Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
My life is officially over.
Chapter Two
Stone
"You're restless today," Hector Guiterrez, the head of the athletic department, observes, watching me pace a goddamn hole in his floor after the monthly staff meeting.
He's only half wrong. I've been restless every damn day since Seraphina Alcoa came to work for me. She's the sweetest little thing I've ever seen, with these big brown eyes and a killer smile. Don't even get me started on her curves. There aren't words for the filth I think about growling in her ear while putting my hands all over those curves.
Today is worse than ever. She was on her knees between my legs, her hand on my thigh. I wanted to tackle her backward, and fuck screams out of her.
And that was before I found that fucking MASH board. I'm not sure what pisses me off more: the fact that my name was crossed off, or the fact that the Ashton prick's name wasn't crossed off. Or maybe it's the fact that she's my assistant, completely untouchable.
Believe me, that fact has been pissing me off for the last six months straight. I want her… and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it without getting us both fired. Unless—
I whirl on Hector. "Does the University have a rule about dating someone who works directly under someone else's supervision?"
Hector doesn't answer nearly fast enough to suit me. Instead, he takes his time straightening his tie and then folding his hands together on top of his desk. "Not to my knowledge," he finally says. "The fraternization policy prohibits relationships between faculty and students, as well as faculty and subordinates. Why?"
I pace again, contemplating how much to tell him. "I have a problem."
"Jesus Christ, Stone. Don't tell me that," he groans. "You're on track to win us a division title again this year."
"Not that kind of problem," I mutter, yanking at my tie. "I…ah, hell. I'm interested in my assistant."
"Seraphina," he says.
I turn to glower at him, not liking the way he says her name. It's…smug. Warm. I like Hector. He's a friend. But I will rip his eyes out through his asshole if he uses that tone again.
"Careful," I warn, my voice lethally soft.
He chuckles, smirking at me. "Easy there, man. I'm just saying, I'm familiar with her. And if you're asking to transfer her, she'd probably jump at the opportunity to not work directly under you."
"What?" My brows pull down, a frown tugging at my lips. "Why?"
"Ah, I believe she called you a Thanos-level villain last time we spoke," he says, grinning.
Jesus Christ.
I scrub a hand through my hair. "I'm not that bad."
"You are," Hector disagrees. "I wondered how long it'd take you to crack."
"For the record, I haven't…cracked," I mutter. "I just…"
"Want to crack."
I jerk my chin, not denying it. Yeah, I want to crack. I want to fucking break for her. But not if it's going to threaten her job. Unlike me, the university doesn't pay her millions every year. They pay her and every other executive assistant a pittance. I won't be the reason she loses her position.
"If I do…crack..." I say carefully, "Would her job be safe if she worked under someone else?"
"Let me get this straight," he mutters. "You're in here asking about her job, not yours?"
"Yes."
He stares at me for a long, silent moment before he bursts into laughter. "You're fucked."
"Fully aware," I growl at him. "Answer the question."
"Yeah, Stone. If she works under someone else, there's nothing preventing you from cracking." He shakes his head, still chuckling. "Jesus Christ. How do you want to handle this?"
I hesitate, not honestly sure. Part of me wants to leave the choice up to her since it's her job. But I've always been the motherfucker who asks for forgiveness instead of permission, especially when it counts. If I give her the choice, she may tell me to go fuck myself just for the hell of it. Apparently, I've been a Thanos-level villain.
"Is there a world where she gets to keep being my assistant, but answers to someone else?" I ask. That'd be ideal. I still see her every day, but without being her direct supervisor. She'd have the autonomy to tell me to go fuck myself without feeling like her job was at risk.
"Perhaps," Hector says. "We can restructure the position so she answers directly to me. I'd have to fill in the Chancellor, but I don't foresee Aaron having a problem with it." He pauses, holding up a finger. "So long as the two of you are discreet and it's her choice, obviously."
"Obviously, it'll be her choice," I growl. "Why the fuck do you think I'm in here now? I'm trying to do this the right way for her."
"You care about her."
I shrug instead of answering, not prepared to have this conversation with Hector when I haven't even had it with her. An hour ago, I didn't think I stood a chance with her.