Absolutely nothing.
It was a kind gesture. It’s not his fault Melissa thought it was something else. Melissa’s attitude is the problem here, not Nate.
“Am I making too much of this?” I lick the edge of the spoon, removing the last bit of yogurt from it. “I mean, she did say I was qualified, but she has to have had other qualified applicants as well. Would I have gotten the job if she didn’t think I was banging the king of the east side?”
Banging Nate.
I can’t stop the fantasy that begins to flow through my mind. Nate taking me into his arms, reaching down and pulling up my skirt as he presses his mouth against mine. He picks me up, my legs wrapped around his waist. I dig my fingers into his hair as he rips his jeans open with one hand and shoves me up against the wall…
My face feels hot, my hands are sweating, and my clit is absolutely throbbing.
Yep. Too many romance novels.
I clench my hands into fists, initially trying to fight off the feeling. I give up the conflict quickly and race to my bedroom, tossing the phone onto the blanket covering my bed and pulling up my skirt. I grab the small pink vibrator out of the nightstand drawer and continue the fantasy.
I gasp as I think of his hands gripping my ass, his mouth on my nipples, and his cock buried deep inside of me. I can feel his hot breath on my shoulder, and I hear him cry out my name…
“Oh, Nate!”
I freeze, unable to breathe for a moment as the orgasm begins to build inside of me. I’m so close. I run the fingers of my free hand over my nipple. Nearly there…
“BING!”
I startle, drop the vibe, and the mounting pressure is abruptly gone.
“Ugh!”
I grab the phone, nearly throw it against the wall, and then see it’s a text from Nate.
Of course it is.
Nate O: How did the interview go?
I’m panting and my hands are shaking. My mind is racing. I want to finish myself off, but I also want to reply to him. I want to rub the phone over my pussy and come to the words on the screen.
“Good lord,” I mumble. “You are a mess.”
I sigh heavily, head to the bathroom to wash my hands, and then come back to the phone to answer him.
How should I answer, and why is he even asking? He probably already knows that I have the job. In fact, he knew that before I even showed up for the interview. He knew before I even called about the job. I narrow my eyes a bit.
It went very well, as I’m sure you already know.
It takes only a moment for him to respond.
Nate O: Guilty as charged. I hope you aren’t upset about that.
Am I upset? Perturbed, maybe, but not really mad. How different is what he did from my Aunt Ginny’s playing bridge with the librarian who hired me? The result is the same, but those people had known my Aunt Ginny and me since I was a child, and Nate doesn’t know me at all, not really.
I type out a carefully worded reply.
A little. I did need a job, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I suppose I should say thank you.
There—appreciative but not a pushover. That works.
Nate O: You are very welcome. Glad I could help out. I’d love to take you out for a celebratory dinner this weekend, if you’d allow me.
“Oh. Wow.” I lick my lips. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me out this soon or so candidly. “Or are you reading too much into it again?”
Only one way to be sure.
Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Orso?
I hold my breath.
Nate O: Yes, Miss Bay, I am.
My heart beats faster. In my head, I’m screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” but my fingers are feeling a bit coyer.
What if I say no?
As soon as I press send, I regret it. Am I trying to play hard to get? If so, why the hell am I doing that?
Nate O: Then I will be forced to drown my sorrows alone.
“Ah, shit! His brother-in-law!” I’d totally forgotten about the death in his family, and now I feel like a complete ass. I need to make up for it but still keep the mood light.
I suppose I agree then. Drowning would surely ruin your suit.
“Ugh! Why did you mention suits? It will make him think of funeral attire.” I hit myself in the forehead, debating if I should apologize, but he replies first.
Nate O: It just might. While I have other suits, I’m glad you’ve agreed to dinner. Friday at 7 work for you?
Friday night. Did we have to wait so long? I probably would agree to fifteen minutes from now. Such a pushover!
I don’t have my work schedule yet. I should get it tomorrow. I’ll have to let you know.
Nate O: Please do, Miss Bay. I’d be happy to work around your schedule.
Wait a minute—how does he know my last name? I was sure I had only given him my first name, and I hadn’t used a credit card at the club, so how does he know?
I’m about to ask him, but then I realize Melissa probably told him. Again, I’m reading too much into things and giving in to my
