Savage

~

“Sage! Wake up! This isn’t the time to be dreaming about Mr. Heinrich!” Ronnie spoke in a half-whisper, half-shout through gritted teeth. She glanced around nervously, checking if anyone had heard her—or me, mumbling in my sleep about our boss.

“Wake up,” she commanded. She had pushed me so hard that I fell out of my chair and onto the floor.

I was sprawled out in front of Ronnie. She crouched down to my level with a gleam of amusement in her eyes. She extended her hand to help me up as she laughed.

I tried to laugh, too, but the vivid memories of my dream were still fresh. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and a shiver ran down my spine. I sighed.

Ronnie was wheezing, clutching her stomach, and her face was red from the effort. Eventually, her laughter subsided.

“Babe, today is not the day to be sleeping on the job,” she hiccupped. She looped her arm into mine and briskly led me into her office. “But I needed that laugh so fucking badly, so thanks for brightening my day. I’m under so much pressure right now. I don’t even know how you find time to breathe with all the craziness around here.”

Ronnie gestured around the room as she closed the door behind us. I sank into the chair in front of her desk.

“Do you not see the dark circles under my eyes? You just snapped me out of the only relief I had,” I said.

Ronnie smiled. “Oh look, we’re matching,” she said, pointing at the area under her eyes. She took her seat behind the desk, immediately shifting into work mode.

Such a girl boss.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“I sure am. But remember, you guys will step in after Mr. Heinrich and I finish prepping the clients. Okay?”

I nodded, trying to compose myself for the upcoming meeting with him. The thought of him made me slightly drool. “Is he actually here this time, or will he be virtual?”

“Yup. Saw him this morning when I got in. Well, not really. I saw his car, so I’m guessing that he’s here.”

I sighed, and Ronnie shot me a glare. She could tell I was still lost in some wicked thought. “Focus!” she exclaimed, throwing a stapler at me. It hit my shoulder hard.

“You’re lucky the desk is in between us,” I threatened.

“Stop your daydreaming,” she commanded, squinting her eyes at me. Then she turned her attention back to her notes on her laptop.

We gathered the rest of our notes and made our way to the end of the cubicles that filled the entire area. The office where our managers and leads usually held meetings was on the nineteenth floor, only one floor up from where we worked.

Ronnie and I stepped off the blue carpeting onto the marble-tiled flooring near the elevators, our four-inch heels clicking sharply in the echoing space. A mix of trepidation and excitement washed over me as we stepped into the elevator.

I pressed the button marked with the number nineteen, which lit up red under my index finger. I checked my reflection in the mirrored walls, tucking my long black hair behind my ears. Adjusting my baby pink blouse, I unbuttoned the second button from the top to reveal a hint of cleavage—not that I had much to show.

I smoothed out the creases in my fitted, knee-length, pastel green skirt and adjusted the slit at the back. My thigh-high pantyhose were pitch black, perfectly matching my four-inch heels, Swatch leather watch, and the thin belt around my waist with its dainty gold buckle.

The elevator ride seemed to last forever, and I began shifting my weight from one leg to the other. I could feel Ronnie’s incredulous gaze on me.

“Stop it,” she hissed.

I stopped moving and turned to give her a nervous smile instead. We refocused on the doors in front of us.

The elevator came to a halt, which made my heart race. The doors swung open, and there he stood—Mr. Heinrich, our boss. He wore a charcoal black suit, fitted to hug every inch of his bulging muscles, and his hands were in his pockets, tightening the cloth around his thighs.

His jacket swung open, and his head was bald to perfection. It wasn’t cropped short this time. Normally, he lets it grow out when he is away. I love it. The style highlights his hollow cheeks and defines the rest of his facial features. He was definitely all man.

I swallowed a bit too hard, causing my throat to hurt. I swallowed again to ease the pain. He stood with hooded, icy, blue eyes peering into my soul. I tried to match his look with a determination of my own.

He stepped forward once, and all my strength diminished when I smelled his scent…my scent on him. YSL Libre. My eyes widened in disbelief. I went completely still.

“Fuck.”

The word slipped from my lips before I could catch it. I covered my mouth immediately because we were not alone. He had two other associates trailing him. They gave me disapproving looks, but his features never changed. He was not moved by my crassness.

My cheeks reddened, and my palms began to sweat, as he arched an inquiring eyebrow my way. A flicker of a smile played on his lips, only to vanish in an instant.

My entire body felt weak at the sight of him, heat flooding through me. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my skirt, desperate to stay calm. Instead, I cleared my throat, the embarrassment washing over me.

“Miss Beauchamp, Miss Sauvignon,” he greeted in his deep, throaty German accent. I began drooling once more. I could feel his eyes on me after he and his associates sidestepped us to stand at the back of the elevator.

This got me wondering, though, if I reacted this much to his voice, what would happen if he had touched me? I took a deep, shaky breath to clear my mind of these raging pheromones and thoughts.

It seemed to help, but then there was a problem, because I inhaled his delicious scent. I could still smell my scent on him. I turned a little and opened my chestnut-coloured eyes to see him watching me tentatively. He was in the middle of his associates. This gave us a bit of distance from the heat that was building between us.

“The meeting will be held on the twentieth floor instead, today, Miss Beauchamp,” he paused before continuing. “Miss Sauvignon, I would like a word with you after.”

My stomach sank, but somehow, I found the composure to hold my head up. “Yes, Mr. Heinrich,” I replied.