Sir by Kelley R. Martin

Author:Kelley R. Martin [Martin, Kelley R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

Stella

Curiosity is a funny thing. It’s like a little devil sitting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear. Urging you. Compelling you. It makes you do things you know you shouldn’t.

Like snooping. We all know to respect someone’s privacy, but if you suddenly find yourself alone in someone else’s house, your mind starts to wander.

What’s in that drawer? What’s behind that door? What’s in their closet?

It starts off innocently enough, but when you know for certain that no one’s around to catch you in the act… Well, your curiosity gets the better of you. Your fingers become itchy with the need to touch, open, explore.

That’s how I find myself in Clayton’s home office when I should be upstairs gathering his clothes so I can drop them off at the dry cleaners.

It’s been a few weeks since we started … fucking? Casually seeing each other? I have no idea what to call us or what I am to him—if I’m even anything other than a warm place to stick his dick every night.

For someone who’s worried about “blurring the lines,” he sure hasn’t missed an opportunity to fuck me.

He’s bent me over every surface in his office when I deliver his lunch. On the days that I don’t bring him lunch, he still eats out.

As in he eats me out on his desk before getting something from the cafeteria downstairs.

And every single night without fail, he expects me to come over and fuck him.

The sex is so great that I don’t mind, but I’m starting to feel … like I need more from him. I’m not asking for a ring or any kind of commitment. I just need more of an emotional connection.

There are times when I feel like he wants that too, when he gets all tender for the few seconds after he comes, but then it’s gone in the blink of an eye and he’s back in boss-mode.

It’s infuriating.

And since he hasn’t told me anything about his personal life, aside from the fact that I’m the first employee he’s crossed the line with, I’ve had to rely on Google to fill in the rest. Everything I’ve learned about him—his family, relationships, business—I’ve learned secondhand.

Now, when I’m alone in his place, my mind starts to wander. I can’t help but think about all the things I could find here that Google doesn’t know about…

My sandals click on the shiny floor as I round the corner of his desk, my fingers tracing the dark wood. I grip the metal drawer pull on the top drawer, hesitating for a second before pulling it open.

There’s not much to see—some pens, post-its, paperclips—but shoved way in the back is what looks like a framed picture. I pull it out, a lump forming in my throat when I look it over.

It’s a shot of him and some beautiful woman on a picture-perfect beach, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Thanks to Google, I know it’s Claire, his ex-girlfriend and current fiancée to his ex business partner.

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