funny, you know.”
“I’ll work on it. Oh, and I don’t care if we are fucking. If you want to keep your new position, I expect you to have signed your first athlete by the end of the week. If you have any questions about where to start, you can ask Judy. Don’t ask David.”
“Why not? I thought David was one of the top agents here.”
“Because I don’t want David staring at your breasts. Those are mine, too.”
I felt a rush of heat spread in my stomach. Of course, there were the obvious workplace harassment arguments to be made. Except I didn’t find myself wanting to make a single one of them. I wanted everything Damon seemed to want, and I had a feeling he knew it. But we both knew I couldn’t just launch myself into a relationship blindly, not without being sure. Luna deserved that much from me.
“Got it. Show a little ass and David will be happy to help me with anything I need.”
“Don’t tempt me to use company time to fuck that naughty edge right out of your system.”
I raised my eyebrows, then swallowed. I wished I had been clever enough to snap back with something witty, but all I could do was hold back the flood of deliciously sexy images bombarding my consciousness. Damon tearing that silky black shirt open and then spinning me around to bend over his desk. His hands hungrily tearing at my clothes. The sensation of my arousal lubricating his thick length into me. My walls tight and—
“I’ll be good,” I said, cutting off my own desperate thoughts. This was bad. Self-control felt like a long-forgotten friend at the moment, and I knew my ability to resist jumping on Damon’s lap was only held back by the faintest thread of resistance.
“And if I so much as think David or any other man in this office is interested in you, I’ll abuse every ounce of my power to fire their ass straight out of your life.”
I gulped. This was new, and I wished I could say I didn’t like it in the dirtiest possible ways.
33
Damon
The workday was winding down in slow, painfully drawn out minutes. It was just after four—only three hours until I’d have Chelsea to myself off company property—and I was leaned back in my office.
Chris was sitting across from me with a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, at first, I thought you were constipated. You’ve got this kind of pent up, frustrated look on your face. Then I saw Chelsea walk by just now. You perked up like a fucking dog at the sound of popping bacon.” He smiled broadly. “Is my brother happy? Is he actually happy?”
I shook my head. “Happiness is an illusion. It’s the pointless moment after you reach a goal and before you set the next. Spending your life chasing happiness would be as productive as spending your life trying to ejaculate.”
Chris looked up at the ceiling, trying to process everything I’d just said. “Hm. Have you ever considered therapy?”
“I don’t want to listen to people’s problems. So, no.”
He snorted. “No, I don’t mean have you considered administering therapy to people. I mean, have you considered getting help. Because your brain is fucked up.”
“If what I am is fucked up and what you are is normal, then I’m perfectly content.”
“One of us has fun. The other sits in his office trying to reason with himself about why trying to be happy is pointless. Hmm. I wonder who has things more figured out.”
I sighed. I never really confided in Chris. He came to me with his problems and I fixed them. It wasn’t the other way around, even though I could tell he was trying to get me to open up and talk.
“Is there a reason you’re in my office?” I asked.
“Yep.” He was dressed in some kind of ridiculous tracksuit and a sleeveless shirt. I could at least appreciate that he was wearing gear from our biggest sponsor. They always liked it when the paparazzi got shots of our athletes in their gear. Free advertising.
“Hey!” Chris leaned in, snapping his fingers. “You’re drifting on me. I can tell you’re thinking about kicking puppies or doing your taxes or some shit. Focus.”
“I am perfectly focused.” Except Chelsea walked by again outside my door. Jane was leading her around, and Chelsea was trying to carry a giant stack of papers Jane appeared to have given her. Chelsea tried to scratch her nose with her elbow but