The Boy Next Door: A Standalone Off-Limits Romance by Ella James

Author:Ella James [James, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HEA Press, LLC
Published: 2017-05-07T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Dash

Amelia’s hand. In my hair.

Fuck.

She tugs a few strands near my nape, then rubs her nails over my skin. “Did you do it after work Friday?”

“Before the party,” I manage.

She rubs her hand over my head, ruffling my hair gently. “It looks nice.”

That feels nice. So fucking nice, my dick is throbbing in my boxer-briefs.

I grit my teeth and shut my eyes, and within seconds, I can hear her shoes clink on the floor and feel her warmth diminish. When I open them, I find her sitting in her chair. It’s rolled away a few feet, as if she can sense my want of her and she’s reacting with some distance.

Thank fuck.

I don’t need this. I don’t want or need to fuck with her. Scratch that: I want to, but I definitely don’t need to. Far from it. I spent the weekend raking myself over the coals because I touched her Friday. She was drunk, and I was stupid. Unforgivable, again.

I don’t want to toy with her, so when I came to work today, I tried to be as open and as friendly as I could be, just so she’ll know where we stand and maybe think we can be friends. It seems stupid, but…I don’t know. It’s all I’ve got.

I feel like shit that she kissed me. If she still wants me…

Any feelings she might have for me, beyond hate or irritation—all the things I thought I got from her when our work first started here—are misplaced, and a sign that what happened with us left a mark on her. I fucked her up, I fucked her over.

I take a slow, deep breath and tell myself to get out of my head. Flip to a fresh page in my pad and start sketching. My hand around the pencil is sweaty, though. I put that work aside and get on the computer, choosing color palettes.

Nearby, I can sense Amelia moving, but I don’t dare look at her. I don’t allow my gaze to wander till she stands up. She walks slowly behind me. I hear something clink on the floor.

A pencil. She dropped it right beside my office chair. I could reach it if I—

Ammy leans down, showing me her ass in white dress pants. I hold my breath and wait for her to straighten up. Instead she laughs.

“Oops.” She crouches and waddles slightly toward the pencil, giving me a Grade-A view of her round ass. It’s in my fucking face.

Just when I’m thinking she’ll stand back up, she does…but instead of stepping back to her chair, Amelia leans over the desk right beside me, tapping something into the keyboard, jutting her hip out as she does it.

“Just need to check…” Her mumbles grow so quiet, I can’t hear them. But I can see her thrust her hip out further. I can smell her: warm skin, lotion, female.

She throws the pencil down again—I see her do it!—and then crouches back over to get it.

“Sorry to keep staying in your space here,” she says, sounding cheery.

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