I walk into the kitchen and grab an apple and a bottle of water and settle on the couch, flipping on the TV to watch one of my reality TV shows.
Just working for a bit.
I smile as I picture him sitting at his desk, all sexy in his t-shirt and jeans. I'd love to distract him while he works. Yes, that makes the to-do list for the not too distant future.
You work too much. I send the text and watch in fascination as a fight breaks out on my TV between two annoying housewives. I don't know why I watch this shit. I'd never admit it anyone, and the only reason Natalie knows about my housewives addiction is because she shares it with me.
We will take this secret to our graves.
My phone chirps. I wouldn't be working if you were still here.
I grin. No? What would you be doing if I were there?
He response almost immediately. Kissing every inch of your amazing body.
Oh my. My face splits into a wide smile and I curl my feet up under me, as I settle in for some sexting with my man.
Only if I can return the favor. I would love to trace your tattoos with my mouth.
I love to trace your pussy with my mouth.
Holy fuck!
Mmm… you're good with your mouth, ace.
The housewives are still screaming at each other on the TV, so I mute it. My phone chirps.
Come back here, and I'll show you just how good with my mouth I can be.
Oh, I'm so, so tempted.
I thought you had work to do?
You are always more important than work, baby.
Damn, he can be so sweet.
I don't really want to sleep without him, with or without the sex, but I need a little distance. This is so new. I don't want him to burn out on me. And I have to get my head on straight for work tomorrow.
Ditto. I reply. And then: Heading to bed early to recover from the amazing sex this weekend, and to dream of you. Will see you in the morning.
Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well.
But I don't. I toss and turn most of the night, wishing I were with Nate.
Fuck, I have it bad.
****
It's Monday morning. My long five mile run this morning before work did nothing to calm my nerves of going back to work after my amazing weekend with Nate.
I fire up my computer and while it wakes up, I go in search of coffee to try to wake myself up too. I walk into the employee lounge and standing by the coffee makers, pouring himself a cup, is none other than Nate. Fire surges through me, and it's a shock to see him back in his sharp business suit, hair pulled back, looking all professional and… hot.
I'm thankful that his back is to me so I have a moment to paste on a neutral look on my face and approach him as I would have seventy-two hours ago.
"Good morning," I say, proud of myself for maintaining a pleasant, normal tone. Nate turns to look at me, and there is a moment of heat in those gray eyes and then they go cold. He stirs his coffee, throws away the tiny red and white straws and nods at me, not meeting my eyes.
"Julianne."
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks to his office.
I face the coffee, my back to the room, and close my eyes tightly. Okay, that hurt. I know I have to get used to it. Nothing can change for us here. But seeing the chill in his eyes, knowing I can't touch him… fuck.
I pour my coffee and head back to my own office to find an email from Nate waiting for me, asking me to compile some data on an account and ship it back to him asap.
Then I pull my phone out of my handbag to check for any messages and there is a text, from Nate, received two minutes ago.
Good morning. You look amazing in that black dress. I wanted to fuck you in the break room, but I think that would be frowned upon.
Oh my God! I giggle and my hurt feelings magically disappear.
You look delicious this morning. Almost forgot how hot you are in your suits. Of course, you're hot out of your suits too, ace.
I missed you last night.
I sigh at this last text.
Missed you too. Did you sleep okay?
I bring up the internet on my computer to start the work Nate requested when my phone chirps.
No.
Oh.
I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have any available time around lunch? I'd ask Mrs. Glover, but this isn't a professional request.
I dig into my research, and realize it's been at least ten minutes since my last text. I frown, wondering if he's going to respond when my phone chirps.
I just cleared thirty minutes at 12:30. Told Jenny I need a lunch meeting with you.
My desk phone rings.
"Jules Montgomery," I answer.
"This is Mrs. Glover, Jules. Mr. McKenna is requesting a lunch meeting with you at twelve thirty." She sounds polite and brisk.
"Thank you, Mrs. Glover. I'll be there."
She hangs up and I pick up my phone.
It's a date.