Under Her

by Samantha Towle

  I glanced down at my body, suddenly seeing myself through their eyes…his eyes.

  Tears started to blur my vision, and I swiped a hand over my eyes. I hated them both in that moment…and myself for letting them get to me like that.

  And for having a crush on such an asshole.

  An asshole who only cared about the physical size of a girl and had no qualms over kicking me out of my room with no regard for where I would be sleeping tonight just so he could get laid.

  Those two things told me everything I needed to know about Wilder Cross.

  The bang of the door in the lecture hall brings my eyes to it, as it does everyone else in here.

  It’s Wilder, arriving late for our lecture. His arm is slung around the shoulders of a girl who’s not Tori. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen her in this lecture before. He probably just picked her up outside.

  She’s definitely under a size four, so I guess she won’t be shown the door.

  Meow. Saucer of milk needed in the front row for yours truly.

  I will not let Wilder’s idiot comment from last night bother me. I don’t care what he thinks about me.

  Only that’s a lie, and I do care.

  Wilder strides through the lecture hall, heading for the seats, with his minus-four companion in tow. Neither of them apologizes to our professor for their tardiness.

  Assholes.

  But, even still, my eyes track him without my permission.

  Without warning, he looks straight over at me, like he felt me staring at him.

  Heat rises in my cheeks, but I don’t look away. I let all my anger into my eyes.

  I want him to know that I’m pissed at him for last night.

  I see a whisper of confusion cross his brow, like he can’t figure out why I’m annoyed with him.

  The fact that he can’t remember annoys me even more. The moment—no, I was so insignificant for him that he can’t even remember.

  My hands curl into fists, and my pulse starts to throb in my neck.

  I want him to remember. And I want him to feel bad.

  I watch in those seconds that feel like hours, hoping for a hint of an apology in his eyes. Hell, I’d even take guilt.

  But I get neither.

  I get something, but honestly, I’d rather have had his ignorance.

  Because do you know what the bastard does?

  He smirks and winks at me.

  My heart falls into the pit of my stomach, and hurt and embarrassment fill me.

  And that is the exact moment that I stop crushing on Wilder Cross and start hating on him instead.

  The meeting finished half an hour ago. I was dressed in a clean shirt and suit. Thank God I keep spares in my office. Never thought I’d need them for that reason though.

  The announcement about Morgan and me was made, and Morgan stood up to introduce herself to everyone. I’m pretty sure she told everyone where she was from and regaled her previous job history to them along with what she hoped to achieve here, but I didn’t absorb a word because, honestly, I was stuck in my head, silently fuming over the shirt incident.

  I swear, it’s like someone has it out for me.

  I mean, who in the hell writes a note about how great the sex was? Granted, it was great because, hello, this is me we’re talking about. But, writing that and her phone number on the back of my shirt, it’s just crazy behavior.

  Whatever happened to just slipping a guy your number on a piece of paper? Is writing on the guy’s clothes a new thing? I hope to fuck not. Thank God I won’t be seeing that chick again.

  I could really have done without that happening the first time I saw Morgan after all these years.

  She looked at me like I was the same piece of shit that she’d thought I was in college, and I can’t blame her.

  I didn’t get a chance to explain, not that my explanation would have had me coming off sounding great, because my mom ushered her out of the office, leaving me with Chrissy and my dad, who thought it was highly fucking amusing. I bet he won’t be laughing about it to my mom though.

  I know for sure that I’m in for a lecture from my mom.

  Aside from the side-eyed stares she kept giving me during the meeting, I was treated to the look right before she and Dad left to go to their meeting with their broker.

  But I’ll deal with Mom later.

  Right now, I need to speak to Morgan.

  I wanted to talk to her after the meeting was done, but I couldn’t get her alone for a second. Then, I had to take a business call on my cell, so I stepped out of the conference room, and when I came back, she was gone. I asked Chrissy if she knew where Morgan was, and Chrissy told me she was up in her new office, checking it out.

  So, here I am, on my way to her office. Tail between my legs. Figuratively. Because my actual tail is very keen on getting between her legs.

  But that’s never going to happen.

  A: Because she probably still thinks I’m the same prick that she thought I was nine years ago.

  And B: We work together now. She might be on my level managerially, but ultimately, this company is going to be mine one day, so in an indirect way, that makes her an employee.

  The door to Morgan’s office is open when I approach. She’s got her back to me, staring out the window.

  Her office used to belong to Dennis Walsh. He was Deputy CEO. He died suddenly a year and a half ago of a heart attack. My parents never refilled his position, and his office has stood empty ever since. They just distributed his work between themselves and me. He’d worked for them forever, and he’d been a good friend to them, so it hit them hard, losing him. It hit us all hard.

  So, it’s a little weird to see Morgan standing in here, in his office. I half-expect to hear the sound of Dennis’s big, booming laughter.

  The office is bare, except for Dennis’s old desk and chair.

  She’ll need new furniture.

  “You like the view?” I say in a soft voice so as not to startle her.

  I see her back stiffen at the sound of my voice, which isn’t a good sign, and then she looks at me over her shoulder before turning to face me.

  “It’s stunning.”

  So are you. The thought pops into my head out of nowhere.

  But I’m right. She is stunning.

  “You’re going to need new furniture.” I gesture to the sparse space.

  Her eyes move around. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll get my PA, Chrissy, to email you the link to the website of the office supplier we use. Just pick out what you need and let Chrissy know, and she’ll have it here for you when you start on Monday.”

  “That’ll be great. Thanks.”

  There’s a brief lull of silence between us.

  “Has my mom mentioned anything about hiring a PA for you?” I ask her.

  She nods. “Yes. Your mom lined up some interviews for me, so I should be sorted soon.”

  “Good…great.”

  We slip into that goddamn silence again.

  I just need to say what I came here to say and then get out of here.

  “Look, Morgan…” I rub a hand over my hair. “What happened earlier in my office…what you saw on the back of my shirt—”

  “Is none of my business,” she cuts me off.

  “I know, but I just want you to know that’s not the norm for me. I’m never usually late or unprofessional in that way. It was just…” I can’t exactly tell her that I was out, drinking at a bar, because I was freaking out over her starting work here and taking half of my job.

  “Honestly, you don’t have to explain, Wilder.”

  The way she says my name, it’s like hearing it for the first time. Sure, she must’ve said my name to me in college, but it never felt like this. Like a cattle prod to the spine, sparking my dick to life. Well, not that he seems to be asleep in her presence, but you know what I mean. Seriously though, I would have for sure remembered if hearing her say my name back in college made me feel that way. I�
��d have found a way to get her to like me, so I could have screwed her. Shallow bastard that I am.

  “I think I do.” I take a breath. “I know that we didn’t get along great in college—”

  “Didn’t we?” She tilts her head. The amusement dancing in her eyes surprises me.

  I let loose a smile on my lips. “Come on, Morgan, we both know I wasn’t your favorite person back then, and you didn’t exactly make that fact unknown to me.”

  She laughs, and the sound runs through my veins like alcohol in my bloodstream.

  “Okay,” she concedes, “I didn’t like you. But you didn’t like me either.”

  I cock my head. “I liked you just fine—well, in the beginning until you incorrectly decided that I was an overprivileged prick and started hating on me.”

  The humor fades from her eyes, and I know I said the wrong thing and took us back a step.

  She presses her lips together, like she’s holding back from saying something, and before whatever words she’s fighting back can get out, I jump in.

  “Look, this isn’t coming out right.” I rub a hand over my face. “What I’m trying to say is, whatever happened back then or what we thought of each other doesn’t matter. We’re different people now. College was forever ago. Neither of us knows the 2017 versions of each other, and I would really like for us to wipe the slate clean and start fresh from here.”

  “When you say ‘wipe the slate clean,’ do you mean, forget the sex note on the back of your shirt, too?”

  “Jesus.” I shake my head. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

  Her lips twitch, like she’s fighting a smile. “Probably not.”

  “In all seriousness, I just want you to know that’s the first time anything like that has ever happened to me. It was just one of those screwup kind of days that happened on the worst day.”

  Her brows knit together. “Me starting today is your worst day?”

  “No!” Yes. Kind of. “No, I mean—”

  “Wilder.”

  “What?”

  “I’m messing with you.” She smiles.

  “Oh. Right. Okay.” I jam my hands in my pants pockets. “Well, anyway, I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened before, and I do always keep my personal life away from work. I’m all business when I’m here.”

  “Me, too,” she says.

  “That’s good then—that we’re on the same page.” I free my hands from my pockets and walk toward her. My heart rate picks up, the closer I get to her.

  She smells feminine, floral and sweet. Like a bouquet of flowers. I want to bury my head in her neck and taste that scent on the tip of my tongue.

  I put my hand out to her. “Clean slate,” I say, staring straight into her big doe eyes.

  She blinks once and then glances down at my hand before looking back up to meet me. She slips her hand into mine. Her hand is soft, and I’m desperately trying not to wonder how that hand would feel around my cock.

  “Hi, clean slate. I’m Morgan Stickford.”

  “Wilder Cross.” I grin and shake her hand, thinking that Morgan working here might not be the worst thing in the world after all.

  It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m knee deep in work when there’s a tap at my door.

  I look up from my computer screen to see Morgan standing in my office doorway. She’s looking exceptionally, torturously gorgeous in a black pencil skirt with a deep red silk shirt tucked into it, showing off her tiny waist and her more-than-a-handful rack. To top off my torment, her lips are painted the same shade as her shirt, and she’s wearing black come-fuck-me heels on her feet. Her hair is pinned up, begging for me to free it and run my fingers through it while I fuck her senseless over my desk.

  Jesus. I really need to get laid.

  And I really need to stop thinking of her in a sexual way.

  “Hey.” I smile. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry to interrupt. Your mom said you have the file on Buxom. I was hoping to take it home this weekend, so I can become familiar with them.”

  Buxom is one of our largest distributors.

  We have stores across the country, but we also have in-store distributors in cities where we don’t have a physical store.

  She chews on her lip, like she’s nervous for some reason, and it’s doing no good for my self-control.

  No sex with coworkers. No sex with coworkers.

  I clearly need to keep repeating that to myself when I’m around Morgan, as my dick doesn’t seem to be getting the message.

  “Sure.” I get up from my chair and go to get the file off the shelf. I walk over to her and hand her the file.

  “Thanks,” she says, holding it to her chest.

  She’s still lingering in my doorway, so I lean back against my desk to face her.

  “How’s your first week been?” I ask her.

  “Really great.” She gives me a smile, flashing me those straight white teeth of hers.

  “My mom’s not overloading you with information, is she? She’s awesome, but she has a tendency to forget that not everyone knows as much about this company as she does.”

  “No, she’s been great. I like her a lot. And your dad, too.”

  “Yeah, they’re both pretty awesome.”

  “Must feel strange for you—them retiring. After working here with them for so long.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be strange, but I’m looking forward to the challenge of running this company. With your help, of course,” I add.

  “Of course.” Her lips quirk at the corner. She leans her shoulder against the doorframe. “Look, I heard something today, and I don’t know if it’s just office gossip, but I wanted to check. You were originally supposed to run the company yourself, and then your parents recruited me to work with you, as they felt you needed a female counterbalance, but they didn’t tell you until I was actually hired.”

  Irritation flashes through me. I cross a leg over my other and fold my arms as I take a breath. “That’s pretty much it, yeah.”

  Her shoulders sag a little. “Okay, well, I just wanted you to know that I didn’t know. I mean, your parents didn’t keep anything from me when they offered me the job. I knew I’d be working with you, but I wasn’t aware that you didn’t know.”

  “You knew you’d be working with me, yet you still took the job?” I lilt my voice, so she knows I’m teasing, and honestly, I’m ready to move the conversation away from the subject. It’s still a sore one with me.

  “Shocker, huh?” She widens her eyes. “But, honestly, the pay package and benefits were way too good to refuse.”

  That makes me chuckle. “You were at Oscars before here. Managing Director of Marketing, right?”

  Oscars is a female clothing company.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ve done well for yourself since college.”

  She shrugs, as if dismissing my words. “So have you.”

  I don’t know if that’s a dig or not, so I choose to go with the latter, and I’m right to do so because she follows it with, “I heard that you went to Columbia after Northwestern. Then, you started here, in the bottom ranks, and worked your way up to where you are now.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Your mom.” She smiles. “She also said that you probably had it harder than any employee here, as you felt you had to prove that you’d earned everything and you weren’t just given it.”

  It’s my turn to give a shrug. “Sounds like my mom’s been bragging about me.”

  “She’s proud of you.”

  It’s nice to hear that. I know my parents are proud of me, but hearing it never grows old.

  There’s a lull between us. But it’s not the awkward lull that we had last week when I went to her office. And, this time, we’re looking at each other. Neither looking away. And this silence is definitely filled with something…

  “So, I should…” She thumbs over her shoulder, not finishing her sentence.

  “Yeah.” I cl
ear my throat. “I really need to get on with this; otherwise, I’ll be here all night.” I round my desk and sit down in my chair.

  “Thanks for this.” She lifts the folder away from her chest before clasping it back to her, and for a moment, I’m jealous of that folder, all squished up against her tits.

  As she turns away, I feel the weird urge to keep her here even if for just one more moment.

  “Did you manage to get a PA sorted?” I ask her.

  She stops and turns back to me. “Yeah.” She smiles. “I interviewed three candidates yesterday, and there was one who was a standout—Sierra. I called her up earlier to offer her the position, and she accepted. Great thing is, she can start on Monday, as she’d been temping and her temp job finished last week.”

  “That’s great, Morgan. I hope she’s as good a PA for you as Chrissy is for me.”

  Seriously, there’s nothing more valuable than a great PA. Chrissy is like gold dust. Great PAs are hard to come by. If Chrissy ever decided to leave me, I wouldn’t be too proud to get on my knees and beg her to stay.

  “Answer wisely, Morgan.” Chrissy’s voice carries through to my office from her desk outside.

  Morgan chuckles and glances over her shoulder, out of my office and at Chrissy. “I don’t think it’s possible to find a better PA than you,” Morgan says to her.

  Then, she looks back at me, bites the corner of her painted lip, and winks. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

  She is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

  And I’ve seen a lot of hot.

  My cock hardens instantly, like an iron spike in my pants, and I thank the fucking Lord that I’m sitting down and that my desk is hiding my preteen dick.

  “Thanks again for this.” Morgan taps the folder with her fingers. “Have a great weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter because I’m still in shock.

  I just got hard, and I’m talking a full-on raging boner that’s still here from Morgan biting her lip and winking at me.

  That hasn’t happened to me in…well, ever.

  And I haven’t had a random, inappropriate hard-on since I was a teenager when they were par for the course.

  Seriously, what the fuck is going on?

  I’m not one of those guys who is all about the forbidden fruit and the chase. I’m not the kind of guy who wants something purely because he can’t have it.