Page 37 of Boss Abroad

As you can see, quite an eventful day.

My phone was never returned, so thanks for the new one.

You didn’t have to do that.

Fuck’s sake. I went from not knowing what to write to having a monologue.

L:

I was expecting that thank you in person. You can say it tomorrow night then.

A:

The answer is still no. You’re still my boss.

L:

I must say I’ve never seen someone so intent on getting fired.

I laugh out loud, making my way to the bedroom and throwing myself on the bed. I start biting into a fingernail. My laughs come too easy for this man.

A:

You wouldn’t. You need me.

L:

That is exactly my problem. I do need you. And texting is not what I expected to be doing with my hands tonight.

Oh.

L:

And if you insist on knowing, whiskey is a poor substitute for what I intended to feast on.

I’m damned. Of course he can dirty talk and dirty text too.

L:

I appreciate you leaving me a sample behind, though.

I don’t have to wonder what he’s talking about for long. The phone pings with a picture of the panties he ripped from my body and I abandoned at his office during my escape today.

The photo shows my destroyed white lacy lingerie between his teeth. Such a good contrast to his olive skin and beard. He’s shirtless, laying down on a bed covered with white linen and I can see a bit of his naked shoulders.

I make futile attempts to scroll down and curse at the fact that I can’t see the rest of his body. I gulp and squeeze my thighs together. My mind is blank right when I need to think fast, to type back something, anything, to hide how bothered he’s gotten me.

A:

Wow. You should take photography as a hobby.

Fuck, that was lame. I facepalm myself so hard, it’s basically a slap.

L:

Oh. I can do videos too.

That, on the other hand, wasn’t.