“What do you need me to do?”

I sit down as I ask this question, and Jameson hands me some papers. He tells me to read and highlight certain passages, find certain case citations, etc. We work for about an hour. There’s very sparse discussion.

“Can I see what you’ve got so far?” he asks.

I nod and he comes to stand behind me. I begin to show him the papers and he places both his hands on my shoulders. It’s a simple gesture, but it puts me on edge. At first, his hands are just resting, but, after we talk for a few minutes, he moves his thumb to my neck and begins to make small circles. I’m starting to have trouble concentrating.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I snap out of my reverie, nod, and try to continue reading, but Jameson keeps tracing circles. “Uh… Mr. Reed?”

“Please, call me Jim,” he leans in and whispers this into my ear. “Or Jameson, since most people call me Jim, and you aren’t most people.”

Shivers go down my spine. I know I have options. I can refuse to call him Jim or Jameson and communicate that this level of familiarity is making me uncomfortable, or I can take the plunge. I can move into uncharted territory and get the satisfaction I desperately desire. That I’ve been desiring for a while now.

“Okay… Jameson?”

There’s a question in my voice and he answers it with a kiss. A kiss along the edge of my jaw. I feel his tongue slip out and my breathing gets faster.

“Could you unbutton your shirt?” He’s still whispering in my ear and it’s driving me crazy.

He’s so close, my stomach is doing the thing where it feels like it’s falling. With shaky hands, I undo all the buttons on my shirt. Jameson removes it from my body.

“I’m going to take your bra off now.” His hands hover over the clasp, waiting for my response.

“Okay.”

I’m almost speechless, but I manage to get that out.

He undoes the clasp with expertise. As he slides the straps off my shoulders, I reflexively cross my arms over my chest, keeping my bra from falling forward. Jameson moves from behind my chair, so now he’s kneeling in front of me. I look down at him.

“Are you alright?”  He’s searching my face; I’m assuming trying to get a read of my emotions.

As I see the concern on his face, I realize my feelings for Jameson are intensifying. Not just the sexual ones – they’ve always been pretty intense – but there are other emotions beginning to swirl in.

Without a word, I drop my hands and let my bra fall into my lap. His eyes go down and I watch as he takes in my chest. His eyes come back to mine and his hand gently cradles my neck. He brings his face close and rest his forehead against mine. “I’ve been waiting for this…”

“For what?”

I know what it is, but I want to hear him say it. But instead of saying anything, he kisses me. Another one of his soft ones. The kiss deepens and I moan into his mouth.

His hand goes down my neck and onto my one of breasts. His thumb brushes over my nipple. His tongue swipes against my bottom lip and I grab onto his hair. He massages my hardened peak, making me fiercely crave more friction between us. When our mouths come a part, we’re both breathless.

“I think you need to take off some of your clothes, as well.” He gives me a smirk and presents himself to me.

“Why don’t you help me with that.” He raises an eyebrow like it’s a challenge and my hands go up to remove his suit jacket.

As I remove it, and then partly unbutton and half remove his shirt, I run my hands down his arm and feels his hard muscles. I’m about to have sex with a very in shape man. Very fit. And, surprisingly, he has tattoos that line his chest and arms.

I’d never even thought about tattoos before. But they seem fitting on him: a bad boy billionaire boss, who clearly wants to take me right here, right now, in his office. Yes.

“Very fit, indeed…”

“What was that?”

Dammit! I keep saying my thoughts out loud without realizing it. And they’re always the most embarrassing things.

I drop my hand from his arms and look down. I start stammering out an explanation and Jameson starts to chuckle. And once again, his laughter makes me laugh. I love the way we sound together.

“It’s fine. I know I’m very in shape,” he says this with a smile— well, more of a smirk. “And I like how you say what you’re thinking when you’re off your guard. I like that I knock you off guard.”

I bite my lip in an attempt to conceal my own growing smile.

“Why don’t you show me how in shape you are?” Soon, he has his shirt all the way unbuttoned. He lets it fall to the floor next to my own clothes and he’s standing before me, completely shirtless. He was not lying. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“Wow.”

That last one’s a whisper. I’m almost speechless. I stand up and run my hands down his stomach. My finger buzz as I touch his abs. I look into his eyes.

“I’m about to have sex with you.” It is a stupid thing to say, but I can’t seem to help it. And he seems to like it.

Jameson runs a finger along my cheek.

“You’re about to have sex with me,” he repeats my words and they settle in. “I’m going to take you now, for your very first time.”

“Yes. Take me, Boss.”

It’s all finally happening. And, at this point, it feels inevitable, like it was meant to happen. There are so many questions I want to ask. The main one being that if tonight moves forward, is this where it ends? I don’t want it to end, but I’m also too scared to ask. What if I don’t like the answer?