Cake Love: All Things Payne(73)

"All right, Mr. Payne."

What am I going to say, no? I need this job so I have to suck it up and do a week of accounting. Hopefully it's only one week. What if I am so bad at it he makes me stay there for a month until I understand everything? I am starting to get nervous like one of those dreams where you show up naked for class and you find out there is a quiz that you never studied for.

"Good."

He stares at me for a moment, which is unusual for him, and then proceeds to reach over and open his desk drawer. Only his desk drawer won't budge. He gives a few good tugs and nothing happens. I hear him mumble under his breath as he gets up and puts all his weight into it.

"Here let me help you with that, Mr. Payne."

I get up and walk around his desk.

"If I can't get it open, what makes you think you can?"

He spits out the words while continuing to manhandle the drawer. I smirk and tap my foot. The mafia has ways of making people disappear; well I have ways of making things unstuck. It's one of my many talents. I would wink after that comment but that would seem inappropriate, especially in this scenario.

"Do you want me to try or not?" My arms are folded over my torso letting him know I am doing him a favor.

He lets go of the handle and chuckles. Mr. Payne actually laughs. I didn't think that was possible from him. The way everyone talks, especially the mailroom staff (they know everyone's business), you would think Mr. Payne was born with a hole in his brain where humor should be.

"Be my guest." He waves his hand at the draw and sits back into his chair, swiveling it around to face me for the show.

I give him a knowing smile and make a big show of trying to pull the handle, knowing my little wrist trick works every time. He will be amazed that a light tug from me dislodges the sticky drawer. I get ready to flick my wrist and pull ... nothing. I do it again and again. Still nothing. What the hell?

I am tugging and tugging at it, placing my healed shoe on the desk for leverage and yanking with all my might.

"I think that's enough, Ms. Drake. You can ..."

I got the drawer unstuck, but it caused me to lose my balance and fall over right into his lap, face first.





Chapter 7 - THE Holiday Party ...

I inhale, deeply. Big mistake. It just makes me moan rather loudly. He smells of spice and the aroma is so nice. His hand comes to rest on my head, slowly inching back until his finger tugs at the black rubber band holding my long red hair in place.

I raise my head looking up at him and can still feel the heat from his thighs on my cheeks. He reaches for my glasses, removing them from my face and gently placing them on the desk. As his hand returns he lightly brushes his finger across my bottom lip. My tongue darts out giving a flick as it passes by. He sucks air in quickly and when he releases the breath my name accompanies it.

"Morgana." Henrik moans.

It is my turn to move my hands. They both creep up his thighs and come to meet at the rock hard center. One hand starts to rub and I look up to see his eyes flutter close as his head falls back. He wants this and gods of THE I want this too.

My other hand unclasps his pants and then pulls down the zipper. I reach in and tug down his briefs just enough to release the engorged ...

EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE!

My eyes fly open and I am staring at my ceiling fan. In my bedroom. The loud EEEE sound is blaring from my alarm clock and I reach over to shut it off in an overly aggressive way.

"I HATE YOU ALARM CLOCK!" I scream to the inanimate object and then throw what is in reach at it to prove my point. A pillow and my Kindle miss the clock completely, but manage to knock everything else off my side table, including a cheap ceramic IKEA lamp that shatters on the floor.

"Now I hate you even more clock! See what you made me do!"

It doesn't cry. I think it's immune to my verbal abuse, shrugging it off as "Morgana's usual morning tirades."

I sit up in bed and stare at the bright red 7:01 on the clock and sigh.

"I'm sorry. It's not you it's me. I just can't stop dreaming about him. It's so frustrating, ya know? I mean I have barely worked with him and when I do I always manage to embarrass myself in some manner."

7:02 it says to me. I laugh and shake my head.

"I know, I know. The lap face plant was just the worst. It's not so much I tripped and fell into his crotch, but that I didn't try to get up right away like a normal person. He had to say my name, 'Ms Drake?' and physically push me away before I snapped back into reality."

7:03.

"You're right I do need to get laid or date or something.

I get up and walk over to unplug the clock, carefully avoiding the broken shards and take it into the bathroom with me as I start the shower. I plug it back into a wall socket before I undress and step into the warm water. Looking through the glass door I see a fogged up blinking red 12:00 starting back at me.

"I'm worried about today though. They are closing the office early for the holiday party. I know I'm going to see him there. It'll be so awkward. I haven't had to see him since the lap fiasco and since I have worked the last few days in Accounting they keep me so busy I don't have time to socialize with anyone."

Flashing 12:01.

"That's a good idea. Make an appearance and then make up an excuse to leave early. You're right about ..."