see him now? At least to let him know that I’m done, and to ask about salary. I can’t even believe that I forgot to ask about that.

It was hard to pay attention when Chance was leading me to my office because I was so distracted by looking at his ass, so it takes me a couple of minutes before I figure out where I am and how to get back to his office. Marcy isn’t at her desk, so I just knock on the door.

Chance’s voice is muffled. “Come in.”

I push the door open, and the image of his office is just as striking the second time. “Hi,” I say.

“Hello.” Again that small amused smile. “How’s everything going?”

“Good,” I say, nodding. “I finished the article. It should be in your inbox, if you want to read it.”

“Excellent. I’ll give it a read sometime this evening. Have you given any thought to whether you’re going to say yes?”

I stare at him for a second. “You don’t want to read the article first to make sure I can do what you’re looking for?”

“No,” he says. “I told you earlier that I’d already made up my mind. If I have any thoughts on changes to the article I’ll let you know, but I don’t have any doubts about its quality.” I shake my head, and he raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You probably looked into me before you offered me this job, right?”

He inclines his head. “We did.”

“So you saw my job history.” I sit in the chair I almost knocked over this morning. “It’s not the best, and certainly doesn’t paint a good picture of me. Why on earth would you offer a job to someone like that? Especially when you’d never met me? I’m sorry that I keep questioning it. It just seems like something that’s too good to be true. And too good to be true never happens to me.”

Chance leans forward on his desk, suddenly even more engaged with a fire in his eyes. “People are good at different things,” he says. “I don’t believe that there’s anyone in this world that doesn’t have something that they can excel at. I don’t give a damn that you weren’t cut out for the jobs you had before. Your blog has been successful and you clearly have a knack for writing engaging content. Since that’s exactly what I’m looking for, why would anything else matter?”

Wow. That…actually makes sense. “When you put it that way, it makes sense.”

“Good. Now are you going to say yes?”

I laugh. “I was planning on it. Even though I forgot to ask about how much it pays.”

“Here.” Chance picks up a folder on his desk and hands it to me. “This is an employment contract. All the details of your salary and benefits are inside. I’d like it if you signed before you left today, but I’ll also accept if you need the night to think it over.”