I sit in my BMW X5 M and let the darkness envelop me. The car park seems deserted and sinister now that most people have left the office. I only see two other cars in this sea of gray concrete.

I turn the air conditioner on. Maybe it’ll help cool my head.

I’m the last person who should hang around her.

That quickly became apparent earlier tonight, when it was just the two of us at the office and I almost couldn’t hold myself back.

I didn’t know it was her at first. After ending a phone call with a supplier in China, I took off my earphones and heard someone typing and clicking, so I peeked out my office door to check.

And there she was, sitting in the dark, with only the cool blue light from the computer monitor illuminating her. She had her back to me. I could just make out her silhouette, the outline of her long blonde hair shimmering like a halo.

She wore her hair loose and straight tonight. It looked so soft and shiny. Before I could stop myself, a mental image of her appeared in my mind — her kneeling in front of me, panting with her full lips around my cock and her ponytail in my fist.

I quickly shooed that thought away.

She looked so absorbed in whatever she was doing, I didn’t have the heart to break the silence and surprise her.

So, like some creep, I stood in the darkness and watched her. I almost forgot how oblivious she can be to her surroundings.

When the phone rang and she walked over to Lily’s desk, I could see she was wearing a tight navy pencil skirt and a black button-down shirt that fit just as snugly, outlining her feminine curves.

She moved fluidly, with poise. Straight posture, head held high, shoulders back.

On impulse, my gaze fixated on the way her hips swayed as she walked. It was hypnotizing. I started imagining those hips rocking on top of me, her head tilted back and her breath coming out in short, erratic gasps.

It’s crazy the way she turns my brain cells into filthy muck.

She reached the desk and bent down to use the corded landline phone, completely unaware and vulnerable. It was so fucking hard to stop myself from just walking over there, pushing her down until she was fully bent over the desk, and having my way with her right then and there in the middle of the office.

When she moved her stuff to Lily’s desk, I groaned inwardly.

There was an important folder there that I needed for tomorrow’s meeting, and now I couldn’t just grab it and slip away into the darkness. I had to literally take the file from under Emily’s nose. Which meant I had to talk to her.

Why was she staying so late in the office anyway?

I wondered if she was having problems fitting in, if there were people making her do their work for them.

I know Steffi isn’t too happy about me hiring Emily without consulting her, even though she does need a junior marketing person and, by all accounts, Emily is doing well.

I don’t know why she’s complaining, although it might have something to do with the fact that I did Emily’s interview myself.

It’s ancient history now, but Steffi and I once went out for drinks with a bunch of other marketing people. And she ended up spread-eagled on my bed screaming my name by the end of the night.

It was just that one time. But since then, she started dropping a few obvious hints about “having drinks” together. It became such a big pain in the ass that I decided to never have any personal dealings with my employees outside of the office.

I know, I know. Work and personal should be separate. That’s something any idiot should know, but what can I say? I’m just the kind of idiot who has to find out for myself and learn from experience.

Evidently, now that Emily’s working here, I’ve thrown that notion out the window.

I wonder if Steffi could be so unprofessional as to dump all her work on Emily out of spite.

I’ve been so busy with meetings I don’t spend as much time at the office anymore. I just got back from New York last night, and I already had a conference in Seattle scheduled for next week.

To be completely honest, with Emily at the office, I’d rather stay put here. I still don’t trust myself to get too close to her, but I can at least watch over her, make sure she’s doing okay, find out if anybody’s hurting her.

The longer I watched her in the dark office, the angrier I got. She wasn’t supposed to have so much work that she had to stay back so late at the office. And why the fuck was she working alone anyway? Where was the rest of her team?

Fueled by rage, I approached her, making sure to make some noise as I walked so she’d know I was coming.

When she looked up to see me, her eyes got big and worried, like she got caught doing something wrong. It made me want to scoop her up, stroke her shiny hair, and tell her everything was going to be okay. I was going to get back at the bastards who took advantage of her.

“Hi, Cole,” she said.

I can’t remember what I said to her, but I know it didn’t go very well. I probably came across as angry — which I was, but not at her.

When she started defending her colleagues, I had to stop myself. I don’t want to be the angry boss that everyone secretly hates, at least not in her eyes. I couldn’t care less what the rest of them think of me.

So instead of spewing more stupid angry shit, I went and asked her to come home with me.

That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever said in my life. But to be fair, I couldn’t help myself, with her sitting there all doe-eyed and irresistible.

Fuck. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?

I haven’t even taken another woman to my bed since that night I saw her at the bar.

I can’t stop thinking about how close Emily was, how I could’ve just swept everything off the desk, claimed her sinfully delicious body, and made her mine.

Because I’ve seen the way she looks at me.

People think my success with the ladies comes from my looks, my money, or my charm. Sure, those things help. But the real key is knowing exactly which woman to pick up at any given bar, which one would be open to my persuasion.

And Emily? Well, let’s just say I can tell she wants me too.  

But Emily Webb is off limits. So off limits it’s not even funny.

Let me paint you a picture.

There are seven billion people on this planet. And out of those seven billion people, she’s the one person I shouldn’t mess around with. Literally anybody else — including the people who are married, or gay, or both — would be a better choice.

I knew I was playing with fire when I hired her. If I get any closer, I could lose everything. And yet I’m acting like a bedazzled moth, circling toward certain death and not caring.

Oh well, at least next week I’ll be out of town again. I could use the time apart to cool the fuck down. Because no amount of air conditioning could help as long as Emily is within my reach.