Having Kimbra walk in my office now is like a birthday present. Even though, technically, my birthday isn't for another four months, it would be a waste not to accept my gift.
"I-it was fraternization," she says.
"Really?" I ask. "We have a friendly work environment, Miss Jones. We encourage our employees to get along. You yourself told me recently that our company has no policy regarding fraternization outside the office."
Her boobs heave as she takes a deep breath. "Sir."
My dick painfully thickens at the word. I can't stop the image of her calling me that on her knees, like she was at Gaston's...except in my image she's naked.
"I'm not referring to friendly conversation near the coffee station," she explains, interrupting my thoughts.
Amused, I lean back against my desk and cross my arms over my chest. "What exactly are you discussing?"
Her cheeks flush. "Sex."
"Oh, sex. Well, what happens away from the office—"
"Not away from the office," she interrupts. "In the office. In the bathroom."
"Sex? Are we discussing unwanted advances? Did someone force him- or herself upon another?" Little does she know, that is what happened. Granted, I wasn't exactly fighting her off, but it was her advance.
"I-I don't think it was unwanted."
"And you know this how?"
Kimbra's hands go up and just as quickly come down, slapping the sides of her hips before she turns in a small circle, displaying a full view of her curves, her ass to her tits. Once she completes the turn, her blue eyes narrow. "Mr. Willis, you know that I know. You know I was there. You saw my shoes."
My grin broadens. "Only after I heard you. Tell me, did you come?"
All the color drains from her face. It happens so fast that I worry she may faint. And then, it's back. Red. Flaming red. Brighter than her shoes—cherry red.
"Mr. Willis, I'm here to say that what happened was inappropriate. What I witnessed was inappropriate. What you just said is—"
"Inappropriate," I offer. "Yes, it is. Perhaps HR should fire me."
"You know I can't..."
"Then what is this about?"
"I-I like this company. I like my job. I don't want you or anyone to screw it up."
"Screw?" My brows rise.
Momentarily, she purses her lips. "I'm here as a representative of the human resources department to warn you..."
My head tilts to the side as my grin grows, a little lopsided. She's warning me? This little firecracker is warning me, and I fucking love it.
"...will make you a deal."
I'd missed some of what she'd said, but the last part has me intrigued.
Pushing off the desk, I hit the button on the window, take another step closer, and then one more. "What kind of deal do you propose?"
As Kimbra inhales, I imagine taking one more step and feeling the brush of her tits against my chest.
At that moment, her resolve evaporates. "Never mind. It was stupid." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry I bothered you."
I reach out and grab her elbow. Just like in the restaurant, there's energy that courses from her to me. I wonder if she feels it too.
"Miss Jones, you're right. What you witnessed was inappropriate. We should have made sure we were alone."
She grimaces.
"We shouldn't have done it at all," I correct. "Michael wouldn't be pleased if this report were made to him. It's not like he could fire me either, but you're right. I was wrong."
Her eyes widened. "Then I'm glad—"
"What deal did you have in mind? What deal can be made to keep this just between the two of us?" Hell, I'll probably tell Michael anyway. I'll wait until we are three or four beers into a ballgame, but I'll tell him. Right now, I want to hear what Kimbra is thinking.
"I need a plus-one for a wedding."
My back straightens. What the fuck did I just hear? "Miss Jones, are you asking me on a date?"
"No," she answers too quickly. "I'm blackmailing you. Well, it's not really blackmail...it's more of a quid pro quo. And it's not really a date...it's a plus-one. It's a weekend. A deal for a weekend from hell." Her sentences all run together.
I work diligently to keep my lips from gaping open. "Blackmail? Deal? Plus-one. A weekend wedding from hell?"
She nods.
"I'm intrigued." This is more than a deal. This is the day I've been waiting for, and I intend to seize it. "A whole weekend?" I ask. "Will we travel somewhere?"
"Indiana. It's where I'm from. It's my cousin's wedding. I forgot about it or blocked it out. But now it's this weekend. My mother RSVP'd for two. I was dating...He...well, now I'm not. I never told my mom that we broke up. I can't go home without a date. I'm always the one without a date. It'll just be for this weekend, which, by the way, needs to start Thursday and...well, not end until Monday. So I need time off and so do you. And...oh...there's this thing about being in the wedding."
She shakes her head.
I stare at the lips, her full red lips that are the same color as her necklace and shoes. Her words continue to spew faster than I can comprehend.
"But I think I can get you out of that." She exhales. "That's it. You do this for me and I'll never mention what I heard. We can forget it ever happened. Unless...unless," she adds, "you're involved, like, with whoever that was." Her eyes widen. "Oh, you had a date...you said she cancelled. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."
My astonished expression is replaced by amusement. Involved? The date that cancelled was my mother and as for the woman in the bathroom, I don't even know her name. "Wait. No. I'm not involved. So tell me, Kimbra..." I like using her first name. "...how long have we been dating?"
Chapter Six
Kimbra
"Shit!" I take a step back, but Mr. Willis reaches toward me again. This time he grabs my hand. His touch is warm—a spark that brings the earlier fire back to life.
"Are you all right? You look a little pale."
The amusement in his tone reverberates in a straight line from my ears to right between my thighs. My core clenches as I remember the growl I'd heard earlier in the bathroom. No wonder I'm pale. My blood is too busy racing through my system, muting the world. I mean, I'm sure I misunderstood what he'd just said.
"Y-you agree? You do realize," I clarify, "that I'm talking a full weekend. Four days. My family." I pull my hand back as I remember my mother saying we would stay at their house with them. "Shit!"
This is a disaster.
Mr. Willis laughs. "Is that your favorite word? I should know—since we're involved."
I shake my head. "No," I answer too truthfully. "Fuck is my favorite word."
He laughs again, this time louder. Each chuckle diffuses a small amount of my horror.
"No! This was a bad idea. I just remembered, since I kind of forgot about this weekend, I didn't book a hotel. My mom wants us to stay with her and my dad, and I don't know, probably my brother and his wife will be there...and maybe even my grandma. Oh, Mr. Willis, this will never work."