Griffin was engaged.
Spots were all that I saw for a few moments, and while I managed to sign my name, I tackled nausea. Before I got into the elevator, I went to the lobby bathroom and threw up. My body was on fire. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. It was me he was supposed to be with! Somehow, I made it through the following days with a smile plastered to my face.
Anger and pain occupied my mind and sat like a heavy brick in the pit of my stomach. It was affecting me in an extreme way and prevented me from carrying out the flirting tasks Griffin had given me. For the rest of the week, I didn’t engage in flirting, and I didn’t try to time things so I’d run into Griffin. All I could think about was the fucking bitch who had stolen him from me.
During the annoying engagement week, I heard a lot of interesting bits of gossip. I learned that the bitch’s name was Kathryn Adams, and she was close to Griffin in age. I overheard some women say that Kathryn dabbled here and there in painting and some other type of artwork. Many said the Kathryn wasn’t in the same social status pond as Griffin. I didn’t dwell on that because, really, I wasn’t either.
Rumors were quietly flying around with the guys about Kathryn not being from this country and how she was using him to gain citizenship through marriage. I’d heard multiple rumors that she was Canadian, but conflicting information that her natural citizenship was from the British Overseas Territories with the Cayman Islands.
Though it pissed me off to have to listen to it, not all of it enraged me or made me want to lash out uncontrollably. Multiple rumors were being spoken by women in hushed tones that Griffin was bi-sexual, and they were disappointed that he picked a woman over a hot, masculine man.
I could be that man! I’m supposed to be that man!
I was elated to hear rumors that Griffin played both sides of the field, but still annoyed as fuck that he was engaged. All week I had mulled over what I wanted to say to Griffin on Friday during my weekly appointment with him. While I wanted to keep things professional and only on business, I was so fucking angry. When I got to his office, though, and my eyes settled on him, the anger ebbed, and I bit the inside of my mouth. We were going over some numbers and goals for the next quarter when Griffin stopped pacing and came over to lean on the front of his desk, just a foot or two away. I tried not to stare at the outline of his cock in his tailored black pants.
“What’s on your mind, Riley?” Griffin asked as his hands molded to the edge of the desk and curled under.
Saying that nothing was on my mind would be a flat out lie, and we both knew that. While I couldn’t insult him by saying nothing, I had to say something.
“With all due respect, I’m a little disappointed in the lack of opportunity for advancement, Mr. Evans,” I muttered.
Fuck! What the fuck did I just say to him?
The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly into a thin, tight smile, and he stared at me with the subtle smirk on his face. He was appalled at what I just said to him, I was sure, but I held my ground. I didn’t backpedal or apologize. Maybe in some fucked up universe, I could get a pay raise and job advancement on the heels of nursing a broken heart from his engagement.
Griffin pushed himself away from the desk and swiftly crossed the room to the closed door. My eyes followed him the entire way, and I’d admit that my pulse picked up when I saw him lock the door. When he returned to me, he wrapped his big hand around my upper arm, pulled me off the chair, and pushed me to the floor on my knees. He towered over me, and I had to tilt my head back slightly to look at him. The look in his eyes was an intoxicating blend of confidence, arrogance, and power.
“Let’s see how dedicated you are at career advancement opportunities, Riley,” Griffin said in an uptight tone as he put his hand on the side of my head. When his fingers stretched and wrapped around the back of my head, I felt myself stiffen in my pants. I had wanted this for so long.
Griffin applied a small amount of pressure to the back of my head, guiding me forward. Willingly, I let his strong hand guide me to his groin. With his palm against the side of my head and his fingers threaded through my hair, I pressed my face against his wool pants. I inhaled his heady scent as he guided my nose over the firm bulge in his pants.
I nudged my nose between the fabric of his pants and his zipper, and with my tongue, I flicked the zipper pull away from the enclosure. Grabbing the zipper pull with my teeth, I tugged it away from his body slightly and lowered it. Griffin nuzzled my face to his groin so I could run my lips along the outline of his cock that was tucked inside his black underwear. He pushed his hand down between my face and his pants to pull out his rigid cock.
Was this actually happening? Everything I’ve wanted for so long was starting to happen.
“I like it rough, Riley. Can you handle rough?” I quickly nodded. I could handle whatever the fuck he would give me. “Open up,” Griffin’s deep voice commanded.
I opened right away and had seconds to acclimate to his length before he thrust it to the
