Tell Me You Want Me
They must be fired, then.
Although the whispers that spread, in part largely to Gail, include fears of the company running with so many leads laid off at once, most don’t mind seeing them leave. I’m certain a few who were under the executive assistant in finance will cheer in celebration to that prick’s departure. All I ever heard about him were complaints.
It doesn’t take more than an hour to pass before there’s a conclusion among the majority of whispers: Those men encompass all that is wrong with the corporate world. They let people go rather than compensating them in the manner they should have been paid. They hired new employees and paid them less, pushing more onto everyone else’s plate. They demanded more and more from all of us, wanting everyone to take one for the team while increasing their bonuses every year.
It’s not good for a business to run that way, and it’s not good for people to live that way. The management here uses up employees until they break, then fires them, and starts over. They’ve never acknowledged or paid their respects to the employees who made the company what it is.
And now they’re walking out the door.
Five o’clock comes and nearly everyone is gone already. Most taking the day off to “readjust” to new procedures from their higher-ups. I stay, like I always do. The last hour, when everyone’s left and it’s quiet, when the emails stop and calls go to voicemail, are my most productive. Judging by Adrian’s statement yesterday, and his message from today, six is when the clock strikes midnight for him as well.
Somehow, that makes those giddy, girly feelings all the headier.
It’s six on the dot when I press the silver button with the arrow icon pointing downward for the elevator. I don’t know how I’m able to stand upright, with the nervousness that runs through me.
It isn’t like me, none of this is. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t thrilling.
When the doors open, my heart races at the sight in front of me. Adrian is already there waiting for me. Forcing myself to move slowly so he doesn’t see my anxiousness, I move to his side and turn to face the doors. “I expect there will be a company-wide email shortly,” I say to him as if it’s casual conversation. We both stare straight ahead, the doors still open, making each second pass by at an achingly slow rate.
“Why is that?” He moves to press the button for the foyer and I note the way his bespoke suit wraps around his broad shoulders. And the way he fills the not-so-small cabin with his presence alone.
“I hear heads will be rolling.”
As the elevator door closes, he smirks at me, a devilish look that brings an overwhelming heat to my cheeks. The elevator begins its descent and he asks, “Is that the talk at the watercooler?”
“More like the profanity Prath screamed on his way out.”
He chuckles, then reaches for the button again. One strong knuckle pushes in the emergency stop button.
Tick, tick, tick, my heart rages in my chest. Desire fills me, moving over my skin and pinning me in place. I should know better than to do this but I don’t. He’s a fantasy come to life and I won’t deny myself. How could a lowly sinner say no when the devil himself tempts her?
Confined in a small space together with no way out unless he decides and presses that button … all I feel is want and desire.
With one decisive stride, Adrian towers over me and personal space is nonexistent. My heel slips back half a step before I think better of it. He was calm and collected when I stepped onto the elevator, but now his eyes burn with a hunger I know all too well. With my next breath, the scent of his cologne fills my lungs.
“I’ve had a rather difficult day,” he rasps. “And it’s well after six p.m.”
He pushes me against the wall all at once and it’s just like when he put me on top of his desk. Reasoning becomes impossible and pushing him away is even more unlikely. Adrian slides my dress up, his hands hot and his touch sending every nerve ending beneath it into sparks.
His hands roam in every place I’ve thought of him touching, of him claiming, since I left him last night. He’s rough and commanding, gripping my curves and devouring my neck with openmouthed kisses. Every sensation is ignited and all I can do is hold on. With my arms around his shoulders, I can barely breathe, the heat suffocating me.
I don’t doubt he’s missed this as much as I have. Maybe he did spend his day like I did, obsessed with the idea of continuing what we started yesterday.