Page 6 of Staking His Claim
His eyes grew dark and a faint flush colored his clean-shaven jaw.
For several seconds he didn't speak as his gaze raked my face.
When his eyes dropped to his desk, I suspected, for some ridiculously exciting reason, that Fletcher was composing himself.
Because of the reference I’d made to lying in bed?
Heat tunneled through my belly into my pussy, and I felt my panties dampening.
After several seconds when he raised his gaze once more, he was fully back under control, easing back in his chair and steepling his fingers under his chin.
“Go on then, what do you think our next move should be?” he asked.
“It's clear Harry Willis and his son will never admit to the fraud they committed, but we know Mrs. Willis has a few receipts. We could lean into that, let them think they hold more significance and see where we land. I have a feeling they’ll jump first and give Mrs. Willis what she’s worth.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Bluffing without solid evidence is dangerous, Emily, especially if you don't have the experience to back it up.”
My skin tingled some more to have his full attention back on me. At moments like these, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world to be under Fletcher Knight’s regard. “But you have the experience. You're a maestro at getting exactly what you want for your clients.”
Again his eyes flickered and he shifted in his chair.
“You really believe that, don't you? You're not like one of those hungry associates out there blowing smoke up my ass, are you?”
“I would never,” I said a little too fervently. Crap. My groupie voice was in danger of making another appearance and I cleared my throat again. “I mean, I'm just going by your reputation.”
“And reputation means a lot to you?”
There was a probing quality that made me think he was delving far beneath the surface of that question. My heart began to race.
“A good reputation is important, yes, but up to a point, I think. I would never let it get in the way of what I truly want.”
“And what is it you truly want, Emily?” His voice had dropped a couple of octaves until it was a dark rumble moving through me. Whether it was deliberately designed or not, I found myself leaning closer to him even across the room just so I was more tuned in. As if I could be any more tuned into this man.
What was it I wanted? I wanted to blurt out every fantasy I'd had about him, but that would be a one-way ticket to HR and a swift security escort out the front doors.
He literally came out of a divorce meeting, was still a married man for the next hour or two technically.
And also, when was coming on to your boss ever a good idea?
I don't care.
Those three reckless words pounded hard through me as I stared at him. “What I want is impossible. Crazy. Maybe even dangerous,” I whispered.
“But you would still risk your reputation if it was attainable?” he pushed.
“Yes,” I breathed, the response ejected from my very soul.
Because I’d lain awake for countless nights dreaming of ways to have Fletcher Knight.
In my life.
In my bed.
Deep inside me.
Those times I had stalked him to the gym downstairs, I had blushed when I saw the outline of his cock against his shorts as he heaved those weights.
The man was packing an absolute monster in his pants. And yes, I had hastily gone online afterwards and bought myself a dildo to practice on.
