Motorcycle Man(10)

“I can’t?” he asked.

“No. It’s sexual harassment.”

He smiled again. “Darlin’, don’t think I have to remind you that you took a job, you knew I was your boss, you came to what amounts to a company party and then you f**ked my brains out. I didn’t harass you. You walked with me straight to my bed and you participated fully in everything we did in that bed. You could try but you’d have a hard f**kin’ time convincin’ anyone I’m harassin’ you.”

This was, unfortunately, true.

“I’m quitting,” I announced firmly.

“So quit,” he returned. “I can’t chain you to that chair. It isn’t me who’s gotta look in the mirror in the mornin’ and know I’m a coward.”

My body jolted straight in my chair.

“What?” I snapped.

“Babe, you took this job knowin’ it’d be a challenge and you fought for it knowin’ how that challenge changed. Now, two days in, your first head-to-head with me, you’re givin’ up. That’s bullshit and it’s weak. That’s the way a coward would act. You give in, you gotta look in the mirror and know that shit. I don’t. So you wanna quit, quit. That shit ain’t on me, it’s on you. You can live with that…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“So you wanted me to go, and I’m going, now you’re trying to goad me into staying?” I asked with easy to read disbelief.

“I’m tellin’ you the way it is. You’re sittin’ on your sweet ass in that sweet skirt knowin’ you’re gonna give in eventually and warm my bed. This isn’t about donuts, Red, it’s about you bein’ weak. So don’t try to bullshit me because I know your play and I’m callin’ you on it.”

“I am not going to warm your bed!” I fired back.

“Oh yeah you are,” Tack returned.

“You don’t even know my name,” I retorted.

“Nope, and I didn’t before when you sucked my cock, I ate you, you f**ked me hard and I f**ked you harder. Didn’t bother you then.”

“I thought you knew my name!” My voice was rising.

He bent at the waist, put a fist to my desk and said quietly, “If that what it takes for you, baby, then tell me, we’ll go to the Compound and I guarantee you’ll enjoy an extended break.”

“Go to hell, Tack,” I hissed.

“Or we can just lock the doors, close the blinds and I’ll do you on your desk.”

Total. Freaking. Jerk!

“Go to hell,” I repeated.

“Or, if you’re into that shit, we don’t have to lock the doors and close the blinds.”

I glared at him. He held my glare and did it with his lips twitching.

After we had our staring contest for a while, he whispered what sounded like a dare, “Gonna quit?”

“No,” I snapped, his lips stopped twitching because he grinned and then I finished, “Not until I find another job. You’re right. I need this job. I’ll start looking immediately and I promise to give you notice.”

“Right,” he muttered, still grinning.

“And in the meantime, I will warn you that I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“I’m patient, baby,” he said softly and I knew he wasn’t talking about me getting car and bike part orders right.

“Well, that’s good because you’re going to have to be,” I returned then added, “Very patient.”

“You’ll get it in the end,” he muttered, his meaning clear.