Page 86 of Filthy Hot Escort
“What are you doing here, Julian?” she said quietly.
His grin slowly faded, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say something momentous. Instead, he shrugged and walked toward her desk. “I couldn’t get ahold of you tonight. That meant I either scared you off or you were at work. I decided to try optimism for once. And figured if you were still at work, you’d likely forgotten to eat. So here I am.” He sat the delivery bag of food on her desk.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She had several missed messages from “J.”
J: I want to see you.
J: Let’s get dinner.
J: I’m hungry, and not just for food.
J: You need to eat, and I need to eat you.
J: Skylar, respond. An eggplant emoji will do just fine.
J: Fine. I know you’re starving for food and for my dick, so I’m bringing dinner to you. My dick will come along, naturally. Consider it dessert.
Feeling a blush crawl up her neck, she said, “I turned the sound off my phone during my last meeting and must have forgotten to turn it back on when I came back to my office,” she said.
“It’s fine,” he said. “But I am, once again, starving. What do you say we dig in before we move on to dessert?”
She stared at him, wanting to forget how she’d felt when she’d thought he was ghosting her but not able to.
You need to be more careful, Skylar. You can’t do anything with Julian until you’re in a place where you know his walking away won’t hurt you.
She wasn’t sure she was in that place anymore
“Look, Julian, this is really a nice gesture,” she said. “But I’m not hungry and—”
The end of her sentence was interrupted by a massive rumbling in her stomach. It was obvious by Julian’s victorious smile that he’d heard it.
“Your stomach just announced to all of Manhattan that you’re a liar.”
What else could she say?
“Fine. A quick bite. A really quick bite and no dessert. It’s . . . it’s far too late for that,” she said like an imbecile, but Julian just shrugged, his eyes twinkling.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
42
“I’m not your boss,” Skylar grumbled as she leaned across the desk for the delivery bag, only for Julian to tug the bag out of reach.
“You sure? Because you sure as hell bossed me around in our private room in the strip club. Or have you forgotten?”
She blushed so hard she was amazed she didn’t catch fire. Thankfully, Julian chose that moment to push back his chair and stand. “What the—where are you going?” she asked.
He lifted a pile of folders off her desk to move them to the ground. “You’ll see.”
“Julian, those are important documents. And confidential.”
He ignored her outburst as he continued to remove things from her desk: her flip calendar, her mug filled with pens and paper clips and rubber bands, the picture frame Rex gave her that she’d never found the time to switch out the stock photo.
“Hello?” Skylar stood and waved her hands in front of Julian’s face. “What are youdoing? And are you planning on putting all that back when you’re done with . . . whatever?”
Julian finally glanced over at her as he lifted her entire computer, dragging the attached keyboard along with it, up and off her desk.
This was getting ridiculous. Skylar crossed her arms over her chest and stamped her foot. “Julian!”