Page 51 of Another Last Call
“Hannah, don’t,” I said. “I can’t do this. Please.”
She was in front of me now, and I was trapped between the desk and the wall. Slowly, her hands raised to the buttons on her shirt.
“I thought maybe you’d like to see everything,” she said in that breathy voice.
I protested.
I shook my head.
I told her to stop.
She kept unbuttoning that stupid plaid shirt anyway, leaving it on as she lifted what I’d correctly identified as a tank top over her breasts. Her stomach was tight and flat, muscled from years of working on her parents’ farm. And then there were her tits. They spilled out of an incredibly impractical looking bra that hooked in the front. Hannah reached forward, unclasped it, and suddenly they were bouncing free.
And I just…
I was as horny as anyone had ever been after spending months around the one woman I wanted more than anything and who didn’t want me. I was only human. And I loved tits. So yeah, I looked, just for a second. I took in the sight of her perky round breasts, big and firm and natural, with hard nipples poking forward from areolas so pale they were almost indiscernible from the surrounding skin.
I looked at them, and then I tore my eyes away, staring down at the desk as anger surged through me.
I don’t know if I was angrier at myself or at her.
“Do you want to touch them, Caleb?” she asked.
“Please put your shirt back on,” I said quietly.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want to.” She was still holding her shirt up, and she took another step forward. “I’m okay with it. I’ve wanted you to—”
“Hannah,” I snapped. “Put your fucking clothes back on and get out of my office.”
I knew it was harsh. I knew I sounded angry. I knew my face was burning red beneath my beard and my eyes were trained to the desk as though they were glued there. And I knew it would hurt Hannah to get shot down like that.
But I wasn’t that guy, and I refused to become him. Fucking my staff was not an option. And I didn’t want tobein that situation. One misunderstanding, and I could’ve been completely fucked over.
One word from her, and everything I had in Marble Beach would be gone.
Hannah recoiled at my words. She wrenched her shirt down, doing up her bra after her tits were covered. Her face was red and she looked utterly humiliated.
“Look, I won’t say anything—” I started.
“Oh, fuck you,” she said.
“There’s a camera in here, Hannah.” My voice wavered as I spoke, betraying how fucking terrified I was just then, though I wasn’t sure if she realized it. “With audio. I won’t say anything about this, and we can pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Don’t bother.”
She slammed the office door behind her and I released the breath I’d been holding, nausea washing over me as I did. My hands shook as I lifted them to wipe away the beads of sweat on the side of my face.
I’d barely recovered when Maggie flew into the office seconds later, gripping an apron in her hands. “What the fuck just happened?”
“Mags, I—”
“Hannah just threw her apron at me and said she quit. What did you—”
“She flashed me.”
Maggie stopped, her eyes wide.
“She was hitting on me,” I continued, my voice as steady as I could make it, though I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “She took off her shirt. I asked her to stop. Repeatedly. She didn’t listen until I yelled at her to put her clothes back on and get out of the office. If you don’t believe me—” I motioned at the camera in the corner “—check the security tapes.”
