Live, Laugh, Loathe

Chapter 7: Damon

I'm going insane.

That's the only explanation for my behavior over the last two weeks.

It has taken all of my self-control to not touch her. My hands literally ache when she's near. Yesterday? She was wearing those fucking red pants again, and I wanted to yank her against my chest and hold her there with a hand gripping each of her ass cheeks. I could see it so clearly that I ended up sitting on my hands just to keep them to myself.

I thought I would explode from anger when I realized she remembered me from that night and was messing with me. It was so unprofessional. But then, the longer I thought about it, the more I wanted revenge. Screw handling this like an adult. Only now, this whole thing has backfired for us both. I know she's turned on just as much as I am, her nipples are constantly hard, and her face permanently flushed. Even though there's an evil grin in her eye every morning, I can tell she isn't sleeping well. My poor treadmill might fall apart; I've been using it so much.

Because I refuse to relieve myself to thoughts of her. Regardless of this stupid game we're playing, she's still my subordinate, and it's wrong.

My dick and balls are about ready to fall off.

But I'm committed to keeping my hands to myself and ending whatever this is, and it has to end for both our sanities.

And that plan is promptly thrown out the window when I arrive at the office this morning and find Brad, from Finance, flirting with Drew. He's doing that half-seated lean against her desk, leaning forward, apparently telling a joke. She throws her head back and laughs, much like she did that night I saw her across the club. My chest burns at the sight.

As I approach, her attention turns to me, and I see the slight smirk that appears when our eyes meet. I must not look pleased because when Brad turns and sees me, he instantly snaps to attention.

"Anyways, Drew, I'll chat with you later." She cheerily waves him off, pointedly not looking at me as I pass to my office.

I've never been a jealous man; I've always believed that monogamy was situation-specific and not every relationship required it. But when it comes to Drew? The thought of her even being friendly with another man makes my blood boil. What is it about her that makes me act so out of character? First, acting like an ass at the nightclub, then these last few weeks of sexual warfare with a subordinate. This isn't me.

We have a light morning, so I close my door loudly and sit brooding. We have a call at ten, but instead of joining me in my office like usual, Drew stays at her desk and dials in; I can barely make out the sound of her typing through the phone line. I don't like this.

By lunch, I'm calm. Well, calmer. So, when Drew quietly knocks on my door with my food, I don't feel completely out of control. She hesitates only a moment at the door before making the trek to my desk and depositing my meal somewhat unceremoniously.

"Are you done pouting?" Her voice sounds both annoyed and amused, and I'm so startled that she's directly addressing this thing between us that I look up sharply. She has one perfectly sexy eyebrow raised, and I'm flooded with the desire to put her over my knee and spank her. Which tanks my mood completely.

"The only person acting inappropriately here is you, Drew. I pay you to work, not flirt with other staff members." My voice sounds so cold that I flinch internally. Not exactly how I wanted that to come out.

Her expression turns dark, and she opens her mouth several times as if to speak but doesn't. Instead, she storms out of my office, closing my door quietly behind her. That was so much worse than slamming it.