Sweet Like Honey

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4

I couldn't help but be curious. He's on his way? To where? I sincerely hope didn't fuck anyone's husband, but if I did, lord help me, I didn't know.

Damn.

"I didn't see a ring," I hint.

He doesn't look at me. "I'm not married."

Well, assuming he's not lying I didn't fuck anyone's husband. But I may have fucked their man.

They should watch him. He's smooth, and he works hard. Fine ass.

"Girlfriend?" I ask.

"You didn't break my vow of loyalty to anyone by having sex with me, Jessie. I am not in an type of relationship. Committed or otherwise."

I nod. So he's single? Then who was he talking to? It's not my business, I know it's not, but—if I minded my own business, who's gonna mind his?

He's a busy man, and he's single. Nobody's minding his business, I'm being helpful.

He glanced at me. "Try to contain your curiosity," he chuckled. "You look you might burst."

He stops, making me look up. "We have arrived, Jessie."

Damn it. Not today I guess. "Thank you, Benji."

"It's—"

"I know." I state, getting out of the car. "Thank you. For everything," I lean into the passenger window. "I really appreciate it."

He just smiled. "Then work hard for me."

I salute him, standing.

He waits. I hurry to the door, shutting it, as he pulls away. I touch my chest.

Holy shit. I think I like him. This is bullshit. Utter bullshit.

No. I am not even going to consider this. I'm going to pack this in my shit suit case. Yes. I'm going to pack it in shit suitcase, and stuff it in my never think about it closet.

Because this—means nothing.

It's just shit I never think about. I drink some wine and pass out on my bed with my makeup on like an idiot.

Yes, I'll breakout later, but I'm not great at good choices, so...

There we are.

• • •

I've got to make better choices. I wipe my makeup off, cleaning my face in the shower. My eyes burn, and my mascara ran.

I get dressed for work, and head out. I have a lot to learn during my temporary time, and I have my eyes on a very sexy pair of boots that have been calling my name.

I will keep this job.

I go up into the elevator, going to the first floor.

I walk past the pods to his office. I knock twice.

"Come in," he orders.

I open the door, stepping in, shutting it behind me.

"Mr. Percy."

"Look around you," he orders not looking up from his papers.

"Benji."

He looks up with a smile. "Good morning, Jessie. You're early. I like that. Let's get started."

So he trains me. The position was Social Media Marketing . Of course I have a degree in social media marketing, but I don't really have hands on experience. Yet.

But now I will.

"All right, how would you market this?" He asked.

I frown. "First narrow down the target audience,"

"Good."

"Then, find out what the audience wants most from this type of product and market towards that."

He smiles. "You don't really need me, huh?"

I grin. "Well, I did pay 120,000 dollars, and spent more than four years of my life to do this job. I know how to do it well."

"Then I'll leave you to your decides. You're still on probation, so you'll need to stay in my office for the time being," he grins. "You understand."

"Perfectly."

"Work hard, Jessie," he stands, passing by me. "I know that you can," he says lowly.

I swallow roughly."Yes, sir."

He just smiled, going to his own desk, beginning to work.

I do my work, I do. But every once in a while, I lift my eyes up and catch him looking focused, and—does he really have a right to be that attractive?

I don't think so. I think his rights should be revoked . I do.

You're gorgeous.

I clear my throat. He glanced up. "Are you alright?"

I nod.

Do you like when I touch you there?

Oh shit. Not now. His lips lift up in a small smirk. "Are you sure? Anything I can do to help?"

Move against me like that. Good.

I stand abruptly. "Actually, can I take a break?"

He nods. "Feel free. You have 45 minutes a day, and an hour lunch. Take your breaks as you see fit."

I nod, stepping away from my desk and toward the door.

"Be careful," he calls after me lowly, "You don't seem steady on your feet."

He knows exactly what he's doing.

"Of course, Sir."

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