Rainbow’s face dances with excitement, and she wiggles her shoulders. “I thought I added too much sugar, but I guess it isn’t too sweet.” She leans back on the suede black couch, and I’ve never seen so much passion igniting her face. She looks at me like I went to the sky and handpicked the stars for her.

“You better grab some, or I’ll eat the rest.”

“Go right ahead. I only eat sweets on Saturdays.”

I look at her sideways as her eyes are glued to the TV. “Why only on Saturday?”

“Shh . . . we’ll talk about that later. Let’s finish watching the show.”

Is she on one of those weird keto diets? She’s no longer wearing the beige dress that hugs her breasts and hips she wore earlier to work, but a pink cotton T-shirt with matching pajama shorts and purple knee-high socks. Her wardrobe is as bright as a bag of Skittles. Her hair is piled on top of her head, a few strands fall down, and her face is free from makeup. Just fucking beautiful. And she isn’t even aware of how beautiful she is—that when she’s in the room with a bunch of shareholders, they’re staring at her like she’s the most valuable prize.

I avert my eyes to the screen, but her presence is making it hard to concentrate on the show. This is harder than I thought. It’s too dangerous for me to be sitting here with the woman who I’ve been fantasizing about fucking for almost a decade.

Is she shy in the bedroom? I can’t picture her taking charge or telling me what she likes. For fuck’s sake, she doesn’t even curse.

Stop it, Gunner.

It isn’t going to happen.

No more thinking about fucking your employee and roommate.

“You want to watch the next one?” Gia asks.

“Sure.” Even though I have no idea what happened in the previous episode.

She hits the skip intro button, and the next episode starts to play.

Fucking fantastic, now my dick is as hard as stone. I snatch the lavender pillow Rainbow decided to decorate my couch with and cover up my hard dick.

This is awkward.

I stare at her like a beautiful painting, and she says, “Do I have something on my face?”

She turns her body toward me, and the light from the television outlines her face.

“No. Why?” I rub my bottom lip.

“You keep staring at me. You have a staring problem.”

“Says the woman who is eye-fucking me in meetings and staring at my ass.”

Her breath hitches. I caught her a few times staring at me in a meeting. Noticed her gaze drifting down to my crotch and her cheeks turning red when I gave a lecture on a new policy during the HR meeting.