Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

DENNIS' POV

The spot next to me in bed was empty when I woke up the next day.

The man from last night was gone.

The sheets were messed up. 

They still felt warm.

It hadn't been long he left.

I stayed there for a second, just looking up at the ceiling with a slight headache.

I was trying hard to remember bits of what had happened on this drunken night.

Things popped into my head. 

I recalled the drinks. 

I also remembered talking and laughing with him about real honest stuff.

You know, the kind that only hits when you have had to many to drink.

I remembered the dance.

And I definitely remembered all the seven postions he had put me in last night.

It had been magnificent.

I looked over at the nightstand expecting there to be a note or something. 

There was nothing.

Everywhere was silent.

I rubbed my head. 

My mouth was dry and inside of it tasted like expired stale old booze. 

Then I noticed my phone lighting up with all of the messages that I had missed. 

I checked the time.

7:30am.

That's when the panic hit me hard.

I had only thirty minutes left of I wanted to make it to work today at all. 

I jumped out of bed.

I would most likely be late if I decided to make a stop by at my place.

"Shit," I said out loud. 

I had pulled myself up too fast and now my head was pounding terribly.

A hangover.

It was annoying—like all the dumb choices from last night were banging inside.

I had no choice.

I had to get to work. 

I still needed the job.

I have bills to pay.

I helped myself to the bathroom of the room and made myself presentable.

An Uber took me to work.

I got there, kind of stumbling in. 

8:51am.

I had a meeting.

It had started by eight am.

I told myself that I could handle this if I just closed my office door fast.

I pened the bottom drawer of my desk and felt relieve at the sight of an extra shirt folded up.

It was not laundry clean or anything. 

But it was clean enough to get by.

I took off the wrinkled one from last night that smelt of sex, sin and Dominic.

Then I slipped on the spare. 

I tucked it in real quick.

I took a quick look at myself in the dark screen of the computer system.

My hair looked like a bird nest.

I immediately tried fixing my hair in order to look more professional.

I didn't look too bad. 

At least I didn't look like I had just rolled out of a stranger's bed. 

Even if that's what happened.

I was about to go out.

But, I halted.

My breathe. 

It still had that booze smell hanging on.

I cursed again quietly as I turned and went back to my desk. 

I rummaged through the deck it drawers until I found a bottle of mint gum. 

I opped two pieces into my mouth and began chewing hard on it. 

The flavour filled my mouth as I grabbed the little air freshener on my desk.

I sprayed some on my shirt and hair. 

Now I smelt like lavender with a little alcohol—that should be adequate.

I let out a shaky breath and prepared to head out. 

Then I heard a voice from outside the door.

"Dennis."

I looked up just as it opened.

It was the head of department. 

His face had that usual glare.

"You were supposed to be here by 8 AM on the dot, to welcome the new department head." 

His voice was cold, the kind he used whenever he was angry. 

"It's almost 9 AM now," he growled.

My stomach twisted.

"I...sir, I didn't know. I will go right away," I stammered a lame excuse.

He crossed his arm at my lie. 

I knew I looked pathetic now.

"You will come with me. This isn't the kind of impression we can afford."

I swallowed hard. 

There were no good excuses that came to my mind.

So, I just followed him down the hall.

I was nervous as we moved.

We got to the new office.

He pushed open the door after a knock and an invitation to come in.

The guy inside had his back to us, staring out the window. 

There was something about how he stood and his shoulders that was familiar.

It rang a bell in my head. 

But, I couldn't place my hand on why exactly.

The management head cleared his throat. 

"Mr Dominic Rivera, this is Dennis Talker, a senior associate here. He will be working closely with you."

My ears pricked at what I heard.

Dominic.

Like the Dominic from last night?

I prayed to heaven that I was wrong.

The man turned around.

My blood ran cold.

It was him. 

The guy from last night.

The same one I had told everything over those glasses of whiskey.

The same one I had been ranting about my bad luck, the promotion I missed. 

The same one I informed of how the new boss would probably be some spoilt brat incapable of anything.

The same one that had fucked me till I spilled cum everywhere.

The same one who had dicked me down into the soft mattress repeatedly and asked me to cum for him.

And I had done so.

The same Dominic.

My heart dropped to the tiled floor.

I had spilled everything yesterday about the supposed new guy at my job.

The regret that washed over me as I realized I had been insulting him to his face all that while was instantaneous.

He was the supposed spoiled brat.

And he was my boss.

Now the spoilt brat just stood there, smirking at me devilishly.

Something in his steel blue eyes told me that he knew this was coming.

I couldn't move.

My brain was yelling at me to say something, anything at all.

But nothing came out. 

"You can leave," he dismissed the management head.

The man nodded quick and left. 

And it was just us now.

The silence stretched. 

My heart was racing loudly in my ears and both of my hands became sweaty.

Dominic didn't even seem mad.

It seemed more like he was enjoying it from the calm expression on his face.

And the curve of a smirk at the corner of his mouth made my heart race.

I could tell he liked being in charge. 

He liked that he had me cornered. 

He reached his hands into his pocket slowly and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

My heart sank. 

I felt the blood drain from my face.

I knew it right away.

That paper had my handwriting from last night with my name and number. 

And damn it, there was also a little heart that was drawn in one corner.

I remembered when I had written that and slipped it into his pocket.

It was right before we had headed up to his VIP room at the bar.

“Incase you need to contact me later,” I recall whispering sultrily.

A groan left my lips at the sight of it and I nearly face palmed in shame.

Dominic's lips curved into a teasing smile as he still held the paper up.

"Dennis Talker, I have to say, your handwriting looks really nice." 

He dragged each word.

I didn't need anyone to tell me.

There was no redemption for me.

I was doomed.