Work For Me

"A fox?" she questioned as he carried her through a corridor and into his office. Thankfully, they had entered through the back entrance.

"Hmm. A female fox can sound like a distressed person," he explained.

"Seriously?" She wiped away her tears, attempting to conceal her face. She didn't want to frighten the poor guy half to death.

"Yes, they emit a similar cry when they're looking to mate."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I assure you, I'm not." He gently placed her on the couch and perched himself on the old coffee table in front of her. He handed her the box of tissues from beside him.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking a few tissues.

He observed as she tidied herself up, which was quite embarrassing. Once she finished, she scanned the room for a trash bin.

"What are you searching for?"

"Um, somewhere to dispose of these tissues."

He extended his hand towards her. She glanced down at it, wondering what he wanted. A high-five? Strange, but alright.

She slapped her hand against his.

"What was that?"

"A high-five. That's what you wanted, right?"

"I wanted the tissues."

"Why would you want the tissues? They're used."

"To throw them away in the bin."

Oh dear. There was no hope for her. Absolutely none.

“I can throw them in the garbage.”

“Elle.”

It was all he said.

It was enough. After all, she’d just given him an unwanted high-five. If it hadn’t been for falling over on stage while wearing next to nothing, this would be the most embarrassing thing to happen to her.

“It’s all right, I’ll just hold on to them.”

“Elle. Give me the tissues.”

She handed them over. There was no denying him when he used that tone.

And that tone was bossy and hot.

She was a total goner.

“Where are your gloves?” Gomez asked with a frown as he took the tissues, throwing them into a bin that she hadn’t seen from her angle.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find them before I left the house.”

He eyed her. “You went outside in February in Montana without gloves?”

He made it sound like she’d gone outside while naked. That had nearly happened once. She’d missed putting out the garbage bin the night before. Oh, she’d had panties on, but still . . . she was grateful she’d realized her error when she’d opened the doors and the cool air hit her nipples.

“I’ve lost you again.”

“What? I’m here. I’m good.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. Are you good?” It was nice to ask people how they were doing, right?

“What I am is angry.”

“You are?”

He didn’t look or sound angry.

“I am.”

“You don’t look it,” she told him.

“Then you’ll have to take my word for it. I am upset. With you.”

Ouch. That felt like a punch to the gut.

“Mr. Gomez—” she started to say.

“It’s just Gomez.”

“Oh. Uh, that’s not what you told Lucy.”

He just looked at her. “That’s for Lucy. For you, it’s just Gomez.”

That turned the pain in her stomach into something warmer that filled her whole body.

“All right, Gomez. Why are you upset with me?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, turning her words from earlier back on her.

“Um, no,” she said. “Why are you mad?”

“You left.”

“Oh. But you left first.”

Lame, Elle. Really lame.

Lord, she really could use some jelly beans right now. And a hug from Slowly. And some painkillers.

“I left, but I was coming back. Were you coming back?” he asked.

“I might have been?”

“I believe we have discussed lying. What did I say to you before I left?”

“It was more like what did you order me before you left.”

“Yes, it was,” he replied calmly. “And what did I order you?”

“To stay here and not move.”

“Did you stay?”

“Um, no.”

“You disobeyed me.”

Damn, he had this whole stern professor thing going on right now.

And she could be the naughty college student . . . uh-uh, no. Stop, Elle. This was not the time for her imagination to run wild on her.

“Elle? Why did you leave?” he asked.

“Well, I didn’t see much point in staying. I didn’t get the job and I need to get home.” So she could scour the internet for another job. Or bus tickets for her and Brooks to get to Wanton, Wyoming.

Yep, that was really the name of the town where April lived.

Pretty awesome.

“You didn’t see much point in staying?” he repeated.

“Um, yeah.”

“What about the fact that I still needed to check whether you were well enough to move around by yourself?”

Uh. Right.

Now she felt terrible.

It wouldn’t have hurt her to wait around a few minutes for him to return.

Except . . . he’d been gone a while and she’d grown more embarrassed with each passing second.

“And that I came back expecting to see you where I put you.”

Okay, she wasn’t feeling so terrible now. In fact, she was feeling kind of mad.

"Where did you place me?" she whispered softly.

"Yes, Twinkletoes, where I placed you." He leaned in closer, causing her heart to race at his proximity.

Not out of fear. Not out of anger.

No, it was a different feeling altogether, making her squeeze her thighs together as desire pulsed through her.

"I don't think I have to remain where you placed me if I don't belong to you."

He leaned back, and she longed for his face to be near hers again, missing the sight of those brown specks in his striking green eyes.

Darn it. Why did she have to say that?

"What if you worked for me? Would you still have to stay where I placed you then?"

A shiver ran down her spine.

"You're still cold," he remarked, mistaking her shiver. "You shouldn't be out in this weather without gloves. Or a scarf. Or a hat. Or even ill-fitting shoes, for that matter."

He stood up, opened a cupboard behind his desk, and retrieved a soft, deep blue blanket.