was mentally estimating its size (S or XS?) so he could start shopping online for a noose. My noose, in case you're wondering.
So yeah, lesson learned after that.
And what I learned was...not to stop staring. Instead, I just worked harder these days at being sneaky and making sure that I was all subtle and discreet when my obsession got the better of me, and I just had to find a way to stare at him.
He was just so, so...hot.
Just something about him that drew me in like no one else, something about him alone that's just...ugh.
Back when I just started working for him, I had really thought my obsession with him was like this summer flu I could eventually recover from. But obviously, that didn't happen, and my crush on him only kept growing each day until it was now the size of the state of Texas.
My next strategy had been to try understanding the source of my attraction to him. I was hoping that if I could somehow find out why I found him so attractive, I could then start searching for - and dating - a guy who was similar but a lot less prone to cursing at the sight of me.
Originally, I had put it down to the fact that he was one of the men that made up Strakh Inc., and the dangerously exciting double life he led - dashing billionaire by day, fearless vigilante by night - was what attracted me the most.
But then I'd be asked to stick around for one of those rare Strakh Inc. meetings at the battle room, and no matter how long and hard I made myself stare at the other guys...
Sasha was a gentleman through and through, but I could only look at him as my brother from another mother.
Stelios Diamandis (aka Voice #2), a smooth-talking Greek billionaire, never failed to charm a smile out of me, but that was it.
Drake Morrison, the one whose voice was too casual, turned out to be ex-FBI, and while I no longer found him intimidating, the only other feeling he inspired was sadness. The pain that haunted his gaze never seemed to go away, not even when he was busy making fun of my "Mrs. Doubtfire" glasses.
Lastly, there was Bastien Havenstein - he with the gravelly, rumbling tone. Tall, big, and hard as a tank - sort of like Jason Momoa, same beard and all, but minus the lengthy locks. The German tycoon didn't speak much, but he always had a kind word to spare when he was around.
Just like my boss, the four other members of Strakh Inc. were the kind that topped the usual lists of who's who, who's hottest and richest, year after year after year.
And yet...
Not a single one of them made my heart flutter. Not one of them made me want to steal glances over and over. Not one of them made me dream of kisses and lingering touches.
But then I'd find my gaze accidentally drift towards Dmitry, and...
Ooh...la...laaaaaaaaaaa.
I'd see him walking away, and I'd find myself wondering how it would feel, to rake my nails over the muscled cheeks of his ass as he joined our bodies and made us one.
I'd see his lips move as he spoke to the other guys, and I'd find myself wondering how it would feel, having my own lips crushed under that cruelly beautiful mouth of his.
I might still be a virgin, but I wasn't born in the eighteenth century. My favorite romance novels were more than a little raunchy, and they were enough to help me reasonably guess things like how, um, well-endowed my boss was.
A few seconds of watching Dmitry, and man...
That was all it took.
A few seconds, and the stories I could make up about him and me, together, were endless.
Just a few seconds, a few seconds that I believed were harmless because I didn't think my boss would ever notice.
But I was wrong.
IT WAS AN UNUSUALLY breezy Friday afternoon in September, and I had been about to lock up and leave when I received a text from Dmitry. He had never texted me before this, and I had an even bigger shock when I finally read his message.
I need you to order dinner for two. Choose whatever you think's good.
My knees knocked against each other, and I collapsed back into my chair as I found myself suddenly out of breath.
Did I read that right?
I rubbed my eyes and made myself read the message one more time.