Page 35 of Dial F for Finance
DO NOT ANSWER:
Are you thinking about my mouth? I’m thinking about yours.
Well, now I am!
Every time I look at him, I remember exactly what his mouth can do—which is why I can no longer stand looking at him.
DO NOT ANSWER:
I can see you reading this, Jen.
I need to be inside you again.
The messages keep appearing, and apparently my hands have forgotten how to remain steady. I want to throw my phone out the window. Instead, I do what any self-respecting professional would do and shut off the screen.
Two more messages light up my phone in quick succession.
DO NOT ANSWER:
I can see you ignoring me.
Maybe I’ll just jerk off in here thinking about you.
I drop my cell in my desk drawer and turn back to my work.
Fuck. What was I doing?
Imagining the way Dominic’s eyes go dark when he looks up at me from between my thighs . . .
Shit! No!
Expense reports. Yes. Super-boring, not-at-all sexy expense reports.
Bennett’s office door opens and I jolt in my seat like I just got caught watching porn on the office computer. He glances down the hall Dominic went down, then back to my desk.
“Did I hear Cruz out here?”
“You did.” I glue my eyes to my screen, but I can see the way he hesitates in my periphery.
“Why didn’t he come directly to my office?”
“He wanted to use the conference room,” I lie, not even feeling bad about it after those texts he sent. My panties are ruined now.
“OK.” He drags the last syllable out.
“How was your honeymoon, Bennett?” I lift my eyes to meet his and force a smile, desperate for a subject change. “Is your wife well?”
He frowns. “You mean your friend Layla?”
“Of course.”
He looks around as if expecting to find a hidden camera somewhere. “Why are you making small talk? You loathe small talk.”
“Perhaps I’ve realized my social engagement skills are poor and I’m trying to correct it.”
Bennett steps in front of my desk, folds his arms, and stares me down. “What happened in Tokyo?”
“Business.”
