Working alone is better than being alone.

Except when you’re not.

The floor is dark and quiet for the night but the tell-tale light emanating from down the hall in my office is exactly what I was dreading.

Lucy is still at her desk, tapping furiously at her laptop. I’ve trained myself not to look at her for too long, but tonight there’s no helping it.

Rather than the prim-yet-sexy secretary thing she usually has going on, Lucy is in a bright pink cropped top that looks more like a sports bra than a shirt. And her hair, which is usually down and straight is twisted and piled up in a loose knot on top of her head, a cascade of wisps hanging down the sides of her face. She’s chewing furiously on a pencil as she types, a habit I snapped at her to stop doing the very first week she began working for me.

Whatever she’s pounding out, it has her full attention. She hasn’t seen me yet. While I watch from the door, she takes the pencil out of her mouth and sticks it in her hair before she leans a bit into the screen to check her work. While she’s reading, she raises her arms up above her head in a long stretch, turning her head from side to side. Then she drops her head back, stretching more, and all I can see is smooth toned skin, and her breasts lifted high. I want to run my hand down the long column of her neck, then down, down to—“

“Lucy.” I say her name quietly, trying not to scare her.

“Aaah!” She jumps a mile when she screams, completely out of her chair.

I hold my hands up. “Just me. It’s OK.”

That little bit of news only seems to fluster her more.

“Dominic? What are you—“ Did you forget something? Can I help?”

I can’t help it. I can see the rest of her now. She’s wearing a matching pair of yoga pants, low on her hip bones. Any question I might have had about whether the body beneath her work clothes was as hot as I imagined is answered right there. Hot damn.

“No. I just thought I’d come in for a bit, do some work instead of sit at home.”

“Oh,” she says. “Well, can I bring you something? I was just working on—“

“No, Lucy, stop. Go home. Why are you even here? Why are you dressed like that?”

She looks down at herself and blushes hard. She’s also barefoot, with pretty toes painted red.

“I was waiting to hear confirmation about the Foster deal, and then I was going to hit the gym before I headed home.”

“And? The meeting started at four-thirty.”

She tilts her head. “It only ended at eight-thirty.”

“Right.” Foster’s last minute dog-and-pony show kept everyone late.

Lucy is closing up again, her eyes hooded as she waits out the interrogation. All she did was stay late to do her job.

Suddenly, I’m tired. I keep snapping and snarling at Lucy for things that are not her fault. Even I can tell I’m being a dick.

“Listen, Lucy, I’m sorry. I’m interrogating you, but I can see you stayed late even though you weren’t asked to. You’re dedicated and you’re doing a great job.”

I was going to say that little piece and then push on to my office, but Lucy’s face breaks into the most triumphant, happy smile I’ve ever seen. Her whole face softens and shines and for the first time in my life, I know what the saying “her smile can light up a room” really means. She’s stunning.

“Thank you,” she says, softly. And then she bites her lip.

Instant hard-on. That little bite is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, hotter than the heels, hotter than the pin-up girl stockings she wears every goddamned day just to drive me crazy.

We’re still standing in the open foyer and I feel like a teenager, holding my jacket over my arm so she won’t see the freaking tent pole in my slacks. I head for my office, thinking the conversation is over.

Instead, she’s followed me. That body… pin-up girl morphed into a spandex sex kitten gift. When I realize I’m staring, I try to cover.

“I’ve never seen you in workout clothes before.”

She blushes again. I’m starting to enjoy how easy it is to make her do that.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. I was going to go to the gym after work, but then the emails started flying and I—“

“No, no,” I say, cutting her off. “You look great.” When I see her eyes widen, I pull myself up, worried that now I sound like a harassing dick. “Different, I mean. I’m used to your work clothes. You always look so professional.”

She puts a hand to her hair, self-consciously.

“And I like the hair. You look like…” Shut up, Dominic.

“Like what?”

I drop down into my office chair and sigh. Too late to turn back now. “You look like this teacher I had in school. She wore her hair all up high like that.”

Lucy’s eyes spark with a little mischief. “Did you like this teacher?”

“Let’s just say I liked…certain things about her. Her hair being one of them.” What I don’t say: I liked her hair, and I liked the way her tits bulged behind her too-tight sweaters. Very much the way Lucy’s are tucked in that bra top thingy, or whatever the hell it is.

My eyes drop to her breasts straining through the fabric. Then to the smooth, taut skin of her bare midriff. I’ve imagined her naked more than a few times, and this is more of her than I’ve ever seen in real life. The skin-hugging spandex leaves nothing to the imagination, and my brain is on fire. She’s just standing there dry and ready for the gym, but I picture her panting and wet after a workout. It’s almost as hot as the very real way her ass and hips twitch in the pencil skirts and heels she wears to work every day.

“Are you still going to make it to the gym tonight?” I ask the question, but by the relaxed way she’s leaning in the doorway, she doesn’t look like she’s in any hurry to go. And for a change, I’m not anxious to shoo her away. The lights are low in the office this late, and she’s a sexy silhouette in the darkened doorway with only the desk lamp glowing behind her.

When she doesn’t answer, I open the side drawer of my desk and pull out a hidden bottle of scotch. Against my better judgement, I hold the bottle out.

“Join me?”

She doesn’t make any ironic jokes about offering her alcohol after I bit her head off about it tonight. She walks to the bar panel set into the right wall and brings out two tumblers. Instead of retreating back to the other side of the desk, she brings them straight to me. Our eyes meet when she gets close. When she puts one of the tumblers in my hand our fingers touch.

Lucy doesn’t pull away. Seated like this while she stands over me, those mouth-watering tits are only inches from my face. I put the glass on the desk in front of us, but I keep her hand in mine, rubbing the pad of my thumb on the inside of her palm. Her hands are silky soft. We stay like that for almost a minute. It’s a silent question. If she pulls away, I’ll dismiss this moment like it never happened. If she stays…

Lucy always surprises me. She puts the glass on the desk next to the scotch. Then, without a word, she takes my hand back into her own and puts it on the smooth, exposed skin of her waist.

I don’t hesitate. The next second, I’ve taken both her hips in my hands and pulled her forward to my mouth. The first part of her I will ever kiss is her stomach, the inside hollow of one of her hips. When my tongue touches the smooth skin of her midriff, she makes the sexiest little moan in the back of her throat, I just can’t wait to see what other sounds I can draw out of her.

I feel her hands slide up and into my hair, pressing me closer, urging me on. With an impatient tug, I pull her forward and up to straddle me in the chair, and when she’s fully in my arms, we finally kiss. Lips, teeth, tongues. Her mouth is like candy, soft and sweet, moving perfectly with mine. My tongue tangles with hers and then I drag my mouth lower to her neck. The way she surges up and then cuddles closer, I know her neck is sensitive. Definitely something to note later.

Nestled in my lap like this, I can feel how strong her thighs are by the way she clenches around me. My hands wander up from her hips to her breasts and she pulses against me once, twice, as I push her nipples up and over the lip of the stretch crop top. They’re hard as berries and just as sweet on my tongue. I give the left a soft, light bite and Lucy moans again. Something else to keep in mind.

Her hands clench in my hair again and she pulls my head away from her breasts to kiss me, all the while her hips keep surging back and forth, riding and grinding down on my cock. The way she’s heating up, her hips flicking again and again, I can only imagine what’s going on down below.

But I don’t have to imagine anymore. With my tongue in her mouth, I surge up and out of the chair, taking her with me. Her legs instinctively close around my waist as I rise up, but when I turn, I gently place her onto the desk. I have the high ground now, and Lucy is tearing at my shirt and belt. When her hot palm grazes and then cups my cock, I surge against her palm, helpless in that second.

Lucy smiles up at me when she feels my shaft in her palm. I’m not an egomaniac, but I know I have a larger than average cock. From the way her eyes widen and her lips fall open, I can tell Lucy has just figured that out, too.

What I realize I don’t have, though, is a condom. I don’t usually fuck at work—it’s not my style. Not until tonight, apparently. I brush Lucy’s hair out of her face. When she nuzzles my palm and then nips at my thumb, I run the pad over her lower lip, briefly considering. She flicks the tip of her tongue out and I’m aching to slip my cock between these lips.

It’s the knowing, sly smile as she looks up at me through her lashes while she undoes my belt that makes me change my plans. It’s a naughty, “I win” look of challenge, and something inside me roars to life.

Oh no. Looks like Miss Lucy Warner needs to remember who‘s the boss in this office.

I pull my belt away from her prying fingers and take both her hands in mine, pressing them briefly behind her back.

“Miss Warner, I believe we talked about this.”

“About what?” Lucy asks as she leans forward, straining to keep kissing me, but I lean back out of reach. When she settles back, I nuzzle into her neck again, trailing my tongue back down. When Lucy can’t reach me, she undulates and tries to press her body closer. I don’t let her move.

“Professionalism,” I say, licking further down her stomach until I hear her breath catch. “Doing what you’re told.” She stops straining, and I look up at her from between her legs and press my mouth to the soft notch between her thighs, emphasizing the point. Her head drops back, her mouth open.

“Lean back. More.” She seems unsure, until I nudge her to lean back on her bent elbows. As she lies back, I run my hands down her body and catch my fingers on the waistband of her lycra pants. With one long smooth peel, the leggings come off and her legs and pussy are bared to me on the desk. She tries to sit up a final time, and reach for me, but I gently press her back. When she obeys, I run a hand up the back of her legs and then to the inside of her thighs.

I settle down between two smooth, creamy soft thighs and just below my mouth, Lucy’s glistening sex is spread and waiting. She’s completely bare, the lips of her pussy lush and full. I let go of her wrists so I can take her ass in both of my hands and pull her closer to the edge of the desk.

Her eyes are wide and staring at me now, on edge. I’m tempted to drop my mouth to her quivering pink slit, but I don’t. Not yet, anyway. Instead, when she’s finally still, I pull both her legs up onto my shoulders and make her watch me push two fingers deep into her tight, wet pussy.

Lucy arches up and back as my fingers sink into her. The sounds she makes are so fucking hot they nearly send me over the edge. Sweet Christ, she’s dripping wet, and I’ve never felt anything like the heat coming off of her. I don’t think she even knows when her hips start to flick back and forth against my hand. With my other hand I steady her body on the desk and press a kiss to the inside of her calf while I watch the pleasure on her face, all the while working my fingers inside her.

But it’s not enough for her. For either of us. Only a moment later, Lucy open hers eyes and looks up at me.

“Dominic,” she says my name, and her voice cracks the littlest bit.

“Something you need, Miss Warner?” I twist my fingers and her head falls back again, her hips grinding faster. Then she tries to pull at my arm to bring me back down to her. When that doesn’t work, she drops her legs from my shoulders and sits up. I finally pull my fingers out and she watches me lick them clean. She tastes amazing and that’s all I need to know for what comes next.

She won’t lie back again, too eager to pull and try to tempt me to give into her, so I drop down into my desk chair while she stays perched on top. Perfectly positioned between her legs, I pull her hips forward to meet my mouth and she half shrieks, half moans when my tongue first slides through the slippery folds. I nuzzle the lips apart with my mouth and then lap at the slit, dragging my tongue from the bottom to the top before I center on her tight, sensitive bud. The instant my tongue touches her clit her hips buck up again. No shyness or hesitation, Lucy’s silky soft thighs immediately press closed on either side of my head. I feel her hands grip my hair again, pulling me into her as though she’s waited for days. I pull her tight against my mouth, sealing my lips around her clit, then flick with my tongue until she’s nearly screaming. She’s so responsive to everything I do to her, learning what she likes is easy as breathing. I’m greedy for more of the taste of her pussy in my mouth and I dip lower once or twice to thrust my tongue deep. But when she starts bucking against my mouth, I move back up to her clit. She’s so wet and ready, still pulling my hair, begging for more. I keep her at the edge for another minute, two, then plunge my fingers back into her just as she goes right over the edge on my tongue.

Even if she didn’t cry out, I can feel the pulses wrack through her and I don’t stop. Her hands still urge my mouth against her, so there’s no reason to stop until she’s limp. I press one last kiss to her clit, and the inside of her thigh until, unable to stay sitting up, she falls back to her elbows. I can see up the long line of her body, her nipples hard as diamonds, her breath ragged.

I stand and yank her up to me, kissing her deep. She’s soft and open, giving in to every demand of my mouth and tongue, ramping up again. My body is screaming to take her like this, rip my pants open and just free my cock to fuck her until we smash through the desk to the goddamned floor.

We both freeze at the sound of a key card beeping in the outer hallway.

“Who the hell?”

“The cleaning crew!” Like a shot, Lucy’s popped off the desk and diving for the floor, frantic for her clothes.

“It’s ok,” I say, handing the pieces to her. “I’ll stop them at the door.”

She doesn’t hear me, focused only on spearing her legs into the leggings.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god...” Lucy wrestles with the leggings and slips them on. I straighten my hair and shirt, then walk to the door and peek my head through.

A stout older woman, singing to herself, is unraveling a vacuum cleaner cord in Lucy’s office. I debate whether I should call out to her or not, but then I notice that she’s wearing a set of large headphones, singing along to whatever music she’s listening to, oblivious. When she switches the vacuum on, I duck back into my office just in time to see Lucy duck out the private side door that leads out of my office to the hall. My escape hatch, I sometimes call it. Fitting tonight.