Page 43 of Damaged Beast
“And what’s David delivering? He’s an investor.”
“I’m warning you.”
“And Ricardo said something odd. He mentioned you two are in the same business, but he works with insurance and you’re in parking lots and real estate.”
Prime slams his hand down on the desk. I jump in surprise and take a step back. His shoulders are bunched and tension ripples down from his jaw.
“Let it go.”
My heart races wildly. I’m not afraid of Prime. I don’t think he’d hurt me. But there are moments where I see another side of him, a terrible darkness, like that layer of ice he keeps as armor is actually a prison for a monster much, much worse.
He’s hiding something from me, but now isn’t the time to press. Instead, I abruptly change the subject.
“People are treating me differently and I don’t like it.”
I think the sudden shift gives him an excuse to back down. He relaxes. “How’s that?”
“Everyone’s being bizarre.” I tell him about the hallway, the bathroom, the breakroom. “It’s like they’re afraid of me.”
He looks amused. The monster is safely caged again. “You didn’t stop to think what would happen if you married the boss?”
“They’ve always kept me apart. I mean, I’m your assistant, but this is even worse.”
“Can you blame them?”
“Yes!”
“No, I know, I get it.” I knead my shoulder. “I’d do the same if I were them.”
His eyes stray to my chest and he nods for me to come closer. “Let me help.”
“It’s fine, just a knot.”
“Come here, Deanna, and let me work it out.”
I shiver at the demanding, bossy tone. “You can be pushy sometimes.”
“Stop talking. Get your pretty ass over here.”
I reluctantly obey, mostly because I feel a headache coming on and this might actually help. He sits against his desk and I lean back into him as his fingers slowly rub my shoulders and back, finding spots of tension I didn’t even know were there. He’s veryskilled at massaging me, and soon I forget that I wasn’t even into the idea to begin with.
“That feels really good,” I say with a low sigh as he grinds his thumb into a particularly difficult spot.
“You’re holding too much stress.”
“Can you blame me? This whole company is on my shoulders.”
“No, baby, it isn’t. Only the parts you see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hands pause, but he quickly resumes. “It doesn’t mean anything. My tongue gets loose when you’re around, that’s all.”
“I noticed the other night.”
He chuckles, low and sensual. “Now we’re joking about it?”
“No reason to pretend like it didn’t happen.”
