Cake Love: All Things Payne(74)

"Morgana! I'm your friend right?"

Sighing, I tilt my head back into the spray to rinse the conditioner from my hair knowing what's coming next.

"Yes Aria. Of course you're my friend."

I wipe at the steamed up glass and see wisps of platinum hair surrounding dark brown eyes peaking in. Jumping from fright, I slip but manage to grab onto the railing on the door. My life flashes before my eyes for a moment and I have to say, it looks sad. Mainly it involves my parents, Aria, my grandma and lots of cake.

"Don't scare me like that, Aria!"

"Then talk to me or at least a living being. It's pathetic when you fall back on the clock. I'm starting to get jealous of a digital device."

I shut off the water and open the door; Aria's arm shoves through the crack with my blue towel.

"Thanks. It's just that I had another dream about him."

"Then just screw him and get it over with. You haven't gotten laid in how long, Morgana? It's just your subconscious vagina talking. It's whisper screaming, 'Help Me!' and your brain can hear."

As I move past her to get out of the shower and make my way over to my robe to start my morning process, she finally shakes her head and walks over to the toilet to sit and pee. She knows this fight is useless with me.

It doesn't take me long to get ready and I'm at the office by eight fifteen. The day flies by when I finally feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn to see him. Mr. Payne is standing there looking down at me, his eyes squinting and face serious. I glance at the clock and notice it's 3:18 p.m. The party started two hours ago.

His stiff body is swaying in a circle. When Mr. Payne speaks I know something is wrong.

"I need to speak with you, Ms. Draaaake." He slurs my name. Oh good he's drunk. Can you see how badly this is going to end, because I can?

"Yes, Mr. Payne?"

His hand grips my chair and he leans over, placing his other hand on my desk, pinning me in place. Mr. Payne's face is only inches from mine.

"Call me Henrik." His whiskey soaked breath burns my nostrils and eyes.

"Yes, Henrik."

He smirks and glances down at my cleavage a little longer than is appropriate before looking up again. His hand leaves my chair and his fingertip presses right between my eyes.

"You don't have your glasses on, Morgana."

"I'm not in the basement this week. My eyes aren't irritated like they were last week."

He drops his finger and head at the same time as if suffering a mortal wound. After a moment he lifts his head and stares at me with darkened blue eyes.

"I liked your glasses."

Blood races throughout my body, finally landing at my core as his voice deepens with his last statement. I visibly shutter causing him to smirk. A few very awkward but arousing seconds pass and he shoots up to standing while giving his hands a good clap.

"Okay! Off to my office. Come on, Morgana."

Drunken Mr. Payne turns and races off. I grab my coat and purse, feeling it's better to have my things with me in case I need to flee.

He catches an elevator before I have a chance to catch up so I get to his office a minute after him. The door is open and I see his suit jacket on the floor in the middle of the room while his red tie is hanging from the coat rack. I place my coat and purse on the rack before moving farther into the room. As I get closer to his desk I see his shoes on it and socks lying in his client chair.

"Morgana." His voice is low and coming from the side of the room. I turn to see him sprawled on his black leather couch. One arm draped over the back, while the other hangs over the side. His legs are spread eagle and either it's the way the material of his pants are gathering or this man has a semi.

His head jerks indicating for me to take a seat on the couch next to him. My lips purse and my internal organs go to war. My brain is shaking it's head and telling me to high tail it out of there offering me things I don't like, facts.

"He's drunk. He's my boss. He's drunk." Shut up, Brain, I know already!

My vagina is jumping up and down wildly screaming at me: Oh woman this man is HOT. So hot. Did I mention he's gorgeous? Because he's super fine. Plus, he seems to be ready for action.

I stiffly walk over to the end of the couch and sit down. Pushing myself as far from him as possible. I stare straight at the chair with the socks refusing to turn my attention to him.

"Yes, Mr. Payne, what did you need to see me about?"

I feel the couch move and hear the soft sliding sound of his body moving. Suddenly I feel the heat of him next to me. His finger starts down my thigh to the hem of my black cashmere dress I wore specifically for the party. It hugs my body perfectly, keeps me warm in the Chicago winter and is office appropriate.

"You make this dress." He whispers in my ear as his fingers come to the bottom hem and flutter across my thigh.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I should stop him. I should really stop him.

"Mr. Payne, you're drunk." I continue to stare at his dirty sock, knowing if I look at him I won't stop him.

"Henrik." He whispers.

I nod, "Yes, Henrik. You have been drinking and I don't think ..."

"I don't drink, Morgana."

I turn to look at him. Bad mistake. My nose is only an inch from his. His eyes fall to my mouth and I pull my bottom lip in due to nerves.