Caught by the Boss

28

LEILA

We drive north. I sit with my back straight and my hands entwined on my lap, like I'm at an interview.

The only part that moves is my mouth. I keep biting my bottom lip, pursing them. I don't know what to do with myself after the heated kiss.

He's getting comfortable with touching me, and I can't find it in me to complain. Because I like it.

He's a brilliant, sexy menace.

During the drive, he had a 20-minute call over Bluetooth with an engineer, speaking in words I wouldn't understand even if I looked them up. It brings a strange warmth to my chest to see that he trusts me enough to speak about his business plans.

At one point, one tire dips into a hole, and his hand instantly finds my thigh, settling there protectively.

I'm ashamed to admit my pussy tingled. His hand was so close to where I wanted it to be

His hand stays there for fifteen minutes, warming my entire body although the air conditioner runs.

We're so lost in our thoughts that we don't realize there's no music is playing. He clicks on a random station, and quickly changes it when a love song starts playing. That's the last thing we want to hear.

Light rain falls, blurring the windows. There is no longer an outside world. Just us in this luxury car that seems to shrink with every mile we travel.

It smells so much like him. A faint scent of cologne that gives me just a hint of him—a tease, much like all of his kisses.

I'm in danger—we both are. With all the sexual frustration, I'm sure the cabin will catch fire. I could have easily denied this trip and insisted on going home, but something about my former boss, this heart-breaker, keeps me coming back.

After a few hours, the city has peeled back and we only see looming trees. It's a lush, thick scene only offering bursts of sunlights through the leaves. Holding a mystery of what's coming. A part of me is thrilled to find out, although I shouldn't.

I forsook this man, but his biceps and wicked lips are bewitching me.

We pull into the territory, and I see that he had been humble when he called this place a "cabin." It's more like a lodge, massive and sitting right by the lake. The grounds are immaculate. Flowers bloom and the foliage is trimmed. I fall in love instantly.

"Let me show you inside."

He parks the car and walks around to get my door right as I touch the door handle. He takes my hand and helps me out, and I stare at the grass like it's the most interesting thing I've ever seen. My face warms, and it has nothing to do with the temperature.

He gets our bags and we approach the building. A middle-aged man wearing a chef uniform appears by the door. He greets us and has a brief conversation with Hector about our meals as I look around the cabin.

Only art hangs on the walls. No family portraits. I see this is a trend in his homes. The furniture is luxurious, and to my dismay, there is wood everywhere. Even hardwood floors. The cabin might catch fire, after all.

"Leila, can I offer you anything to eat?" He asks.

I shake my head mutely, feeling out of place. I don't want to touch a single thing. I don't think I'll ever get used to the difference in our lifestyles.

He gives me a tour of the property. When we reach the lake, I take my shoes off and step into the water to wet my feet. The water is cool and relaxing. But when I swear I feel something touch my toes, I jolt and slip in the mud.