Under My Boss's Control

He watches me with an expression that I don’t understand. It doesn’t scare me, but it is a little intimidating. I start to feel embarrassed again and cross my arms over my naked chest.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he rebukes me sternly.

I blush and drop my arms. I avoid his gaze for several seconds, because I’m not sure how to respond to his compliments. He doesn’t seem like the gushing romantic type; in fact, I think he’s the opposite of that.

When I finally look back at him, he’s still watching me.

“You look tired,” he comments.

Right on cue, I yawn again.

“Maybe a little,” I admit softly.

He walks over to the bed and pulls back the covers. He indicates that I should crawl under them. I’m very surprised by his courtesy. I slowly get into the bed and lie down. After all that we have done, it feels good to rest. His bed is so soft and comfortable.

I feel him lying down beside me, then his arms wrapping around me. He pulls me backwards so that I’m snuggled against his chest.

This feels nice, I think to myself.

I start to relax.

I feel his lips against my ear and hear him whisper softly, “You know, I don’t normally do this kind of thing with my ‘pets,’ but I already consider you more than just a pet.”

He kisses my ear gently, and I happily drift off to sleep.

Chapter 8

Ben

Samantha has finally fallen asleep. She doesn’t move as I slide my arms out from around her body. I’m still careful not to wake her, though, as I slip quietly out of bed.

I pull on my pajamas and noiselessly leave the room. I walk down the hall to my home office, where I flip on the light and sit down in the leather chair at my desk.

Well. Today was certainly an interesting day, I think.

I don’t think either of us was expecting events to happen the way that they did.

My mind is preoccupied with so many things, many of them brand-new feelings that I am now struggling with.

It’s frustrating to me, because I’ve never had any of these thoughts or complications before with any of the others. They were all just there to serve my needs. Now I find myself caring about her and wanting to do things for her.

I open my computer and pull some files out of my desk drawer. I need to do work to distract myself from the emotions I’m having. I need to regain control of this situation, but I’m not sure how to.

I know I’m clever enough to come up with a way, but I can’t believe how I’ve been acting with her. Those things that I was saying and doing to her, that isn’t like me at all. I tell myself it’s just pillow talk. I couldn’t possibly have meant any of it. I’ve never treated any of my other pets like that before. I’m the master; I’m the one who’s always in control.

That’s what needs to happen again. I need to get back in control and regain the upper hand. This isn’t a relationship. I don’t want her to start thinking that it is.

I try to create business plans on how we can be more productive with the company after the quarantine is over, but it’s no use. I just can’t concentrate no matter how hard I try.

“Aw, to hell with this,” I curse.

I slam my computer shut, throw my papers down on the desk and stomp out of the office. The rest of the house is quiet. I go out into the darkened living room and lie down on my spacious couch. I think I have to sleep out here. Sleeping in the same bed with her would mark a level of closeness or intimacy that I can’t allow myself to feel with anyone.

I cover myself with the blanket that is draped over the back of the couch. I stare out the large windows, gazing at the moon and the night sky.

“You can’t get too close to her. She’s just a pet,” I tell myself.

I practice shutting off my brain and focusing on nothing else until I am able to finally fall asleep.

Unfortunately, it’s a brief and dreamless slumber that just leaves me feeling agitated and restless when I wake. I look around the room and see that it’s still dark. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells me it’s just before dawn. I feel like I didn’t sleep at all.

I lie wrapped in the blanket on the couch for a few minutes, but I still feel on edge. I get up and put the blanket back in its place, then stretch and pace the length of the living room.

It’s no use.

I want her again.

I walk quietly back into the bedroom, where she is sleeping soundly. I watch her for a few seconds and think again how beautiful she is. Then I have to tell myself not to be so sentimental and soft.