I stepped back, slipping my feet into my pumps. “I’ll have Emily compile the full report and send it to your office.” I buttoned my blouse with fingers that barely trembled, covering the navy lace that had started this whole delicious encounter. “Was there anything else you needed to discuss?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head mutely.
“Excellent.” I gathered my things, tucking my tablet under my arm. “I’ll let you, ah... wrap things up here.”
The double meaning hit him, and I couldn’t suppress a small, satisfied smile as a flush crept up his neck.
“Same time next week?” I added sweetly, reaching for the door handle.
“Mia,” he called out, his voice rough with something that sounded like awe. “How…how the hell did you…?”
I paused at the door, glancing back over my shoulder. “Oh, you’d be surprised what a girl can learn from a few self-help videos and a healthy dose of motivation.”
With that, I slipped out of the conference room, closing the door quietly behind me. Only then did I allow myself a moment to slump against the wall, my legs shaking slightly as the reality of what I’d just done hit me.
Holy shit. I’d just given my boss a blow job in the office. And then walked out like I owned the place.
The thrill of power still coursed through my veins, mixing with the arousal that hadn’t faded. I pressed my thighs together, acutely aware of my own unfulfilled need. But that would have to wait.
For now, I had the satisfaction of knowing that back in that conference room, Jack Sullivan was still trying to remember how to function after I’d completely destroyed him.
Best. Meeting. Ever.
MIA
Ipretended to study my computer screen, but my eyes kept darting to the hallway where Jack’s voice rumbled low with those of Directors Stevens and Johnson. Seven fifteen on a Tuesday night. The office had emptied out hours ago, the only sounds the hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the building settling.
Three weeks. Three incredibly frustrating, arousing, maddening weeks since I’d taken the initiative in that conference room. Since then, Jack had driven me to two more mind-blowing orgasms.
First was the supply closet incident last Wednesday. He’d pulled me into the narrow space, shut the door, pressed me against shelves stocked with printer paper and office supplies. His hand had snaked up my skirt, fingers finding me already wet and ready. Three minutes of his skilled fingers working me while his other hand covered my mouth to muffle my cries.
Then yesterday, in the back of his town car while his driver navigated us to a client meeting. The privacy partition raised, my skirt bunched around my waist as Jack’s fingers brought me apart while we discussed the meeting. The dichotomy ofhis professional tone while I fell to pieces beside him had been almost too much to bear.
And yet, after all these encounters, all these stolen moments where he’d pleasured me until I saw stars, nothing more. No invitation to his house. No suggestion of taking this further. Not even a hint about when we might finally cross that last line.
Was he edging me? The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through my core even as my eyes narrowed.
The low murmur of voices in the hallway grew louder, then faded as the directors left for the night. Jack’s footsteps approached, and I heard him pause when he reached his office doorway. Surprise flickered across his face when he noticed me still at my desk.
Enough was enough. If Jack Sullivan thought he could keep me in this state of perpetual arousal without following through, he had another thing coming. Shoving my chair back with more force than necessary, I marched straight into his office.
Jack had settled behind his desk, loosening his tie as he glanced up at me with one eyebrow raised. Without breaking eye contact, I circled around to his side of the desk. Jack swiveled in his chair to face me, those hazel eyes darkening as he took in my determined expression.
“I’m coming over tonight,” I announced, my voice steady despite the butterflies rioting in my stomach. “And we’re going to bang.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, he spoke.
“No.”
The single word floated between us, and I felt my confidence waver. But only for a second.
I frowned. “What do you mean, no? I know where you live. If I just turn up, you won’t be able to resist me.”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, a mix of desire and amusement. “Very true. I’ll have to leave the state, in that case.”
“I don’t understand, Jack. Why won’t you fuck me?” The question came out more frustrated than seductive, but I didn’t care. I knew exactly how much he wanted me. I’d felt it. I’d watched his control shatter. This rejection wasn’t about desire, which only made it more confusing.
His answer was to pull me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips as I settled against him. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped when I felt his hardness pressing exactly where I needed it.
