The Gargoyle from General Management (Claws & Cubicles, #3)

by Kate Prior

“I’m here to get to know people. Right now, my priority is to make sure everyone on my team feels recognized for the effort they make. I'm trying to come up with something better than these,” he says with a chuckle, and shifting in his seat, he reaches into his vest pocket, and shows me a sticker sheet full of little gold stars. “Oh, that's adorable,” I laugh. “Forget whatever I was saying about retaining and appreciating long-term employees, gold stickers are where it’s at.” He raises an eyebrow, but it looks like he's glad it amused me. “Not patronizing?” “I don't know if you fully grasp how primal the need for a shiny, little sticker runs.”

He pauses a moment, before sizing me up, taking a sip of his drink as he does. “If I were Soven, I'd give you a sticker for your retention proposal. It's a good idea, and, clearly, you’ve done the work to back it up.” That wasn’t what I expected to hear, honestly. My entire body heats up, and it isn't the alcohol. My insides are as gooey as molten chocolate.

And even then, seducing comes with its own hurdles. Like, I get that people have to worry about getting pregnant and STIs and I want to appreciate that, but on the other hand, maybe a girl just wants to be fucked raw and whine, “Cum in me, Daddy,” without explaining herself every damn time.

“Are you alright?” the gargoyle says, surprise in his voice. I’m just hanging out in an empty hotel conference room, masturbating, pondering my life choices, as you do.

I try to shrug off the dip in my enthusiasm with a show of confidence I don’t feel. “You should just give me my gold sticker now.” “You think you deserve a gold sticker,” he says, clearly amused at my boldness. “Yeah, I did my homework and everything.” He leans back and the motion makes me want to crawl across the table to straddle his lap. “I think I need to see a little more from you.” I bite my teeth on “I can show you my tits.” That’s not what he’s asking for. All the feelings I still have yet to neatly sort out in therapy roil in my stomach, sending heat up my spine. We just got back to a place of friendship, and now my body is ready to drive me into ruining it again. I have to remind myself that we haven’t broken any rules yet, and we shouldn’t. After today’s corporate shenanigans, his attention on me hits a nerve that feels like it's directly connected to my clit. I need it like I need my vibrator right now. What’s worse, I think he knows the idea of the sticker strokes an itch in my psyche that hasn’t been scratched in a long, long time. “My impromptu song and dance doesn’t do it for you?” I recognize the look he has, it’s the same as right before I kissed him in the bar. His amber eyes flicker in the candlelight, and darken as he takes me in. The breath stalls in my chest as my heartbeat stutters. His eyes linger over me, in a way I'm not prepared for. “I’d like you to show me how far the need for a little, shiny sticker goes.”

Being weird seems to have been the one thing that's really ended up working for me, anyway. And if there's a better way to express how deeply devoted and loving you feel towards someone than being weird in his general direction, well, then, I wouldn't know about it.