“Not going to happen,” Blair mutters into her phone as I’m passing by her office after my chat with Jack’s client. “I’m telling you—there’s no way to trace it back. I’ve crossed every T and… Don’t be paranoid, Will.”

Her door is open a crack, and I can see her leaning against the desk in front of her huge window, her back to the door. She’s obviously talking to Lulu’s crusty boss, and it’s clear from the annoyance in her voice that she’s not getting her way.

“Let me worry about that,” she says. “You just hold up your end of the deal.”

A deal? With Will?

I don’t need my spidey sense to know this conversation is not on the up-and-up, but as much as I’m dying to listen in for something that might help Lulu, I can’t keep lingering outside Blair’s door—not after our run-in outside Ian’s office. She’ll think I’m snooping on her.

Which I am. But a girl—even one in disguise—can only handle so much snooping in a single bound. Bringing down the hiring manager from hell will have to wait until I slay a few finance-world dragons.

The rest of the day passes in a crazed frenzy, but I make time to pounce on my leftovers for lunch—day-old drunken noodles are even better than fresh, especially when accompanied by memories of the naughty things that came to pass the first time I relished this meal—and I’m still going strong at five-fifty when an email pops into my inbox.

---

---

Fighting a smile, I’m about to reply, but change my mind when I remember the email waiver I signed on my first day as a fake employee. All S&H emails are subject to monitoring, and I’m not giving anyone here a glimpse into our illicit workplace shenanigans.

Those are my workplace shenanigans. Mine and Jack’s.

So instead, I grab my phone and text.

---

---

Face going hot, I bite my lip, grateful there’s almost no one left to see me blush. Just a couple of stragglers from accounting headed for the door. Even Blair’s office is empty—I checked on my way to the bathroom a few minutes ago.

Which means, I’m cleared to head for the executive wing.

And God, I can’t wait.

Somehow I’ve managed to get work done today, but it hasn’t been easy. Not with half my brain replaying every touch, every kiss, every second of my red-hot evening with my sexy boss man. It doesn’t help that Jack’s wearing a steel gray suit so expertly tailored it hugs every inch of him, from his broad shoulders, to his spectacular backside, to those powerful thighs that were shifting against mine for hours last night.

I now know what it feels like for Jack to urge my legs wider with a flex of one toned quad, and the knowledge has weighed tingly upon me all day. I haven’t been able to go more than a minute or two without a zing of sense-memory shivering across my skin. I’ve been in such a bad way that the first time Jack breezed by my cubicle around noon, I’m pretty sure I drooled.

Luckily, I’d already fetched my noodles from the break room, so there was a reasonable drool-trigger sitting right in front of me.

Now, however, there’s no excuse for the way my cheeks heat and my heart races. No excuse for the way I practically dance through empty hallways to Jack’s door, my heart in my throat and my breath already coming faster. Just the knowledge that Jack’s hands will soon be on my skin is enough to make me dizzy.

And then he opens the door at my light knock, his gaze every bit as hungry as it was when he laid me out on his bed last night and showed me all the sexy, seductive things I’ve been missing, and the last of my cool evaporates in a puff of lust-colored smoke.

“You summoned me, sir?” I ask.

“Get in here, Eric,” Jacks says in a voice that goes straight to my already trembling thighs. “We have something serious to discuss.”

“Oh, no. That sounds…serious,” I say as I step over the threshold.

“It sure fucking is.” A second later, Jack has slammed the door closed and pressed me back against the thick wood, his fingers digging into my waist as his mouth meets mine in a bruising kiss. And even with my Eric mustache still in place, the moment Jack’s lips meet mine, I catch fire.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I gasp as I lock my arms around Jack’s neck and hold on tight, devouring him.

I am incapable of restraint with this man. I couldn’t hide the way he makes me feel if I tried, so I don’t bother. I arch closer, rubbing myself shamelessly against him, moaning in appreciation of the steely length swelling behind his fly as he draws us both across the room toward his desk.

“Me, too. How can you get me this hot with that stupid mustache on?” He guides my suit coat over my shoulders, stripping it roughly down my arms before reaching for his own.

“Like I said, maybe you have unexplored desires.” My breath rushes out as Jack grips my ass, pulling me tight to where he’s so deliciously thick. My arousal spikes hard and fast, making my words husky as I add, “There’s no shame in swinging both ways.”

“Do you swing both ways, beautiful Ellie?” he asks, his eyes glittering as he reaches for my tie.

I shake my head, mesmerized by the heat in his gaze as he expertly unshackles me from my Windsor knot. “No, I don’t, beautiful Jack. I enjoy cock. Especially yours.”

“Enjoy,” he echoes with a frown, tossing my tie to the floor. “That’s a flabby word, Seyfried. I expected something stronger from a grammar enthusiast of your caliber.” He slips the top button on my shirt through its hole, making my nipples pull tight beneath the elastic bandages binding them to my chest.

“Relish?” My tongue sweeps out to dampen my lips as he continues to slowly, seductively work open my shirt.

He hums thoughtfully. “Relish is good. Crave would be better.”

“How about worship?” I’m teasing as I say it, but the word isn’t outside the realm of possibility. A couple more nights like the last one, and I’ll be on my knees, singing cock-praising hymns and making offerings to the God of Orgasms.

“Worship is excellent. I certainly worship all of…” He trails off as he strips my shirt down my arms, uncovering the bandages binding my chest. Wincing, he runs a finger beneath the tightly stretched fabric “Doesn’t this hurt?”

“No. At least, it didn’t.” I tug at the knot of his tie as I continue in a softer voice, “Until I needed you to touch me. So badly.”

“Me, too, El. So bad,” he murmurs, popping open the safety pin holding my bandages closed. “I’ve been dreaming about having you in my mouth all day. Of the taste of your skin and your nipples hard on my tongue.”

Before I can confess I’ve been dreaming about the same thing, he spins me in a circle, lifting me to sit on his desk. A beat later, my bandages are unraveled, and Jack is unraveling me.

The feel of his mouth on my breasts—sucking and biting my nipples until I’m squirming on his desk in anticipation—is even more intense than before. I’m dizzy, reeling, so drunk on his touch, his kiss, that I don’t remember when he disposed of my shoes or pants.

I only come back to myself as he squeezes the sock stuffed down my underwear with a sharp huff. “Pretty sure this is the weirdest office sex ever,” he says.

“But hot.” I reach down to rub his erection through his boxers.

“So hot,” he echoes, grinning as he tugs the sock out and tosses it to the floor.

Laughing, I pull him down for another kiss, but soon nothing is funny. Soon, I’m lost, yearning and aching and so desperate for him that the moment he reaches for a condom from his desk drawer, a sob of relief bursts from deep in my chest.

“Oh yes, please.” I reach down, helping him roll the latex down his fever-hot length. “Inside me, Jack. Now.”

“Yes, Ellie, yes.” He drives home with a groan that so perfectly echoes the mixture of bliss and relief coursing through me that it opens the floodgates. As he begins to move, sounds pour from my lips—words and moans and not-at-all restrained cries that fill the air as he takes me there.

There.

Oh, God, right there, the place where I’ve only ever been with him, this man who plays my body like a musician who’s studied his instrument for years, learning all the secrets that make it sing.

“So good,” I gasp, nails digging into the tight muscles of his ass, drawing him closer. “So damn good.”

“You make me crazy, El,” Jack growls against my mouth as he drives into me harder, faster, building the tension low in my body. “God, baby, I can’t wait to feel you come. To feel you lose control on my cock.”

I whimper in agreement as I hang on tight, bracing myself for another out-of-body experience. And then Jack slips his hand between our sweating, striving bodies, applying the perfect amount of pressure to my already humming clit, and I’m spinning.

Soaring.

Spiraling.

I come apart, shattering into a thousand glittering shards that catch and reflect and magnify the bliss pulsing through my body until it’s almost too much.

Too intense, too sweet, too perfect.

By the time Jack shoves deep, coming with a groan that makes me feel powerful in a way I never dreamt a man’s orgasm could—I did this to him, I made this incredible man fall apart—my throat is tight, and tears are stinging the backs of my eyes.

I wrap my arms around Jack, swallowing hard, fighting to regain control before he notices my emotional meltdown.

But I should know better. Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, gently cupping my face. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shake my head and force a soft, “No.”

“Then what is it?” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “You can talk to me, El. I’m not going to bite.”

My lips twitch up at the corners. “Not true.”

He smiles. “You know what I mean.”

“I know.” I blink fast as I lift one shoulder and let it fall. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s good. Too good, I guess. I’m not accustomed to super magical nuclear powered fab-gasms. Caught me off guard.”

His grin stretches wider and his chest puffs up, making me laugh.

“Oh man,” I say with a sigh. “Your ego just grew three sizes, didn’t it?”

“Like the Grinch’s heart when he brought back Christmas,” Jack says, summoning another giggle from my lips and banishing the last of the tension. “But I’ll try not to be too insufferable about it. Though, I would like ‘Super Magical Nuclear Powered Fab-Gasm Giver’ in my obituary. Could you arrange for that to happen?”

I nod and promise seriously, “Absolutely. Though, I may have to make an anonymous tip to the paper to avoid traumatizing my brother with my dark sex secrets.”

Jack’s smile dims a watt or two. “Yeah, there is that.”

“There is, but we don’t have to talk about it.” I curse myself for killing the mood with a dumb joke.

“No, we don’t,” Jack agrees, his eyes narrowing on my upper lip. “What do you say we forget about Ian and Eric and work and go grab a drink somewhere fun? Preferably somewhere with a rooftop bar and a killer view?”

“Sounds great,” I say. “Except for the Eric part. I have nothing to wear except my suit.”

Jacks makes a scoffing sound. “Easily remedied. We go to your place first, then we go out.”

My brows lift. “You’re willing to come all the way to Queens for me?”

“I’d go a lot farther than Queens, baby,” he says, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. “Can you say the same about Vin Diesel? I think not.”

My heart starts beating faster again, but lust isn’t the only thing pumping through my bloodstream. There’s something sweeter mingled in with the physical longing, something that makes me feel warm from head to toe, even though I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing and Jack’s office is always cooler than the rest of the floor.

“Then let’s get going,” I murmur against his lips. “There’s a great Indian place on my block called Masala. Best naan in the five boroughs, and the owner’s daughter plays ukulele on Tuesday nights.”

Jack pulls away with an arched brow. “Ukulele? And this is a selling point?”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” I say, reaching for my shirt. “She’s gifted, and she takes requests.”

“Oh, well, that’s a different story,” Jack says, sarcasm thick in his voice.

I smile. “I’m going to ask for Mother by Danzig.”

He snorts in laughter, making me feel unreasonably proud of myself. I love making him lose control, this man who is usually the master of himself and all he surveys.

“Or maybe some death metal,” I add. “Death metal and ukulele are brilliant together.”

“I noticed you had a strange record collection.” He steps into his pants. “I’ll have to take a closer look while you’re showering. See just how deep the weirdness runs.”

“To the bone, baby,” I say, my heart skipping a beat when he laughs and reaches over to affectionately slap my bottom.

“I believe it.” He reaches past me for his phone, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he moves. “I’m calling a car. I’m too hungry to take the subway.”

“Perfect,” I say, that warm-from-inside feeling flooding through me all over again.

It is perfect. All of it. From the explosive sex to the sweet forehead kiss to sharing another meal with Jack and everything in between.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to get in way over my head. I shouldn’t be fraternizing with one of the CEOs of the firm I’m writing about, especially not when I’m already related to the other CEO. And I certainly shouldn’t be starting to fall for him, or daydreaming about this becoming something more than naked fun between two old friends.

Eventually, I’ll have to make some tough decisions about this story, and I don’t want my judgment to be clouded by complicated feelings, especially when those feelings aren’t reciprocated.

Jack is a man of the world. He probably has loads of experience keeping sex and emotion separate. Yes, he cares about me as a friend and his partner’s sister, but that’s all this is.

Friendship and orgasms…

Right?

I glance over at Jack, who is giving our address to the car service, and he winks, his lips stretching into a smile that’s so much more open than the old Jack smile I used to know. Open and so warm I want to wrap it around me and snuggle up with a good book. Preferably a romance novel, something I’ve been avoiding in recent, lonely years, but which suddenly sounds like fun.

Great, now I’m having snuggle-reading fantasies about Jack to go with all the sex ones.

I’m definitely headed for trouble, but at the moment I can’t bring myself to care. Life is a lot more complicated outside my solo-writer, shower-optional lair, but it’s also a hell of a lot more fun.

And that’s what we have—fun.

From the car ride to Queens, to the quickie in the shower as I get changed, to our long, leisurely, laugh-filled dinner accompanied by the musical stylings of Riya and her Rockin’ Ukulele, the evening is pure goodness. It’s so good I don’t want it to end, but after he walks me back to my place, I let Jack call a car anyway. No matter how much I would like to invite him to stay over, I have to maintain some boundaries. If I don’t, I’ll have even farther to fall when this is over and Jack and I go back to the way we were.

Too late. Things are never going back the way they were, a voice in my head whispers as I kiss Jack goodbye and he slides into the waiting town car.

But it’s not the usual voice of doom. It’s a voice I don’t recognize, but it’s telling the truth. I can feel it in my bones, in my blood, in the warm hum of happiness that follows me up the elevator, down the hall, and sees me tucked into bed with a smile on my face.

And for once, I don’t try to talk myself back down to earth with reminders of all the things there are to be afraid of. I stare out the window at the stars fierce enough to be seen above the big city lights and let myself make a wish or two, wondering if Jack might be looking at those same stars right now and doing the same.