Page 50 of Billionaire's Desire
I smile sympathetically, feeling the same way. But I know we have to go, no matter how difficult it might be.
“C’mon. I will make you some eggs and toast for breakfast.” That finally gets her moving and in a few minutes we are out of our room.
As we make our way to the meeting, I can’t help but think about Max… and her.
“Thanks for last night, Hilda. I mean it.”
She shoves me playfully, “We are going to talk about it later, about you being in his bed.”
I blush. “It wasn’t like that.”
“You’ll tell me how it was later.” She gives me a cheeky smile, which I can’t help but return.
Which reminds me, I need to thank him for being there for me last night, for helping me through one of the toughest moments of my life. I make a mental note to do so as soon as possible.
Despite the heaviness in my heart, I try to focus on the meeting, on the work that needs to be done. It’s not easy, but I manage to push aside my grief for a little while, knowing that there will be time to mourn later.
As the meeting ends and we start to make our way back to our workstations, I feel a sense of relief. The worst is over, for now.
I grab the cart and fill it with clean linen.
It is time for my rounds now.
First stop, Max’s room.
I take a deep breath as I make my way down the hallway towards his room, carrying a bundle of clean linens in my arms.
I knock on the door, but there’s no answer.
I have to swallow the disappointment at that.
After a moment, I decided to go in. I push the door open slowly, peeking inside to make sure Max isn’t there. When I see that the room is empty, I step inside and set the linens down on the bed.
I must fight to keep down the feelings when I remember nestling in his sheets last night.
Fuck!
If there were professional boundaries in place, I am pretty sure we have crossed that line already.
I am too distracted by my thoughts to hear the shower running. After changing his bedding, I head out of his room and pick up new towels from my cart.
Without even thinking to knock, I push the bathroom door open and step inside.
As soon as I do, I realize my mistake.
Max is standing in the shower, water cascading down his back, facing away from me.
“Fuck! Fuck that feels so good.” His deep voice is followed by the subtle shift of his hips, his clenched butt and the slow pumping of his hand.
It takes me a minute to fully process the scene in front of me.
He lifts one hand, slapping it against the wet tiled walls. His hand moves faster.
I am transfixed.
“Fuck!” he groans.
My mouth becomes dry, my nipples suddenly aching for attention.
