Bedroom Bully by Harper West

12

Rebecca

I couldn’t getthose messages out of my head. Even after working until almost ten and even after treating myself to a hotel room stay across the street that enabled me to soak in a jetted tub for a very long time, I still couldn’t get my head wrapped around things. But, as I sank deep into the bubbles, I lined myself up with one of the jets and hiked my right leg over the edge of the tub.

Before losing myself in the effervescent pleasure the bathtub afforded me.

The sheer force of my orgasm ripped me into a state of exhaustion that served me well. The last thing I remembered was wrapping myself up in a towel before planting face-first into the king-sized bed. The mattress was luxurious. I wanted to call in sick for the rest of the week and coop myself up in the room. But, when my alarm went off the next morning, I unplugged the tub and got myself ready for work.

Before checking out of the two-hundred-dollar-a-night hotel only to walk back across the street.

“I should apologize,” I whispered to myself.

I took a last-minute detour into the coffee shop that jutted off the main floor. It was open to the public, sure, but it was mostly there for the office to utilize. I ordered two very large cups of coffee and doused them with all sorts of flavorings. I didn’t even watch what I was pouring in there before I doubled back and ordered to breakfast sandwiches to go. Caffeine and food always smoothed things over, and I owed JoJo an apology for the insanity that had rained down on my email yesterday.

So, with my hands full and my purse slung over my shoulder, I rode the elevator all the way up to his floor and walked directly into his office.

“Close the door,” he said flatly.

I kicked it closed before I walked toward his desk. I set the coffee in front of him and that caused him to sit back. I sat one of the breakfast sandwiches down before unwrapping it for him, as if he were some husband I had to appease with my actions.

Then, I flopped into the chair behind me. “Hey.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Did I miss a special occasion?”

“Consider this my apology for yesterday,” I said as I took a sip of my coffee.

I grimaced at the mixture of sugar and honey. The twinge of cream made me shiver and the lack of caramel left me wanting. JoJo picked up his coffee and sniffed it before scooting it off to the side, but he did pick up his sandwich and take a behemoth bite.

“Mmm, thanks,” he said with his mouth full.

I blinked as my entire body paused. “What did you just say?”

He shot me a look before he turned to his keyboard. “Anything else?”

I leaned up. “I really am sorry about yesterday.”

He started typing away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know,” I said before I lowered my voice, “the email?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t get any emails from you yesterday.”

I blinked. “No, I know you’re trying to keep it on the down-low, but I really am sorry.”

His eyes met mine. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seriously.”

“You know, with the picture that wasn’t actually of me?”

He chuckled. “Not sure who you’re sending pictures to, but it certainly isn’t me.”

I sat there and stared at him for a while, trying to figure out if I had lost my damn mind. Either he was really good at putting on a face, or I had dreamt the entire thing. But, I couldn’t have, right? It actually happened. I watched my emails get wiped. I watched the messages on my now-non-existent dating app delete themselves before my very eyes.

But that didn’t stop me from standing and nodding my head softly. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get to work then.”

JoJo snickered. “You should. I’m paying you to work, not sit in my office and talk.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later, then.”

I meandered back to my desk, lost in my thoughts. Clearly, someone had logged onto not only my dating app, but also my personal email. But I didn’t know who the hell could have done it. I didn’t know anyone with that kind of expertise, and I’d never stepped foot into the I.T. Department, much less pissed someone off down there.

And as I sat down at my desk, tears rushed to my eyes.

“I just want control of my life back,” I whispered to myself.

I pulled out my phone and navigated to the only shred of proof I had that something had happened yesterday. I read through the texts exchanged between JoJo and myself, and it brought me a modicum of relief. I wasn’t crazy. It really had happened. But that still didn’t give me any answers as to who was trying to ruin my life.

“Damn it,” I whimpered.

I went against everything within me, and I deleted those messages as well. And with that, the last shred of evidence I had of the activities of yesterday were gone. I leaned back and let the tears flow. It wasn’t as if I had on any makeup to ruin in the first place, so it didn’t matter. I felt trapped within my own life. It felt like this entire city was out to destroy me simply because it didn’t like the fact that I wanted JoJo’s attention. That I wanted answers.

It was almost as if the city were working against me to throw me out.

But, by deleting the last little bit of evidence, I felt a sort of pseudo-control come back. After shedding my tears of stress, I wiped my face clean and straightened my back. I guzzled down the terrible coffee and felt the caffeinated bliss rushing through my veins. My muscles came alive as I booted up my desktop computer, and I figured that if JoJo could pretend like this shit didn’t happen, then so could I.

Which made the perpetrator null and void in my life.

“Here we go. That’s the stuff,” I murmured.

With every email I answered, I put the squabble of yesterday behind me. With every call I took, I felt a control over my life falling back into my lap. It felt good to ignore the problem. It felt good to act like something didn’t exist. The only power I gave over was the power I was willing to give, and I didn’t want to give the silent perpetrator any other lease on my life. If they wanted to be miserable, that was fine with me. But they sure as hell weren’t going to drag me down with them.

And by the time lunch rolled around, I was back to my usual self.

“Knock knock!” Brit sing-songed behind my door.

I giggled as I stood. “Come on in, I’m just logging out for lunch.”

She whipped my door open. “Good, because there’s this fabulous--.”

My desk phone started ringing and I held up my finger to Brit. She mouthed that she’d meet me downstairs and I waved her off with a nod of my head. We tried to walk to our lunch spots every chance we could in order to stretch our legs and get our bodies moving. And as I drew in a deep breath, a smile crossed my face.

“TechGiants, this is Rebecca speaking.”

JoJo’s voice was clipped. “My office. Now.”

“I actually just clocked out for lunch. Can it--?”

“What part of ‘now’ don’t you understand? Get up here, Miss Loren.”

I furrowed my brow. “All right, I’ll be up there soon.”

I dropped the phone back into the receiver before shooting a text off to Brit. I wasn’t sure how long this tongue-lashing would take, so I told her that if I wasn’t downstairs in ten minutes to head on without me. She sent me a thumbs up with the hashtag “good luck,” and it made me giggle as I headed for the stairs. But I wasn’t laughing the second I stepped into Joseph’s office.

Because he looked genuinely upset.

“About damn time you showed up. Get in here and close the door.”

I did as he asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

He scoffed. “Wrong? That’s an understatement. What the fuck have you put on my desk?”

I looked down at the files. “The work you instructed me to do. That’s what I got done last night.”

He picked up a folder and slapped it on top of his keyboard. “This? This is garbage, Rebecca. Even for you, it’s garbage.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You better watch how you speak to me. I’m your boss, Miss Loren, and you’re in deep water right now. Come look at this. Come. Get over here.”

I scurried to his side. “I don’t understand what the problem--.”

He pointed to the first page, about midway down. “There. You see it?”

Shit. “That four should be a--.”

His voice growled in my ear. “A three, I know. Which means that all of your calculations after this point are off.”

I picked up the paperwork and sighed. “I am so sorry, Mr. Ryker. Truly, I am. I must’ve been so distracted and panicked last night that my finger slipped.”

His hot breath pulsed against the shell of my ear. “So, what are you going to do to fix your mistake, Miss Loren?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll take this file back downstairs with me and get right on it after lunch.”

His voice lowered to a whisper. “You mean, fix it right now.”

His chest pressed into my shoulder, and I wanted to melt into the floor. The heat of his words ricocheted down my neck, sending goosebumps fleeing across my skin. My thighs quivered as they squeezed together. I felt my clit pulsing, aching for a need that couldn’t be fulfilled. And as I looked over, catching JoJo’s commanding gaze, my lips feathered over his.

“I’ll fix it before I take my lunch,” I said breathlessly.

His nostrils flared. “Good girl.”

My knees gave way and I plummeted toward the floor, only my knees never hit his carpet. Instead, he swung his arm around my waist, catching me before I hit the floor. My hands planted into his desk with a thud. My jaw trembled as I struggled to stand back on my feet. He helped me up, his arms holding me and squeezing me as if he wanted me close to him.

He made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. And yet, there I was, melting into a literal puddle at his feet.

“I’m sorry. I just—I didn’t get much sleep, and--.”

He released me the second my legs remembered their job. “Take the folder and go fix your mistake.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes, Mr. Ryker. Of course.”

He moved away from me as if he hadn’t just wrecked my world. “Now, get out. I have work to tend to.”

I slowly backed away with wide eyes, watching as he turned his attention back to his laptop. It was as if he hadn’t just invaded every part of me. It was as if he hadn’t just mesmerized me to a point where my body could no longer function. My mind raced back to the burlesque show. I imagined him strapped up in leather with one of those whips in his hand. My hands, chained above my head. My legs, spread open with a metal bar that held cuffs around my ankles.

His hand, exploring my every peak and valley while his hot breath slid along my skin.

I scurried out of his office as quickly as possible, but the distance didn’t matter. My nipples were already puckered against my padded bra, and I’d have to take lunch in my office today. I slammed my office door closed behind me and tossed the folder onto my desk. I raked my hands through my hair, feeling as if I were going stark-raving mad trying to figure out how the hell I’d navigate myself through this salacious, hellacious journey I found myself on.

“Damn it, Becca, come on. Don’t lose your grit,” I murmured.

I walked over to the windows behind my desk and gazed out across the city. I gave myself the best pep talk I could while I felt my back straightening and strengthening. I had to stop allowing people to knock me off my feet. I was no one’s punching bag. And even if JoJo dropped so much work into my lap that all I did was rake in overtime, I could invest it wisely. With the quick calculations I did in my head, I’d be able to sock away the excess money into investment accounts I helped my parents set up, and I’d be able to quit this job in, say, five or six years?

The thought pulled a smile across my face.

But the idea of leaving JoJo behind made my lips fall back into a frown.

Still, I felt a fire stoking itself within my gut once more. Now that I knew JoJo’s position regarding me hadn’t changed, I had something to work toward. Something to look forward to in the future. So, I turned toward my desk and got to work. I placed a quick order for a salad and a sandwich from a deli up the road that delivered, then I started in on the calculations that were all wrong because of one slip of my stupid little finger.

Numbers never lied, and that brought me comfort. Numbers never tried to manipulate me, which meant they could never lie. The only lie they told was a lie concocted by the calculator, whether by error or by force. But that didn’t mean the numbers were to blame. It meant the person in charge of the numbers was to blame. They were a truly innocent array of strokes and mechanisms that gave me full and utter control over the finances of one of the most powerful companies in the country.

Which gave me all the control I needed to feel safe inside the walls of JoJo’s company.