Page 69 of The Grand Duel
Me?
Us?
The two of us together?
I rock forward, my middle finger sinking into my heat.
I’m wet.
My mouth drops open as I think about my boss, shame still there but buried beneath a veil of arousal. His face is all I can see, even if I didn’t want it to be it would still be him right now. His hands. His stubble which I can’t help but love. His eyes.
When I come, it’s his face I see.
FIFTEEN
Lissie
I’m more than a little bit grateful to find Charles, laptop on lap and head in a file, when I climb into the Land Rover the next morning. I smile at Scott and quietly get situated in my seat.
I came to the conclusion late last night, whilst coming to the conclusion that I wouldn’t be getting any sleep with the guilt ofcomingat the fantasy of my boss, that I need to try dating.
If I have to work with beautiful men day and night and not be able to sleep with any of them, I need to get my fill somehow.
I pull out my laptop and mirror my boss, placing it on my thighs. Opening the email from Jove, I scan the page and then click the link to the dating site.
I peer across at Mr Aldridge’s screen as I wait for it to load, squinting to get a look at what seems to be a list.
What’s he always working on when we’re on the road? It’s not even the laptop he uses in meetings. It seems like a personal one.
He must see me peeking and shifts a little. I look up at him to find him glaring at me.
My face is instantly on fire.
“You’re looking awfully happy this morning, Mr Aldridge,” I say sarcastically.
He sighs and continues his typing.
“Would you mind if I check my personal emails whilst we travel? I don’t have anything in my inbox to reply to.”
He nods, choosing to remain mute.
I smile. After losing a little part of myself to the man’s face last night, I’ve never been more thankful for his silence.
I look back at my screen and click the sign-up button, eyeing the first question.
First Name:Lissie
Last Name:…
“Crap.” I chew on my lip as I consider what to go with. There’s not many Eltons in London, and if I throw up a picture of my face, there’s a chance someone might recognise me and put two and two together.
Charles did.
I’m not famous. But I am unfortunately an Elton.
I look across at the man next to me, noticing his typing has stopped, his long fingers capturing my attention.
He has such big heavy hands.