This post has adult content. If you are under the age of eighteen years old or sensitive to adult language/situations, please do not read this post.
I previously posted the first three excerpts from Breaking All The Rules.
Excerpt One
http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/03/05/first-excerpt-from-breaking-all-the-rules/
Excerpt Two
http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/03/12/second-excerpt-from-breaking-all-the-rules/
Excerpt Three
http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/03/19/third-excerpt-from-breaking-all-the-rules/
Here’s the next bit to tide you over until release day (Tuesday!)
By noon the numbers on the expense reports blur, the lines running together. I set the stack aside, remove my lunch from the backpack, and saunter to the break room. The space is empty, my coworkers preferring to buy food from the company-subsidized cafeteria.
The meals served there are good, but not as good as my beef panang curry, a recipe I learned from Auntie Ratana, one of my mom’s best friends. I warm up the dish and carry it back to my desk, looking forward to enjoying this little taste of home.
The pinch-faced lady seated one row away from me complains loudly about stinky foods. She must be complaining about her own dish. She’s eating steamed broccoli, and the scent of flatulence hangs heavily in the air.
I ignore her grumbling, open my data donation program, and eat slowly as I code, savoring the flavors of curry paste, coconut milk, lime, and basil.
The program I’m crafting is my gift to the world, a means of sharing unused data and voice capacity. The less fortunate often receive free used phones, but not the plans needed to utilize them. My program will fix that problem.
There’s no money in it. When it goes live next year I might snag a Blaine Technologies’ Change the World grant. The mentoring provided is direly needed. The funding, however, will only pay for additional business expenses, not for my rent or my grocery bill. Nate would call my project’s lack of profit unsustainable.
I peruse his schedule. He has booked a lunchtime meeting with Mr. Blaine. My friend Anna’s desk is situated outside of her enigmatic CEO’s office, and I should drop by, see Emily, the adorable heir to the Blaine Technologies’ empire. If I bump into Nate as he leaves his meeting, I can claim it’s a coincidence.
It wouldn’t truly be a coincidence and this would violate the rules of my game. Nate must choose to see me outside the confines of our morning elevator rides. I can’t see him. I force myself to remain at my desk, to concentrate on my project, to not think about the object of my doomed and completely absurd obsession.
My progress is slow. Coding is natural for me. I’ve been taking programs apart and putting them back together since I was a child, computers being a necessary evil at the commune. Designing the site is more challenging. I stress over every marketing decision, every color choice, every graphic and text I utilize.
The small hairs on the back of my neck rise and my body hums with awareness. Only one man has this effect on me, but it can’t be him. He has a meeting. I glance upward and my jaw drops.
It is him. Nate stands at the end of the row of empty cubicles, his expression blank, his back straight, and his feet braced apart. His fingers clench into fists and release, clench and release. He’s the Iceman, renowned for his restraint, yet he’s struggling with his control. This is how much he wants me.
“I thought you had a meeting with your boss.” I issue this statement as a challenge. He’ll know I checked his schedule, accessed his account.
“I canceled the meeting.”
He canceled his meeting with Mr. Blaine. Nate never cancels meetings. His schedule once drafted is set for the day.
“Did you?” I ask.
“Yes.” Nate’s gaze meets mine and I suck in my breath. His pale gray eyes are turbulent with stark, raw emotion, his need calling to me, seducing me.
“I see.” I stare at him. He stares back at me, his square jaw jutted and his lips pressed together. Tension radiates from him, heavy waves of desire dragging me down, down, down.
“Okie dokie, then,” I concede. He came to me. He canceled his meeting for me. I can do the rest.
I push away from my desk and walk toward him, my hips swaying, my soul filled with purpose. Nate watches me, not moving, not speaking.
“Come with me.” I cover his fists with my fingers. Energy surges from his hands to mine, the connection instant and intense, shaking my soul.
“Come,” I repeat, leading him toward the shredding room, grabbing a box of tissues as we pass an unoccupied desk. Nate follows me, issuing no protests, offering no resistance.
I want resistance. I want push back, challenge, him. Nate’s unbending personality is an integral part of him and I don’t want him to change, not for me, not for anyone.
We enter the shredding room, the space soundproof, private, utilitarian. A monstrous machine is bookended by two stacks of folded cardboard boxes. Shelves line the perimeter. White dust hangs in the stale air and covers the gray frayed carpet.
“This isn’t posh, but it will do.” I set the box of tissues on a nearby shelf and close the door, blocking the outside noise and hiding us from curious eyes, creating a secluded office oasis for the two of us.
“We’re not doing anything, Miss Trent.” Nate stands dangerously close to the exit and watches me warily, prepared to leave at the slightest provocation. “I only deal with professionals.”
Nathan Lawford, Blaine Technologies’ chief financial officer, is known as the Iceman. He conducts his personal and business affairs without emotion, never allowing himself to become involved with anyone. When Nate sees something or someone he wants, he negotiates, paying a simple, set monetary price.
Now he wants Camille, the company’s green-haired intern.
Camille Joplin Trent never expected to be paid to pleasure the man of her dreams. She can’t quite figure out why this is a bad thing. Nate is intelligent, handsome, sophisticated, everything she’s ever wanted in a lover and never thought she could have. Their contract is for a month, thirty lust-filled days of making every sexual fantasy they’ve ever had come true. At the end of this month, the rules state their relationship will end.
Of course, Camille has never been good at following rules.
Pre-order Now At Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-All-Rules-Erotic-Novella-ebook/dp/B00F2I2GXY
