Page 57 of Shifted Desire

Fuck. I’d rather be shot than go back to my desk and pretend like I didn’t get my blatant cry for attention summarily shut down, but I have to face my actions. If I apologize, make some bullshit up about it being some weird succubus instinct that took me over, maybe it’ll be okay. He’s got to be sympathetic to that, right?

I check my mascara and hair and smooth down my skirt, really wishing I’d had the presence of mind to grab my panties from my desk drawer so I could put them back on before confronting Nathan again.

His door is closed when I get back to my desk, and I chicken out, deciding that I should fix the document and bring it in as a peace offering before I bother him again.

When that’s done, I knock on the door, steeling myself for him to chew me out for my lack of professionalism. Hating that I have to apologize when he’s the one who changed the parameters of our agreement without consulting me. He’s the one who listed spanking, degradation, and humiliation on his list of kinks he likes.

“Come in,” he barks from inside, and my damn hands tremble with anxiety as I turn the handle and step inside to face my fate.

I startle at the intensity in Nathan’s stern glare, my skin heating again in an annoying mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Arousal he’s going to smell, given my lack of underwear, and will probably only serve to piss him off more.

“I brought you the corrected contract,” I say as evenly as possible, fighting against my rising frustration.

He stares as I set it on his desk, saying nothing.

Agonizing silence fills the air, and all my embarrassment shifts to indignance in a flash.

Screw this. I’m not going to walk on eggshells around him or apologize for doing something that we agreed to. I made a silly typo in an attempt to get him to fuck me, and it took five seconds to fix.

“If you’d like to alter the terms of our contract, it’s common courtesy to inform the other party before making those adjustments.”

Nathan blinks at my sharp tone. “Excuse me?”

My jaw tenses, and I force my professional persona into place to keep from raising my voice. “My behavior, while clearly unwanted, was still operating under the terms of our contract. I shouldn’t be punished when you didn’t communicate with me. I’m excellent at every aspect of this job, and I was only attempting to remind you of everything I have to offer. If you’re no longer interested in some of those skills, then you need to tell me.”

His nostrils flare, and there’s a flash of heat in his eyes. “I’m not in the mood to have this conversation.”

My smile is saccharine. “You’re clearly not in the mood for a lot of things lately. That’s no excuse to embarrass me when a simple conversation would’ve avoided any…mistakes.”

The muscle in his jaw tics. “I didn’t think a conversation was needed when I haven’t requested your assistance in almost two weeks.”

Okay, now I’m really getting angry. “And why exactly is that? Because you had no complaints about my performance, and yet suddenly you act like I’m distasteful to be around.”

“I don’t need to explain to my assistant why I’m not fucking her.”

“Ah, I get it. I’m too beneath the big, powerful boss to have a right to know anything. I should shut up and be grateful that you haven’t fired me.”

Nathan scowls. “That’s not what I said.”

“Isn’t it?” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring back at him. I don’t even care anymore about keeping my job. I only care about him admitting that he’s been an ass.

He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

My stomach lurches as my bluster deflates and I realize that, oh shit, maybe he is actually going to fire me, and I have no recourse even if it’s entirely unfair.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please don’t fire me. I can’t go back to sitting at home with my parents. This is all I have, and I’m good at the work, and if you don’t want to talk about why you’ve changed your mind, we don’t have to. Just please don’t fire me, Nathan.”

The word vomit makes my face flush with shame at how pathetic and desperate I sound. To my horror, tears well in my eyes.

I turn, unwilling to let him see that final humiliation. Gods, I can’t believe how stupid I am.

“Shit, please don’t cry.” Nathan sounds alarmed, and I flinch when his hand lands on my shoulder.

I shrug off the touch, spinning around to find him right behind me, his expression stormy. Wiping my cheeks, I glare daggers at him as best I can while crying. “You’d cry too if some asshole was firing you for just trying to do what you both agreed to.”

“I’m not firing you.”

I frown, hurt still thrumming through me. All the questions I have about him pushing me away bubble up and spill out before I can stop them. “Then why did you say you can’t do this? Why are you pushing me away? Did I do something wrong?”