Hard Bargain

Your dirty boss wants to tie you up. 

And not just in meetings.

I'm a terror in the business world. 

A billionaire CEO with the body of a god. 

You want to stop me? I'll bankrupt you and turn you into dust. 

No one can stop me from taking what I want. 

Until Kylie. 

She didn't try to stop me from having her.

She wanted me. I could see the desire in her eyes. 

But once wasn't enough. Now I want more. 

She has no idea the depravity of my mind.

But once she finds out she'll want to please me in any way possible.

But there are people who want to take us down. 

Try to use the company's rules against us.

They better watch out. 

Because Kylie and I...we're about to make this workplace positively filthy.

No cliffhangers or cheating. HEA guaranteed.

Wes

I'm in the meeting room with Leon again, and he's not happy. I've lost count of how many times I'm holed up with the guy, but I'm CEO, and it's my job to meet with my senior managers from time to time.

I meet with Leon more than anyone else. He’s always complaining about something.

There's nothing pleasant about Leon. He's closer to fifty than sixty, but since he found out about his wife Martha having cancer, he's become an old man overnight. His blond hair has grayed at the temples, and every day new wrinkles seem to appear between his brows and around his mouth. They’re not from smiling.

It shouldn't happen to a person – you would think that thirty years of marriage would give a man some protection against bad luck, a reward for sticking it out so long. Even one who’s a dick like Leon. The universe is not known for its kindness.

"What the fuck were you thinking?” Leon asks. His voice is louder than I like it to be. Again.

“Language, please, Leon. We’re in the office.”

“I don’t care where the hell I am,” he says. At least he avoided fuck. “If you’re going to bump up a little ditz from the front desk I’m going to say something about it.”

And he has. Leon has been “saying something about it” for the last half hour.

“Jordan deserves the position, Leon. You’ve seen her résumé. You know how impressive it is.”

“Her attitude stinks. She walks around like she’s God’s gift to man and I’m not going to oversee her.”

Leon has been a senior manager in my tech department for a long time. He’s good at what he does, and most of the time I trust his judgment. Most of the time. Since Martha became ill, I don’t know if he’s as reliable as he used to be. You can separate your personal life from your business life all you want; if someone close to you is dying, it changes you.

“She has an MBA, Leon. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.”

“Her attitude stinks.”

So does yours , I think, but I don’t say as much. It will only make him angrier, and he’s pissed already.

“You can’t shoot her down before we give her a chance. We wanted to hire internally. She’s the best we’ve got.”

“Find someone else,” Leon says.

I’m getting pissed off now, too. This guy thinks he’s going to tell me how to do my job?

“Leon, I appreciate that you’re open with me, but I’m still your superior. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Leon makes a face at me that tells me he’s not happy, but he bites his tongue. Smart man. At least this time. Instead, he paces the meeting room. I watch him from my chair at the six-seater table.

I can fire him on the spot if I want to. God knows he’s had enough warnings from me to be out of here already, but I don’t want to fire the guy. He’s got chemo to pay for, chemo that might not even work.

Losing your job when your life goes up in flames is a different kind of hell.

“I don’t like it, Wes,” Leon says.

I nod. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

Leon narrows his eyes at me. “Sorry for what?”

I sigh. “Everything you’re going through.”

His face softens and I glimpse the man that already worked here by the time I arrived. Leon used to be the star of RidgeCo, the kind of man that knew exactly what needed to be done to grow a modest San Francisco tech company into something spectacular.

He sits down in the chair he vacated when we started talking about Kylie Jordan. He’s calmer now. Sometimes, all it takes is sympathy.

“So, we’re looking for someone else, then?” he asks.

I shake my head, slowly. I know this is going to blow up in my face, but I’m pulling rank on this one.

“I want her as my project manager, Leon,” I say. “We need her knowledge.”

Leon blinks at me. It’s the silence before the storm.

“I knew it,” he says and jumps up again. There it is. “I knew you were going to fuck me like this.”

I close my eyes, biting back my temper. I can’t lose it and blame Leon for his outbursts.

“Language, Leon,” I say. “And this isn’t personal. It’s business. You of all people should know that.”

Leon’s temper turns into rage. He stomps his legs when he marches around the table toward me. I hold my ground and look up at him when he comes closer, my expression blank. He’s about to push me past my limit, especially when he points a finger in my face.

“You don’t know what’s good for this company,” he shouts.

“Leon,” I start, but his temper has taken over. His eyes go a little crazed, and I wonder if it’ss wise to keep him on when he’s acting like this. Leon grabs the closest chair and throws it. It bounces away awkwardly – it’s a standard office chair with a padded seat and metal frame – and hits the wall. Lucky for Leon, it doesn’t damage anything.

Leon storms past me and out of the meeting room. I’m left behind with the taste of anger still on my tongue.

I sigh and scrub my face with my hands. Insubordination like this is wrong. If he does it in front of any of my employees, I’ll have to let him go. So far, it’s only happened in front of me, and I feel sorry for the guy. I probably shouldn’t – we all have shit in our lives. But the man seems more and more unhinged by the day. And this irrational reaction to Kylie? It’s too much, even for Leon.

I push myself out of my seat, right the chair Leon threw, and leave the meeting room.

When I go down the third floor – one floor below mine, now – Kylie is at her new desk. The promotion is effective from today. She’s a vision. Long wavy her, the blond so dark some call it light brown, hangs over her shoulders. She hasn’t seen me yet, but I know without her looking at me that her eyes are the color of chocolate. Once you’ve seen them, you can’t forget. A splash of freckles on her nose makes her look younger than her twenty-eight years.

I walk to her desk, and she looks up at me. When she sees it’s me, she smiles. It spreads across her face like a sunrise, and I smile back at her. She’s beautiful, but it’s not just a perfectly sculpted face that gets me. She’s fucking hot. She has one of those classic hourglass figures with large breasts, an impossibly small waist and an ass that you can hold onto while you fuck.

And I’ve thought it about. God, help me, I’ve thought about fucking Kylie Jordan. There’s something about her that’s irresistible. When she’s not smiling her lips are in a permanent pout. I can imagine what it would be like having those lips close over my cock, those big brown doe eyes staring up at me.

It won’t be just a fantasy much longer. There are things I know about Kylie. Things she has no idea I’m aware of. Things that she’ll live to regret if I have anything to say about it. It’s almost a shame that someone as fucking gorgeous as she is will have to go down in flames in the end. But at least I’ll enjoy myself making it happen.

I shake off the dark thoughts and clear my throat, giving her a disarming smile that she has no reason to think is anything but sincere.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Wagner?” she asks.

She called me Mr. Wagner in the interview, too. I fucking love that. I want her calling me that while I’m hammering her from behind, but in an effort to keep up the friendly boss act, I shake my head.

“Call me Wes, please.”

She smiles again.

“And I want you to come to the meeting room with me. I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out.”

She nods and gets up. I watch her move. When she walks around her table, she rolls her wide hips, and I turn away, so I don’t stare.

She follows me to the meeting room. I wait for her, let her walk in first, but I don’t close the door behind us. I know my limits. I don’t want to lock myself in a room with her, not today. She’s got a spell over me with her rolling hips and her fuckable mouth, and I don’t want to risk being alone with her. Not yet.

I’m a professional, but God, the way she moves has me hanging on by a thread right now.

“What did you need to talk about?” she asks when I tell her she can sit down. I sit down, too.

“We need to handle the paperwork,” I say. “And then you’re officially my new project manager.”

She smiles widely.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says.

I smile, too. She looks so genuinely happy. It’s almost childlike. I have to hand it to her. She’s good. If I didn’t already know what I do, I’d never suspect she’s anything but authentic.

“Your talents were wasted down at reception,” I say. I don’t know why she was hired as a receptionist in the first place. She should be so much more with her MBA backing her. Now is the chance I know she’s waited for to prove herself.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity,” she says.

I shake my head. “You deserve it.”

She nods. I push the new contract toward her, and she starts reading it. It gives me time to stare at her without her knowing. It’s like poker. You have to know who you’re playing against, find their tells.

Her skin is like porcelain, smooth and blemish free. I want to reach out and touch her. I don’t.

Her blouse is a royal blue, and it makes her skin look paler. It’s perfectly modest, but it’s made of a thin, flowing material, and it traces her ample breasts. They rise and fall as she breathes.

She looks up at me, and I force my eyes to hers.

“I signed it,” she says.

I smile at her.

“Then that’s it,” I say. I hold my hand out to her and she shakes it. Her skin is soft when she touches me, warm, her fingers delicate.

When she stands, I can’t help but look at her body. She’s wearing slacks tight enough that they look painted on. I’m drawn to the apex of her thighs where the slacks are smooth over her pussy. My cock throbs hard and insistent in my pants. It hits me hard. I want to fuck her so badly. I don’t know where it came from – I’m not an animal for God’s sake. I pride myself on my control in every situation. But I want to take this woman.

I can’t stand up now without her seeing my erection. It strains against my pants, wild and trapped. It wants out. It wants to fuck.

When I look at her eyes again they’re large. Her lips are parted, and she swallows. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I swear she’s thinking dirty thoughts, too.

The atmosphere is electric around us. I look at Kylie’s lips, and we’re caught in a spell where time stands still. I can close the distance, now, and kiss her. I want to push my tongue into her mouth. I want to taste her. My cock throbs in my pants. Despite the lust the churns inside me, I manage a hard smile.

“I suggest you go settle into your new desk, Miss Jordan,” I say.

“Call me Kylie, please,” she says, mimicking what I said to her. Fuck, if her sassy attitude doesn’t make my cock even harder. I nod.

She smiles at me and leaves the meeting room. I slump in the chair. My cock is so hard it aches. I consider going to the men’s room and jacking off, relieving myself, but I don’t. I stroke myself with one finger and my cock twitches.

I wait until it’s gone down enough to be able to get up. When I walk to my office, I’m irritated. I want to fuck. I want to fuck Kylie. She’s so fucking hot it’s almost a sin. Hot and pure and so seemingly innocent.

Can I really ruin that?

Fuck, yes, I can. I didn’t expect my reaction to her to be so intense. I don’t need to let my lust cloud my judgment. I need to keep my head in the game and only think about her in that way in relation to my endgame. To winning. To coming out on top like I always do.

But I want to see her naked. I want to lick her and kiss her and suck her.

I want to fuck her.

Almost as much as I want to fuck her over.

Kylie

Wes Wagner is the hottest CEO I’ve ever seen. He’s young and serious, perfect for the position, but he also oozes sex appeal. Tall, dark and handsome describes him to a tee. His dark hair is raked out of his face like he uses only his fingers in the morning. It makes him look stylishly rugged. His evergreen eyes are bright and mesmerizing, and I know for a fact that he’s chiseled beneath his business suit.

How do I know? He carries himself like he’s the hottest thing to grace the face of the earth. And he might just be.

I’m not suffering from a girlish crush, either. The sexual tension in the meeting was real. It was so thick I could barely breathe. When Wes looked at me, it was like he was imagining what it would be like to kiss me. Or worse.

Or better.

I can imagine what that would be like. Being pinned down by a man like that? I shiver when I think about it, heat already pooling between my legs. Am I thinking dirty thoughts about my boss?

Damn right I am.

A part of me wants him to dominate me, to take what he wants. He’s one of those alpha males. He’s at the top of the pecking order, and it seems fitting that he would get the women. Woman. Singular. If he’s going to take a woman it should be me.

Of course, I can’t do that. It’s all a fantasy. I can’t fuck the CEO. He’s my boss, and RidgeCo has all sorts of rules about that. Naturally. It’s a professional place, after all.

But even more than that, I can’t be distracted from why I’m really here, working for RidgeCo. I have a singular goal. I didn’t expect an opportunity to implement my plan to show itself so soon. Now that it has and Wes has made me a project manager, I’m one step closer. But all that could be ruined if I let this crazy attraction distract me.

No. I can’t keep thinking about him like that. I can’t imagine what it would be like for him to have me on my back and to spread my legs, to dip his head to my pussy and lick me.

I shiver again. I’m making myself horny thinking about him like this. And I shouldn’t. It’s wrong.

Don’t fuck the CEO. Don’t fuck the CEO. Don’t fuck the CEO .

It’s my mantra for the day.

Forgetting about Wes is impossible. I’m settling into my new desk, unpacking the box I brought up from reception, but my mind is full of him. It was evident in the meeting room that he was thinking the same thing as I am.

He had an erection. He didn’t stand up when I left. And he’s way too much of a gentleman to skip proper manners. No, Wes’s dick was hard. Why do men think women won’t notice it? He wasn’t exactly tucked in beneath the table.

And if the obvious hard-on in his pants wasn’t enough, the way he looked at me said it all.

He looked at me like I was dessert. Well, I’m not exactly going to stop him if he wants to eat me.

I’m doing it again! I shake off the thoughts. I can’t think of him that way. But I really, really want to. Just thinking about him makes me wet. But that’s because he’s so out of reach. I should hate the man. So why does my body respond to him so readily?

What is it they say about forbidden fruit?

If I keep thinking about him, I’m going to drive myself crazy, and without a release that’s a bad idea. I think it’s tacky to do myself in the ladies room, so I bury myself in the mountain of work I have now.

I am a freshly appointed project manager for a new project. RidgeCo is a tech company. Their latest and greatest is wearable technology that can detect changes in the brain’s electrical activity to alert the wearer of a pending seizure. Until now, the technology that RidgeCo has produced has been a luxury only. But something like this can change everything. It would make life for sufferers easier.

Not everyone was happy when I was appointed, but Wes wanted me, and that’s all that matters.

Now that I’m on the project I have a huge amount of research to do to know exactly where RidgeCo stands in their tech development processes. I have textbooks and journals to work through. I almost feel like I’m back in college, but this time I’m getting paid for it.

I got a full scholarship for my undergrad degree but to get my MBA I had to take out a student loan. My dad left my mom when I was in high school, taking his love and most of his financial support with him when he left. Since then I’ve had to fend for myself. This promotion will allow me to pay down my student debts and help my mom be comfortable again. We’ve been living with my gran since high school, and I want to end up giving my mom a place of her own again if I can. She doesn’t deserve this life, even if she wasn’t completely innocent in the downfall of their marriage. She deserves more than the life we were left with, and me taking this job will go a long way toward making things right.

The work I’m studying up on is interesting and a lot easier to understand than I thought. I’m so engrossed that when someone touches me on my shoulder, I jump.

When I spin around, Wes looks down at me.

“Sorry,” he says, but his green eyes don’t look sorry in the least. He has a square jaw, high cheekbones and one of those dimples on his chin that make him look like Adonis. His gaze bores into mine, intense and hard.

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his easy tone contradicting his expression. My heart slows again, and I can think straight.

Like, think about Wes and how close he’s standing to me. I can smell his cologne. I didn’t notice it this morning, but now that he’s this close it’s intoxicating.

“I was just reading up on the project,” I say.

Wes nods and looks at my books.

“Jumping right in, I see. I knew hiring you was the right choice.” He smiles at me.

I smile back at him, and it’s not even forced. His eyes slide to my lips and then my chest, and he makes no point of hiding it. Instead, his eyes find mine again and there’s something in them now that wasn’t there a moment ago. Something hungry. Something delicious.

My heart speeds up a little and an echo of my earlier lust returns. With it, my mantra.

Don’t fuck the CEO, don’t fuck the CEO.

I’m proud of myself. If I can just keep reminding myself of all the reasons why I need to be here. Why I can’t risk losing this job.

“How is it coming along?” he asks.

I nod, looking back at the book I’m working through. “Good, so far. I think I understand the technology.”

He smiles at me again, this time with obvious intent.

“An intelligent woman is attractive.”

I fight a blush. I don’t want to seem like one of those women that can’t handle a compliment. What’s wrong with me? My cheeks burn, anyway, and Wes’s eyes twinkle.

“I want to meet with you to discuss the project,” Wes says. “I’ll be mentoring you on this one, and I think we should get a start on that.”

I nod. “Tomorrow?” I ask.

Wes shakes his head. “I have to shoot out to meet potential clients tomorrow. I’ll be out the entire day. But come to my office on Wednesday.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“Come to my office on Wednesday. We can discuss your plans for this.”

“Alone?” I ask, and the word slips out before I can stop myself. My cheeks flame up again, and I feel like an idiot.

Wes smiles at me. He still has that twinkle in his eye, the promise of mischief.

“If that’s what you want,” he says. His voice is deep, and it tugs at something low down and delicious. I shiver again.

“I’ll be there,” I say, and my voice sounds too breathy. Wes nods and turns away from me. I watch him walk away. He has broad shoulders. His tailor-made blazer hugs his body, and he wears the suit like he’s doing it a favor. I watch his ass as he walks. I like a good ass on a man. Nothing too big but firm and round will do it for me. I don’t like those asses where the pants hang empty, and there’s nothing to hold onto.

Wes Wagner has a delectable ass. I don’t really think there’s something about him that isn’t delectable.

When he’s out of sight, I can think straight again. I press my hands to my cheeks and breathe in slowly. He knows. He knows I want him. If he wasn’t sure before, he knows now after my comment about seeing him alone. God, I’m just an idiot sometimes.

But Wes didn’t seem unhappy that I’m fawning over him.

The rest of the day is spent in a tug of war between focusing on work and fantasizing about Wes. I imagine myself in all sorts of compromising positions with him: against a wall with his one hand pinning my wrists above my head and the other hand between my legs, rubbing my clit. On a desk with my legs spread and his dick inside me. In a shower with hot water running over my body and his thick flesh sliding between my ass cheeks before he finds my entrance and pushes into me from behind.

I know that I’m playing with fire. I’m working myself up for something that might never happen. No, something that can’t happen. I can’t let my unexpected attraction to Wes change anything. Besides, there are rules – RidgeCo is a company that’s strict about relationships between employees, and I don’t doubt they’ll enforce it if someone oversteps the bounds.

Thinking about those rules almost makes me laugh. Ironic that they’re so strictly enforced now that I’m working here.

Wes might be off-limits in real life, but there are no rules about fantasizing about coworkers. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m thinking dirty thoughts about him, and I proceed to do so the rest of the day. Just because I fantasize about it doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.

When I get home that evening, I’m hot and bothered. I want a release. I want to fuck.

My phone rings and I pick it up, relieved about the distraction. It’s Paris.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I just got home from work.”

“Cool.”

Paris is my best friend. I met her at a fundraiser during college. She didn’t raise funds, she just popped in to see what was going on. That’s her attitude – glide through life to see the sights but never partake.

She’s so happy-go-lucky sometimes I envy her carefree life, but I don’t think I’d be able to live like that. She’s my age but she doesn’t have a steady job, and she doesn’t seem intent on getting one anytime soon.

But she’s a great friend, she’ll be there for me no matter what, and if someone will talk sense into me, it’s her. Ironic.

“How are things with Connor?” I ask.

Paris snorts. “Who’s Connor?”

Right. “Did you break it off with him, already?”

Paris sighs. “He’s good in bed, Ky, but he was getting all serious, and I don’t want to be serious.”

I shake my head and take a microwave meal from the freezer. Paris isn’t serious about anything.

“What about you? Any men in your new position worth looking at?”

I swallow. “My boss is hot,” I say.

“Wes?”

“Yeah. But I can’t do anything with him. Company rules, you know?” I chuckle but it’s not funny, it’s frustrating.

“It’s not just the company rules,” Paris says.

“Right. I have a job I can lose,” I point out.

Paris sighs. She knows exactly why I can’t really get involved with Wes. “Tell me about him,” she says. “Talking isn’t a crime, right? Get it out of your system.”

I chuckle. “No, it’s not.” I tell her about Wes, about what he looks like, what he sounds like when he speaks. I leave out that I’ve fantasized about him all day. I leave out I think he’ll be a damn good fuck. I leave out that I want him to take me.

There’s no need for Paris to know how dirty I can get when we both know it’s not going to happen.

When we finally say goodbye, her need for gossip is satisfied, and I’m more sexually frustrated than when I started.

Wes

I can’t get Kylie off my mind. When I asked her to come to my office, I meant for it to be about work. Sure, I want to be locked up in a small space and have my way with her. Yes, she’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and she gives off that innocent vibe in a way that makes me want to fuck it right out of her. Even though based on what I know, she’s anything but innocent.

But she’s also my new project manager, and we have work to discuss.

I would’ve behaved myself and not thought all sorts of dirty things if it wasn’t for her comment about seeing me alone. It doesn’t very often happen to a man that the forbidden fruit he lusts after wants him, too. Well, if that man isn’t me. Doesn’t mean I’m not above temptation.

She asked if she would be in my office, alone. I can’t think of any other reason for her to want to be alone with me than the fact she wants me, too. At least, that’s what I think it is. It’s what I hope it is. It can’t be that she’s trying to make a move this soon.

God, if I had my way with her, I would fuck her on my desk until she cried out. I would take her from behind, pound into her with that ass exposed. I can imagine what her mouth would look like if her lips are stretched around my cock.

I close my eyes and breathe out with a shudder. I am so horny it’s driving me insane. I’m rock hard in my pants, my cock throbbing and my balls are swollen and begging for release.

But I must be a good boy. I can’t lay her down on my couch and fuck her. She works for me, and I’m not allowed to fuck her – we have rules here at RidgeCo. Rules that stop me from having my way with a woman like Kylie because she works for the company the same way I do. I’m not allowed to fraternize with my colleagues.

But God, I want to.

That’s not even the biggest reason I need to keep my hands to myself. Patience, Wes . I’ll have my chance. It’s like a game of chess. I have to keep my strategy firmly in place, even if I do see an opportunity to make a move. Not yet . I just have to bide my time. If everything goes according to my plan, I’ll come out on top, having my way with her and exploding all of her own carefully laid out plans in the process.

I glance at my wristwatch. I sent her an email asking her to be here by two. Where the hell is she?

Just as I think it, a knock sounds on the door and it opens a moment later. She stands in the doorway. A thrill travels through me when I look at her. I wave her in.

She walks into my office, and I watch the way she moves as she turns to close the door again. She’s elegant and graceful in her high heels – some women walk like a newborn calf on their heels because they can’t handle it – and she’s dressed to kill in an office outfit that works as well behind a desk here at RidgeCo as it would in a porno.

She wears a black pencil skirt that hits her mid-thigh. It’s not too short for the office, but it’s pushing it. Her long legs are clad in stockings – I hope to God they’re not pantyhose – and when she turns around, the slit flashes enough thigh for me to know her legs are fantastic. A white blouse is a nice contrast against the black skirt, and it’s unbuttoned just low enough for me to want to know what’s underneath it but not so low that I can find out by staring.

Her hair hangs down her back, wavy and silken.

When she turns to me, she smiles a little nervously. Her lips are a dark red – not a hooker red – and subtle makeup has been applied to her eyes to make them look larger, but she doesn’t look tacky.

She glances around the office for a moment. A large window lets in a lot of light, bookcases to my left and a couch to my right. The desk is in the middle of the room, and the wall behind me displays my degrees and awards and all the things that say nothing about who I really am. She has no idea about the real me.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jordan—Kylie,” I say. “Please, sit down.”

She smiles at me. She walks to one of the chairs that face me. I get up and walk around my desk, sitting down next to her. She watches me, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Just like I know she can’t read my thoughts. Neither of us reveal the subterfuge lying just beneath the surface. The only difference is I’m the only one of us aware we’re both playing dirty.

Game on.

“Hello, Wes,” she says. I like the way my name sounds on her tongue.

“How are you coping in the new positions?” I ask.

She nods. “It’s a little daunting to catch up on so much reading after hours, but I’m managing. I’m enjoying it.” She smiles, and I glance at her mouth. Her lips are plump, the bottom lip a little thicker so that it looks like she pouts, and they’re so damn kissable I have to force myself to look at her eyes again

“I’m glad you’re managing,” I say. “Do you have any questions about the project?”

The business talk is boring, and I can smell her perfume – something light and floral. It’s driving me mad.

“Well, I have an idea here,” she says, and removes a file from the bag she brought with her. She opens it up and shows me what she’s been working on. I look at her handiwork, and somewhere at the back of my mind, I note that her work is good, that she’s done a lot of research and knows what she’s talking about. I also vaguely register that she’s doing a damn good job for someone I know has ulterior motives for working here.

But I can’t get that scent out of my nose, and she’s sitting so close to me I can almost see down her blouse. Almost. My cock is throbbing in my pants again. Smell is the most powerful sense. It can be your fantasy or your nightmare.

In this case, it’s driving me mad. I can’t listen to what she’s saying anymore. I watch her mouth as it moves, explaining her work to me, and all I can think about is kissing her. I know I’m not supposed to think of her as a plaything. She’s my employee. But sex is pinned to my frontal lobe, and I can’t think of anything else.

I don’t want to. Somewhere, I decide to break the rules. It’s not a conscious decision, but it happens all the same.

“I’m sorry, Kylie,” I say, interrupting her sentence. “I’m sure you’re great at your job. I hired you for a reason. But I can’t sit here and pretend I don’t know what’s going on here.”

I get up and walk toward the office door. Kylie watches me as I move. I can feel her eyes on my body. If she sees my hard-on, she doesn’t let on, but I know it’s there, tugging and straining against my pants, begging for a release.

I lock the office door and turn back to Kylie. She’s still watching me, her big brown eyes on mine. She swallows. Does she think I’m onto her? I’m making her nervous, making her sweat. My eyes trace the smooth line of her neck into her cleavage where the blouse is buttoned up too high for me to see her tits. I want to see them.

“What are you doing?” she asks. Her voice has that breathy quality to it, the same as it had on Monday. I love it when she’s flustered like this. It makes me want to take advantage of her. I don’t give a fuck if it sounds bad putting it like that. I can’t help what I want. What I like. With her asking if we could be alone, I know that I’m not taking advantage of her. She wants this about as badly as I do. I’m willing to bet my position in the company on that.

I briefly wonder if it bothers her that I’m affecting her like this. If this throws as much of a wrench in her plans as it does mine. And suddenly, I don’t give a flying fuck if I’m upping my game too soon. It all ends the same anyway, right? With me destroying everything she’s setting out to accomplish.

So why wait? I have to have her. Now.

When I walk back to her, her eyes flick down to my crotch, and I know that she knows I’m hard for her.

“I have to get this out in the open,” I say.

I don’t let her ask me what I’m talking about. If she doesn’t know already, I’m going to show her. When I reach her, I take her hand and pull her up. I grab her around the waist and pull her against me so that her crotch is against mine.

She gasps with a sharp intake of breath when she feels my cock pressing against her. I kiss her, hard. I push my tongue into her mouth, and she doesn’t reject me. Her tongue swirls around mine, and it’s urgent right away. She kisses me back with the same urgency that I’m kissing her. I grind myself against her, gyrating my hips, and she pushes against me hard enough to make the friction possible. I push my hand into her hair, slide it down her neck and onto her chest, pushing my fingers under her blouse. She gasps against my lips when I cup her breast beneath the shirt, my fingers in her bra, reaching for her erect nipple without any warning.

When I pull lightly on her nipple, she moans softly.

She moves my chest away from her without breaking contact between our hips. My fingers make quick work of the top few buttons of her blouse, and I have more access to her breasts. I pull one of them out from the cup so that it’s pushed up by the bra.

When I do the other breast the same and glance down to admire my handiwork, her breasts are on display, pert and ripe, her nipples tight.

I put both hands on her hips and grind myself against her, holding her in place.

Kylie slips her hand between our bodies, pulling away for a moment. Her hands make quick work of the buckle, and I get the feeling she’s done this before. Just like I thought—not quite so innocent, is she? She unzips my pants and reaches into my boxer briefs. Her fingers are hot, and I groan when she wraps them around my cock and pulls me free of the confines of my briefs.

She nudges me toward the couch against the wall, and I step back until I can sit down. I lower myself onto it, and Kylie kneels, spreading my legs with her hands on my knees to allow herself space to move in between them.

Fuck. She’s either just as horny as I am right now, or she’s playing me better than I thought. I can’t even be bothered to care at this point. I just want that hot mouth on my cock.

Her hands are on my cock, and she glances up at me before she bends forward. Her hair hangs in a waterfall around her face. She closes her mouth around my cock, and I gasp. Her lips are hot, and I swear it feels like I’m inside her pussy already. She swirls her tongue around the tip of my cock, tasting me before she pushes her head down and takes more than half of me in her mouth. She meets her lips with her hand, sliding up and down, holding all of me in her palm or her mouth.

I close my eyes and tip my head back. She’s so fucking good at sucking me off, I have to concentrate not to blow my load. But I don’t want to come, not yet. I want so much more from Kylie. I want to make her desperate, make her beg. I want to fuck her.

When I think about fucking her, it brings me closer to the edge, so I focus instead solely on what I’m feeling, the way her lips are soft and hot, the way she manages to suck on me in a way I don’t feel her teeth at all.

She starts bobbing her head faster and faster, working up a rhythm that’s a lot like sex. I buck my hips hard, meeting her mouth. I push my hands into her hair and pull, gripping her head. I hold her and fuck her face, not caring that I’m being rough. From the way she’s moaning on my cock, the hums edging me even closer to a mind-numbing explosion, she likes it like that. And fuck, if that doesn’t make me want her even more.

Too close, I ease back and let her do her thing, feeling her head bob beneath my hands, and I groan. She’s so fucking good at this. I’ve had my share of blowjobs in my life, but she’s by far best at what she’s doing.

I can’t hold out much longer if she keeps going this way, so I gently nudge her head. She stops and looks up at me with impossibly big eyes.

“I can’t hold out if you keep doing that, angel,” I say.

She nods. I pull her up and kiss her. I want her to trade places with me. It’s my turn, now.

Kylie

I can’t believe I’m in Wes’s office, sucking his cock. When I told him I wanted to be alone, I knew he figured out I wanted him, but when we started talking about work, I thought I’d gotten it all wrong.

Until he locked the door and came to me with that look in his eye, the look men get when they’re sure that something is going to happen.

And now I’m on my knees between his legs, his cock hard and straining and glistening from my spit.

“Sit down on the couch,” he orders.

The commanding tone has my pussy clenching. I immediately do as he says. I move so that I’m sitting, and he’s kneeling on the floor. He pushes up my pencil skirt, and the cool air of the room brushes my bare pussy. My stockings are the kind that have lace tops, and I haven’t bothered with panties. I wanted this. I know it’s wrong, but I figured that if we got around to doing this, I would be ready for him. And if not, no one would know any better.

He looks at my pussy, practically salivating before he looks up at my face.

“You’re not wearing anything under here.” It comes out like a growl.

My whole body feels it. I shake my head, smiling at him.

The surprise on his face is worth it. His eyes change before he looks at me again, his pupils dilating, his expression hungry. He pushes the skirt up so it’s bunched around my hips, and I’m naked from the waist down save for my high heels. Wes reaches for me and brushes his fingers along the smooth skin of my labia.

I shiver. He pushes his fingers into my slit and my breathing changes, become faster, shallower. I’m already wet for him – I already was before he started kissing me.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” he asks.

It’s hard to think when he rubs his fingers over my clit. I pull up one shoulder in a half-shrug.

“What if I did?” I ask, but it’s hard to sound arrogant when my voice hitches.

I almost can’t believe I’m doing this. Yeah, I briefly considered using sex to bring him down once I realized he was attracted to me. But never seriously. That’s not how I play. I’m doing this right now because I just can’t fucking resist him. And yeah, maybe that’s playing with fire. But right now, all I want is to get burned. Consumed. Scorched by the flames he’s igniting in my body.

Wes flashes a devilish smile and pushes his fingers into me. I gasp. He slides one finger in and out of my pussy. Before long, he adds another finger. I moan softly while he finger fucks me. Wes looks up at me, his eyes impossibly green before he dips his head and closes his mouth around my clit.

He’s still pumping his fingers in and out of me, and his tongue finds my clit. He flicks his tongue over me, and I gasp, writhing on the couch, balanced between his hand and his mouth. He pumps his fingers faster and sucks my clit into his mouth. I whimper. My hands are in his hair, and I move my hips while he works me over.

I can feel an orgasm building. Waves of shivers wash over my body, and my core clenches. The orgasm suddenly rocks through me, and I arch my back on the couch, my body tightens, and I pull Wes’s face into my pussy, moving my hips, riding his face as the orgasm takes hold of me.

When it slowly releases, I collapse back and breathe hard.

I swallow and look at Wes. His fingers are still inside me, moving in and out slowly. His eyes are on me, and he’s grinning, wicked satisfaction all over his face.

“You’re fucking hot when you do that,” he says. Right now, he’s someone other than the boss that I work for, the man that handled the interviews. In the office, he’s always calm and collected, he does what is right and proper. Now that the door is shut and it’s just the two of us doing things that are borderline sex – no, fucking – the real man beneath his façade shines through.

And I want that man to take me. Even though I know I shouldn’t. That it’s a dangerous game I’m playing. I don’t care.

Wes holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up and against him, planting a kiss on my lips. His tongue slips into my mouth. He takes a few steps to the side and moves me with him, almost like we’re dancing.

The kiss doesn’t last very long. He spins me around, and I’m facing the side of the couch, the armrest in front of me. Wes bends me over, one hand on my hip and one on my back to assume a position where my ass is on display for him. It’s like he was reading my mind. I love how he’s so controlling, taking me and doing as he pleases.

I swallow and breathe hard through my mouth. I shiver with anticipation. He’s going to take me. Hard. I know it. And there’s nothing I want more.

His hands are on my ass, squeezing the cheeks, pulling them apart slightly. His fingers plunge into my pussy again, and I’m hot and wet and ready for him.

A moment later, he replaces his fingers with his cock and slams into me with one deep, hard thrust.

I gasp. He’s big – bigger than I thought he would be considering he was in my mouth – and my body yields and stretches to accommodate him.

He moves slowly into me, and I’m tight around him, my walls gripping his cock and pulling him deeper into me.

When he’s buried as deep inside me as he can be, he pauses, and the office is filled with our labored breathing for a moment. I brace myself with my hands on the armrest.

Wes pulls out of me almost all the way – just the tip is still inside me – when he slams into me. This time, there’s nothing gentle about it. He fucks me hard, hammering into me and pulling out again. I cry out before I catch myself. I must keep quiet. I don’t want the office to know that I’m letting Wes fuck me on his couch.

I don’t have a lot of time to think about how loud I’m being. He keeps slamming into me, jerking my body forward with every thrust. My breasts are still hanging out of my shirt, and I feel dirty. I love it. All my previous escapades with men have been careful, gentle, by-the-book. It’s not the case, now. This is hard and dirty, the stuff of fantasy. I barely know Wes more than the fact he’s the CEO here.

His hands are on my hips, fingers digging into my skin. He holds me in position and pounds into me. I’m starting to edge toward losing control again. I close my eyes and get lost in the sensation, get lost in the feel of his cock pounding into me, my body rocking back and forth, breasts spilling out of my shirt.

I’m fucking my boss in his office. Or rather, he’s fucking me.

The orgasm building creeps ever closer, but then he pulls out of me. I whimper for a different reason. After being so full, I’m suddenly empty.

Wes walks around the couch again. His cock is hard and slick with our sex, bobbing a little as he walks. He sits down where he was for his blowjob. He looks at me, his eyes on my exposed breasts, first, before they slowly trail up to my face.

“Get on,” he orders. “I want you to ride me.”

I straighten up. My skirt is around my waist like a belt, and I’m so wet I can feel it when I walk toward Wes. He’s made me a dripping, horny mess. And I’m reveling in it, every command driving me wilder.

I climb onto his lap. My legs are on either side of his, and I hover over his cock. I kiss him before I reach down with my hand and position him so that I can slide onto him.

When I lower myself onto him, he groans, his face orgasmic for a moment. He closes his eyes. I sit down on him, moving a little to position him comfortably inside me. When he opens his eyes again, they’re dilated and focused on my breasts that spill out of my shirt.

I start moving on top of him, bucking my hips, riding him. His cock slides in and out of me, and the friction is fantastic. He’s huge, and he hits me in all the right spots. Wes has his hands on my hips, guiding my movements. I ride faster and faster. I close my eyes, tip my head back and slide up and down his cock. I’m breathing hard. The sex is so fucking good, and the secrecy of it, how naughty it is, adds to the thrill. I’ve never fucked anyone in an office, and certainly never my boss.

An orgasm starts building slowly, the muscles clenching at my core. I gasp and moan, trying to keep it down. I don’t want everyone to know what we’re doing, but it’s hard to keep quiet when the sex is this good.

“Shh, baby,” Wes says in a low voice. He touches my throat with his fingertips, palming my neck and squeezing lightly. I gasp, shocked by how much I love the eroticism of his hand on my throat. It feels dangerous. His touch is electric. But at the same time, somehow, despite everything I know about this man, I know he won’t hurt me.

I moan, rocking my hips back and forth. Moans continue to slip out – I’m failing to swallow them – but my gasps are breathy, and I hope they’re not too loud.

“They’re going to hear us, Kylie,” Wes says. He’s not calling me a pet name but using my real name. I swallow and try to keep it down. When I can’t seem to manage, Wes lifts his hand to my mouth. He doesn’t cover my mouth in a way that seems forceful or rude. Instead, he pushes a finger between my lips.

I suck on his finger, and it’s hot as hell. I work my hips around his cock, and I suck his finger the way I sucked his cock. With my mouth occupied, I don’t have a chance to make a lot of noise, and it works to keep my moans muffled. I lean forward a little, changing the angle of my hips as I ride him, and it pushes my clit right up against his pubic bone.

It’s a little rough when I ride him, rubbing up against him like this, but the friction against my clit is just what I need. The orgasm I’d been working on suddenly shifts into a new gear. I’m getting lost in the sensation, the heat that pulses through my body. It’s like Wes ignited a spark with the first orgasm and now I’m coaxing that spark until it’s a flame. Heat spreads slowly through my body, growing inside me. I’m aware of my legs rubbing against the couch, Wes’s pants beneath my ass that aren’t as comfortable as I would like, and my blouse that restricts my breasts.

Again, just as I think about it, Wes removes his finger from my mouth and reaches for my breasts. He cups them in both his hands for a moment before he reaches for the buttons below and undoes them one by one. When my blouse hangs open, my breasts are still pushed up by my bra.

“It clasps at the front,” I say in a breathy voice.

Wes frowns at me.

“The bra. The clasp isn’t at the back.”

I like wearing bras that clasp at the front. It’s comfortable to put on and take off, and it’s entertaining to watch men fumble, confused when they can’t find it at the back. But I’m not going to wait until we’re alone to watch Wes fumble.

But I should have known a man like Wes doesn’t fumble. With a quick flick, Wes has my bra open, my breasts hanging free. He cups them again and kneads them for a short while before he lets them go and admires them.

With my rocking back and forth, my full breasts swing and jiggle, and I know that men love it. Wes stares at them. His hands slide up and down my thighs.

I focus on my orgasm again. It’s building, growing larger and larger like I’m a cup, filling with hot water, and soon I’m going to spill over.

The orgasm builds to an insanely intense peak before suddenly washing over me. I squeeze my eyes shut and cry out, hoping it’s not too loud, and lean forward. I’m not making sounds anymore. For a moment, I stop breathing altogether. My muscles contract, my body curls around Wes’s and I press my face against his shoulder, to hell with makeup. To hell with everything apparently. Against my better judgment, I just fucked my boss. The CEO of the company I’m here to take down. Yet I can’t bring myself to regret it. In fact, all I want is to go again.

When the orgasm fades, I can breathe again, and I’m gasping for air. My muscles clench around Wes’s cock, still pulsing. I realize he’s breathing hard, too.

I lift myself up and look at him.

He puts his hand behind my neck and pulls me forward for another kiss.

Wes

God, it’s hot when she comes. The first time was great, with her clit in my mouth and my fingers inside of her pussy so that I could feel how she contracts around me. This time, my cock is inside of her when she comes, and it’s fucking spectacular. She clamps down around my cock, and I can feel everything, the way she contracts and relaxes, the way shudders ripple through her body.

When she buries her face against my shoulder, her body still tight around me, against me, I hold onto her. She’s so much smaller than she looks when she moves around – her personality is bigger than she is.

Finally, after the orgasm fades, she lifts her head from my shoulder and looks at me. Her eyes are a little glazed over. When she blinks, it’s a slow blink like she’s still coming back from wherever her orgasm took her.

I pull her toward me and kiss her. The kiss is soft and wet, my tongue sliding between her lips, and she responds with lazy circles of her own tongue around mine.

When I let her go, she sighs. I grab her tits and massage them, kneading them, squeezing them. She’s a little bigger than what fits in my hands comfortably, and it’s perfect – I prefer more than I can handle. Her nipples are hard against my palms. I roll them between my thumbs and forefingers, tug at them. She gasps, her lips parted, her eyes still on mine.

I still can’t tell what she’s thinking. If this is part of her plan, or if she just wants me this fucking bad. And I don’t care. I just want to keep fucking this woman and forget everything else. At least momentarily.

I shift to the side so I can lie down. She’s still on top of me and moves with me. There isn’t a lot of space between me and the back of the couch, but she makes it work. I’m about to ask her if she’s comfortable when she moves her hips again. She clenches her walls, and I shiver. I know women do exercises for this kind of thing, but when I feel it, I shiver. Every time.

She pauses and pulls my tie off before she starts unbuttoning my shirt. Until now, I’ve been fully dressed aside from my cock coming out of my pants like a zenith of lust. When my shirt is unbuttoned, she pushes the material out of the way. She puts her hands on my chest curls her fingers into my chest hair and leans forward to kiss me.

Kylie starts riding me again. She moves in long, slow strokes, sliding herself up my cock until I almost slip out before she slides down again. The sex is intense, but it’s not going to push me over the edge. Part of me is happy she’s drawing it out. Part of me is wildly frustrated.

She keeps up her slow movement her hips rolling over mine. I can feel her ass cheeks on my upper thighs, her pussy squeezing down on me. She looks me in the eye, and it’s very intimate. Eye contact is always intimate during sex.

I look into her eyes and notice that they’re not just brown. Flecks of gold are scattered through the liquid brown of her irises, and her eyes are mesmerizing.

Maybe it’s because she’s on top of me, taking control, that I’m so intoxicated, but I get lost in the feel of her. Her hair hangs over her shoulders, brushing against my bare chest. She doesn’t flick it out of the way, move it to the side. It’s like silk on my chest, soft and gentle and erotic.

I should be concerned. This is exactly why I needed to wait it out, not fuck her yet. I need the upper hand. If I let her get to me, she’ll win before I even know what happened. But my head’s so clouded with needy lust that I just push the thoughts aside and grab her hips, shoving myself hard up into her.

I start moving my hips, helping her as I increase the pace. I turn my hips in circles, gyrating, moving my cock around inside of her. She gasps, her eyes surprised. I touch every inch of her when I do this, stroking different spots, and I pay attention to her breathing, her eyes. I watch her for reaction, to see when I’m hitting the right spots.

It doesn’t take me long to find her G-spot. She’s expressive, and that always helps. There’s nothing as bad as a woman who won’t show you if she’s enjoying herself or not.

I don’t have to wonder about Kylie. I can see every moment of our sex what she’s feeling and how much she likes it.

Now, I’m stroking her G-spot. She’s stopped moving her body so much, and I’m a back in control now. Just the way I like it. I want her to orgasm because of my cock and nothing else. I want her to surrender to me completely.

Her face changes. I can see she’s getting close again, and I know from what women have told me that it feels different when it’s their G-spot I’m working on. Hitting that thin line between pleasure and pain, but in the very best way. Well, I wouldn’t know. All I know is that it’s the sexiest shit on earth when a woman comes because I’m using my cock right.

Kylie closes her eyes and drops her head. Her hair fans over my chest, and I feel her breathing against my abs. She gasps, her breathing shallow and irregular and I take it as a good sign. I move faster and faster but only as much as I can without breaking the motion. I want her to come again.

“Come for me, baby,” I say, and I don’t know if it’s good timing or if my words push her over the edge, but suddenly she comes undone above me. Her body contracts, and I feel the orgasm rip through her almost as much as if I’m the one having it. I concentrate on keeping my own control. It’s getting harder and harder, but I’m not done. She collapses on top of me, and I let her fall apart, relishing in the idea I did this to her.

She takes a moment to recover. She pushes herself up on my chest and looks at me through hooded eyes. God, this O face is my favorite.

I help her off me and move to my office chair. This is a fantasy I’ve had for a long time. The chair is expensive, one of those that has more than enough room for the two of us if we’re clever about it. When I sit down, she gets the idea and climbs onto my lap again. I want her to keep riding me. I want to see her tits swinging back and forth when she rides me. I want her to come yet again before I finish, too.

When I lean back, she shifts with me and starts rocking back and forth. The office chair can lean back a bit, and with our combined weight, it does. She rolls her hips and slides up and down my cock again. She’s so tight now, after her orgasm, and so fucking wet. Her pussy squeezes me with every stroke, and it takes everything I have not to lose it inside of her right now.

She leans into me and lifts her hips so that she slips off me almost all the way before sitting down again. Her tits are almost in my face. I raise my head and take a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, then bite down. She whimpers but the sound she makes is not from pain, but pleasure.

I reach between us and push my fingers into her pussy. Her movement on top of me rubs her clit up against my fingers, and I don’t have to do much. I keep my hand there, pinched between our bodies, and I see her face flood with an echo of what I saw when she was ready to explode.

“Wait, angel,” I say, and she stops moving. There are questions in her eyes. I pat her hip, and she lifts herself off me and clambers off the chair. I lead her to my desk and push the contents of it to the floor. It’s not a lot – a file or two and a pen holder – and lift her up so that she’s sitting on the desk. I kiss her again, tugging at her nipple before I nudge her back so that she lies down.

I want to taste her. I want to taste us.

When I dip my head between her legs, her thighs fall open for me. I push my tongue into her pussy and drag it over her clit, lapping at her sex, tasting what we taste like mixed together. She moans and squirms. I press one hand on her lower abdomen, hold her thigh with the other and try to keep her still. She gasps. I want her to come again. I want her cum in my mouth again.

I would carry on with it, too, but I don’t have the patience. My cock is throbbing, and I can’t hold it anymore. I want to come inside of her. I want, no need , my release.

I get onto the desk with her, my knees on the edge between her legs before I manage to shift and lay down almost on top of her. For the first time, I’m grateful for the big executive desk with so much space I’ve never been able to use all of it before.

I slam into her, and she cries out but catches herself before it makes too much noise.

When I pull out, it’s all the time I have to go slowly. I start hammering into her, fucking her hard. She gasps and whimpers and does it all quietly enough that I don’t have to worry. I pound into her, my cock slamming home and with every stroke, I can feel my own orgasm building, and her face becomes more intense.

It doesn’t take very long. I have been working on this for a while, now. I bury myself inside of her as far as I can and release my load. I empty myself inside her hot, wet pussy, and my spasming and jerking pushes her over the edge yet again. She comes, too, her body clenching around me, working at the same rhythm, milking me.

When the orgasm is done I collapse on top of her, and we lie on the desk in a tangle of limbs, breathing hard. Her heart hammers against my chest, and our skin is slick where we’re touching.

Finally, I push up and pull out of her, climbing off the desk. I stand in front of her, looking down at what I’ve done. Her pussy is swollen and glistening with our sex. Her body is exposed, her tits large and beautiful on her chest, and her black skirt cuts the long, milky line of her body.

She sits up. I tuck my cock back into my pants, satisfied now, and zip myself up. I offer her a box of tissues to clean up and turn to the window to allow her some privacy. It’s one thing to see a woman so exposed, it’s another to witness her taking care of herself after the fact. Some things deserve to stay private.

I hear rustling, and when she finally clears her throat, I turn around to face her. She’s tugged her skirt back down and buttoned up her blouse. Her hair is a little tousled, her cheeks are flushed, and the shirt is a little wrinkled on the sides but other than that it’s impossible to tell we did anything other than discuss business together. I walk to her and cup her cheeks, gripping her jaw, my face inches away. But I don’t kiss her. Even though I’m shocked to find that I want to.

Normally after sex, that’s it. No kissing. No intimacy. Nothing. And with Kylie, it’s even more important for that to be the case. Which is why it takes me a minute to gather my thoughts as I stare down at her.

“We’ll have to reschedule to talk about your business plans,” I say.

She nods, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. She looks tired, but her eyes are bright.

“We’ll do that.”

She collects her bag, packing her file and leaves my office without looking back. I like that in a woman. Neediness is so unattractive after you’ve done the dirty.

I turn and sigh, sliding my hand over my crotch.

God, what a good fuck. I shouldn’t have done it. But I know I’d do it all over again given the chance. And I intend to make sure there are plenty more chances.

Kylie

The rest of the week is a huge anticlimax after spending Wednesday afternoon in Wes’s office. I know we shouldn’t have had sex. My job is important to me, and he’s my boss. Making sure I do what I came to RidgeCo for in the first place is even more important. But I couldn’t resist him. When I think back to it, my body remembers the feel of him buried deep inside of me and my muscles clench.

I can’t think about him all the time, or I’ll work myself up into a state I can’t handle at work. It’s gotten me into too much trouble already. It was that good. Which is very bad.

At least Wes isn’t around all the time. A part of me is relieved about that. He often leaves for client meetings, and I don’t see him as often as I thought I would. It’s a good idea that there is a little distance between us while I wrap my mind around what happened. I need time to work through it. I need time while the sensations that still hover over my body like ghosts fade a little. His body inside mine and the multiple orgasms are so fresh in my memory.

Of course, it will take something just short of amnesia to forget how good Wes was, but two days is enough for me to at least clear my head a little. I never expected to react this way to him.

In the meantime, I’m getting used to my new position and the people that work with me. I have a team that I’m in charge of as project manager, and they’ve all been very kind to me, helping me get used to it all. Everyone is positive except Leon, a senior manager that I bumped heads with from day one.

After one week working with him, I know that it doesn’t matter what I do, I’m not going to be able to like him any more than he allows.

Which is not at all. He’s a sour son of a bitch with an old school way of thinking and no room for change. He doesn’t like me – like at all, and I’m not sure why – and he’s not scared to make it clear.

But what is a job without difficulties? I’m just glad about the position, the fact that I’ve been promoted after working as a mere receptionist for so long. My luck has changed, and I’m willing to take someone like Leon in stride if that’s how it has to be. If my luck holds out, I’ll be able to continue toward my goal with very few hiccups.

When I walk into the meeting room for a team meeting, they’re all smiling at me. It’s my first meeting, and I don’t know what to expect.

“Alright, what do we have?” I ask.

Some of the team members show me what they’ve come up with. I like how on board they all are. There are one or two questions, and I am about to wrap it up when Leon walks in like he’s on the warpath.

“Hello, Leon,” I say politely. “We were just about finished.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” Leon says. “Let’s run through it all again. I want to see what you’ve done this week. I doubt you’ve covered it all.”

I sigh and glance at Tanya, one of the team members sitting closest to me. She rolls her eyes, and I feel like she’s my ally right away.

Patiently, I go through everything again, answering Leon’s questions when he asks them. When I’ve gone through it all, he scowls at me.

“Fine, you’ve managed not to mess up. Your luck might run out.”

His words are eerily similar to my earlier thoughts. What’s with this guy? It’s like he has it out for me. I want to say something, but I swallow my words. He’s my superior, I’m new, and he doesn’t need more ammo against me. Getting fired would ruin everything when I’m getting so close. So I plaster on a huge smile.

“I know where to go when I get stuck,” I say in a saccharine voice. Leon glares at me before he storms out of the meeting room again, and only then do I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Don’t you mind him,” Tanya says to me. She’s in her mid-forties, with auburn hair and freckles. She still uses Scrunchies, and she has a fringe. “He’s going through a difficult time, and he wasn’t a ray of sunshine to start off with.”

I nod, relieved that my team seems to be on my side. Maybe Tanya’s right—he’s got other things going on and he doesn’t actually have it out for me.

“Thank you for your time,” I say to the team, and the meeting is adjourned. They all get up and leave the meeting room in twos and threes until it’s just Tanya and me.

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight? We’re going to Alchemist. We go out as a team once a month.”

In all the time I’ve worked at RidgeCo, I’ve never been invited out with anyone.

“I’d love that,” I say. I feel like I’m suddenly a part of everything. Things are going my way.

“Great, we’re meeting at seven.”

“Why haven’t I been invited before?” I ask.

Tanya laughs, and it’s one of those laughs that are contagious, so I laugh, too.

“We don’t invite receptionists, but you’re one of us, now.”

She pats me on the shoulder like I’m a child before leaving the meeting room. I watch her walk away. What she said wasn’t all that funny, to be honest. Being shunned because I was a receptionist? It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and reminds me exactly why I have to stay focused. RidgeCo has it coming for many reasons. There should be respect for employees on every level. But I shrug it off because they invited me now and this is just one more in that I need. I’ve only been on the team for a week, and already I feel like every day brings me one step closer to my goal.

On Friday, everyone leaves earlier. I stay a bit longer to be sure everything is taken care of for Monday. Someone clears a throat, and when I look up, Wes walks toward me. My stomach flips when I look at him. His suit, tailor-made like all the others, fits perfectly and he fills it out like a GQ model.

“Working late, tonight?” he asks, his eyes dark and dangerous, reminding me of how he looked at me in his office two days ago.

I nod. “Taking care of a few things before I leave.”

He looks impressed. “It’s the mark of a good project manager. It’s to be commended.”

I smile and glance at the time on my wristwatch.

“Are you needed somewhere?” he asks.

“The team invited me to Alchemist tonight. I think I’ll swing by. They’re going out of their way to make sure I settle in.”

Wes smiles. “They’re a great group of people. You see why it’s so important I got someone worthy of managing them.”

I smell a compliment, and I can’t help blushing. My cheeks flame and I feel like an idiot. He shouldn’t get to me this way. But he does, and I don’t know how to handle it.

Wes chuckles, flipping something around in his hand. It looks like a tiny remote, but before I can get a better look at it, it’s disappeared into his pocket.

“I have a few things to take care of, too,” he says. “I’ll let you go. I’ll see you on Monday, Kylie.”

“It’s the mark of a good CEO,” I say and grin at him. He looks surprised that I’m joking but then his smile widens, and he walks away, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. I’m a bit surprised at myself too, but I feel strangely comfortable with Wes, even though he simultaneously sets my body on edge.

I leave the office and head home, still thinking about him. I have no idea what I’m going to wear tonight.

After a shower, I stand in front of my closet. I want to look nice but not too dressy. I know Alchemist – it’s a cocktail lounge with prices that I can’t usually afford, but my salary has been increased, and I have a feeling I’ll join the team there more often.

In the end, I opt for dark blue skinny jeans, a tuck in white blouse and a beige leather jacket. I pair it with nude heels and gold jewelry. I tie my hair up into a messy bun and reapply my makeup to be a little heavier. When I’m ready to go, I grab my purse to make sure I have everything I need in it. That’s when I notice a small black box with a deep red ribbon tied around it.

What is this? I certainly didn’t see it today when I was at work. Then it hits me.

Wes.

He was smiling like he knew something I didn’t. I grab the box and untie the ribbon, then pause before opening it. Do I really want to know what it is? Maybe I shouldn’t open it. But my curiosity gets the better of me. Like I could really not find out what’s inside.

When I pull the lid from the tiny box, a small gasp escapes my lips. No fucking way. This can’t be from Wes. But when I read the note tucked inside, I recognize his handwriting right away.

Don’t leave home without this.

Holy shit. I pick up the tiny silver bullet. It’s one of those little vibrators. The kind that tucks discreetly away, right inside where no one knows it’s there. Wes gave me a vibrator? My mind flashes back to this evening at the office. The remote in his hand.

Oh my God. That remote controls this vibrator. And he wants me to use it. Tonight. I have no doubt in my mind that he’s going to show up at Alchemist, remote in hand.

I must be out of my mind because the next thing I know, I’m stripping down and placing the vibrator inside my suddenly drenched pussy. What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be doing this. I know that. But I can’t seem to stop myself.

Next thing I know, I’m dressed again and out of my apartment and on the street, my pussy gripping the bullet that’s my little secret. I get a cab to pick me up and make my way to the other side of the financial district from where the office is.

Alchemist Bar and Lounge is a classy place with an upbeat vibe. The décor is a little Steampunk for my taste, but it has a nice atmosphere when I step through the door. Rich wooden floors compliment bronze pipes and raw brick walls.

I spot our team around a coffee table, settled into leather couches, and they already have drinks in their hands or on the table in front of them. Tanya spots me and waves me over. Her hair is loose, and she’s wearing a blouse that’s a lot flashier than anything she wears in the office.

“You look stunning, doll,” she says and drags me to the team. They’re all happy to see me and Clive, one of the men on the team, buys me a strawberry daiquiri without me asking for it. I accept it graciously and sit down next to Tanya on the far end of the couch, against the leather armrest. I feel like they all must know my secret, but that’s ridiculous. How could they? But the anticipation keeps building. When will Wes show up? Will Wes show up. My pussy aches and throbs with need, and I can barely focus on the conversation around me because of it.

My first cocktail is about halfway gone, and I’ve started warming up to spending time with the team outside the office when Wes walks up to us. He’s wearing expensive jeans, faded in all the right places, his dark hair is stylishly messy, and he wears a cream collared shirt that’s unbuttoned low enough for the top bit of his dark chest hair to show.

The whole team cheers.

“Oh, God,” Tanya says cheerfully. “Wes never comes to these things.”

I must look as nervous as I feel because Tanya laughs. “We always thought he was too good for us or something. Looks like we’re wrong. Don’t worry. He’s great once you get to know him.”

“Absolutely,” I say because I can’t tell her what I’m really feeling. Horny as fuck. And yeah, I know exactly how great he is. I’m intimately acquainted.

Someone opens a seat for Wes, and I watch him. He’s comfortable around the team, falling into the conversation as if he does this every day. I can see why they all love him so much despite how often he’s away for meetings.

I’m a nervous mess. Does he have the remote with him? What if he turns it on? Oh my God, what if he tries to make me come right here in front of all our colleagues?

When my drink is finished, I stand.

“I’m going to get another drink,” I say.

“Let me escort you,” Wes says, and he stands up. I glance at the others. They don’t seem to think it’s strange that Wes is volunteering to walk me to the bar. I nod, and he smiles at me, his eyes holding something more than just a smile.

He walks with me to the bar. It’s a polished wooden corner bar with round bar stools on both sides. I make my way to an open spot and Wes joins me.

I order a margarita. When the bartender sets it down in front of me, Wes pulls money from his wallet and pays.

“You didn’t have to buy that for me,” I say.

“What? The drink or the vibrator?” he answers, and there’s nothing I can say to that. In fact, I just gape at him.

His green eyes are striking and this close I can smell his cologne. He’s even more intoxicating than before. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol speaking. And the fact we slept together.

“Let’s sit down over here,” Wes says, and he points to a small table with two armchairs close together. It’s away from the team.

“Shouldn’t we get back?” I ask.

Wes shrugs. “I’m not going to stay long. I want to spend a little time with you, then you can go back to them.”

He looks at me, and his eyes are impossibly green, twinkling with mischief as he pulls the remote from his pocket and twirls it in his fingers. I can’t resist him, and I nod. He can ask me almost anything right now and I will strongly consider saying yes. Even letting him give me an orgasm right here in public. I don’t like that I’m tripping over my feet for him – I prefer being independent – but it is what it is. I have no control over my body when it comes to him.

We sit down together.

“You’re doing well at work,” he says. “I’m getting good feedback.”

I wonder how he’s able to act so cool. Just as I start to lift my drink to my lips, I feel it. He’s turned the vibrator on. I nearly jump out of my seat from the shock of it, even though I’ve been anticipating this moment all night. Somehow, I manage to say, “What kind of feedback?”

Wes angles his head toward me. “That you’re always on top of things. That you know what you’re doing. That you have it all under control. But Kylie…”

The way he says my name, combined with the vibrator now buzzing deep inside my pulsing pussy, nearly sends me over the edge. I gasp.

“You don’t always have to be in control. I can take care of you.”

He says it to me in a way that makes me think he might not just be talking about work. Maybe not even just about this craziness happening between us in a very public place. But when he turns the vibrator up a notch, I stop thinking altogether.

A small moan escapes my mouth, and I try to muffle it by taking a sip of my drink. Wes watches me closely, and I fight to keep my eyes open. But it feels so, so good, and I just want to close my eyes and melt back into the seat and let him take care of me all he wants.

“Tell me about yourself,” Wes says with a naughty grin. “What do you do for fun?”

How does he expect me to talk right now? I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a low, needy moan. I look around anxiously, but no one seems to have noticed. Everyone at the other table is wrapped up in conversation.

Fuck it. I give in to what I really want. “Just shut up and make me come,” I manage to say.

Tilting my head back, I do let my eyes fall shut. Wes cranks up the vibrator even more, and the next thing I know, I’m biting my lip and gripping my thighs as I come so hard I don’t know how everyone in the restaurant isn’t taking notice.

When the waves of pleasure finally subside, I open my eyes and gape at Wes.

He simply smiles and tosses back his drink. I can’t believe we just did that.

I take another sip of my drink. I need more alcohol in my system.

After a minute, he says, “Seriously, Kylie. Tell me about yourself.”

I stare at him for a minute. We’re not going to talk about what just happened? I don’t even know what to think, so I do the only thing I can. I answer him. “Well, there’s not much to tell. Up until now I’ve basically been spending all my time working as hard as I can to make ends meet.”

I can tell by Wes’s face that he doesn’t expect that answer, that he has questions he wants to ask, but he doesn’t know if it will be rude. At least, I like to tell myself that he’s as gentlemanly as that. Maybe he’s just confused, and that’s the end of it. It was pretty random.

“My dad left us when I was in high school. It was…complicated. My mom and I moved back in with my gran because my mom didn’t earn enough to support us. I send her whatever I can spare to make it easier. My gran is retired, and my mom will have to retire soon, too.”

Wes nods slowly, his face an unreadable mask. “You’re very selfless,” he says.

I shake my head. “It’s not selfless. I owe my mom. She fought through it all when she could have just given up. She deserves me to do the same.”

He looks like he’s thinking about something, looking at the table intently.

“What about you?” I ask, trying to move the conversation away from whatever makes him look so troubled.

He looks up at me and smiles. “My dad is a bit of a hard-ass,” he says. “My parents are still together, but he’s not home often and when he is I have a lot to live up. Mostly, it’s my mom and me, and we’re close.”

I nod. It’s interesting to see another side of Wes, to see the human behind his serious business mask. I’m not sure what to make of it. I don’t want to think about it too hard because I can’t let it complicate things.

“And girlfriends?” I ask.

Wes looks at me with laughing eyes. “Are you asking if I’m single?”

I shrug. “I guess so.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “I’m single. So, the other day in my office wasn’t wrong.”

He looks at me, and his green eyes are bright and intense. “I loved it,” he says. “I love what we just did, too.”

I blush. My cheeks and my ears are red-hot. He chuckles, and I know he can see it even in the dim lighting in the bar. I look down at my drink, feeling silly.

“I loved it, too,” I say. I look up at him. “But it was a mistake.”

Wes frowns, the intensity in his eyes sliding away.

“Wasn’t it?” I ask. “I mean, we can get in trouble. I know what the rules are.” Plus I can’t afford to let him distract me like this.

Wes looks around, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking now. His face is carefully blank.

“I’m CEO of the company,” he says.

I nod. “I know. But even you’re not untouchable. There are rules and if we caught I lose my job.”

I stop talking because I can’t tell if he’s getting upset or not. He’s so empty and distant now, it’s the exact opposite of what he was when he walked in. Something’s changed, but I can’t figure out what.

“Well, I didn’t think I was going to see you here,” someone says behind me. When I turn and look up, Leon is standing there with his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look much different than he does when he’s at the office. He might have gotten rid of his blazer and tie, but that’s it.

“Leon,” Wes says. His voice is hard.

“And you,” Leon says, turning to me. “I didn’t think you would be invited out with the team.”

“She’s part of the team,” Wes says.

“Barely. But alright, let’s get technical.” He’s being sarcastic. I don’t know why he’s here, but I know that I don’t want to be his target all night.

“I think I better go,” Wes says, reading my mind.

I nod. I was thinking the same thing, but I spot the team in the corner, laughing and talking, and I decide I won’t ditch them. Wes and I get up and join them. I sit down next to Tanya.

“I’m off, ladies and gentlemen,” Wes says. They protest, but he graciously shrugs it off and leaves. He gives me one last intense glance, then turns to leave. I watch him walk away. His ass is perfect underneath those jeans, and his shirt is tight in all the right places.

God, I want him.

“What was that all about?” Tanya asks me when Wes is gone.

I shrug. “He paid for my drink, a welcome drink, he called it.”

Tanya nods. “He’s a great boss,” she says and lets it go to my relief.

“And Leon is here,” I say.

Tanya rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, we won’t let him get us down.”

I smile, and we both turn our attention to the conversation. I join in because these people are my colleagues and they’re nice. For the first time since high school, I feel like I fit in.

Wes

On Monday morning, I’m back in the office, and I couldn’t be happier. I spent the whole weekend golfing with clients and shareholders. It’s part of my job as the CEO, and it’s boring as fuck. I’m glad to be back in the office where I’m at home, and I’m king of my castle.

I can’t get Kylie out of my mind, either. When I was on the golf course, I had some time to think, and I’m not quite sure where we stand. When she came to my office she was more than down to fuck – the mood had been perfect, and she was just as caught up in it as I was.

But when I saw her at Alchemist, she was different. I wouldn’t say standoffish as much as careful, but it wasn’t what it had been in the office. Even with the vibrator incident, which was hot as fuck, something was different. When she started talking about her mom… Well, things shifted. I’m not even sure what I think or where I stand now. I know what she’s up to—at least I think I do—but my motivation to get her out before she does any real damage is coming into question. She’s not at all like I thought she’d be. What if I have this whole thing wrong?

I keep going back to how things were different at Alchemist. I mean, I guess that’s to be expected. Everyone from the office – including Leon – was there, and I know she’s nervous about losing her job over this, even though more is at stake for her than just her job.

She has a point – it’s not a good idea for either of us. But I can’t stay away from her. I want to do it again.

Before lunchtime, I find myself on the third floor, headed toward her desk. There she is staring at her laptop screen, and I watch her from a distance for a short while. As much as I don’t want to admit it, she’s getting to me. Getting under my skin, invading my thoughts. Consuming them, really.

She’s wearing green – a spring green – and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s wearing computer glasses, and the whole look gives off a sexy-librarian feel. Her top isn’t so low that it would be a problem in the workplace but I know what she looks like without a shirt. I can just picture her tits through her top.

When she looks up at me, I walk closer, as if I’ve been doing that all along.

“How are you doing?” I ask her, walking around her desk to look at her laptop screen. She’s not even on a social network or anything – so many employees are. She’s going through the suggested specs list that we got from the designers.

“Well, thank you,” she says.

“You can tell me if you need anything,” I say.

She nods. “I know. So far I’m alright.”

I nod, too. I want her to come to me, to lean on me, to ask me for advice and help. I want to spend more time with her alone. I don’t want to discuss work with her, I want to get her alone and get her naked, but I mean it when I tell her she can turn to me if she needs something.

“You haven’t had a look at my ideas for the project, yet,” she says.

I nod. “You’re right. I got a little distracted.”

She blushes.

“How about you give them to me, and I’ll go over them? Then we can talk about what you have.”

She thinks about it for a moment.

“Alright,” she says and reaches into her bag. She produces the file she had in my office last week, and I take it from her.

“I’ll let you know,” I say with a smile. Kylie nods, smiling, too.

I can’t figure out if she still wants me. I know that she liked the other day. Does she want to do it again? I hope she does – God knows I want to do it again. I want to fuck her brains out. But I’m not going to push for something she doesn’t want, and I don’t know where she stands after she told me on Friday that it was a mistake. Although, she didn’t say she didn’t want to do it again.

Women are complicated. They don’t say things straight up, and then men get blamed for misunderstanding. And things are even more complicated in this situation because there’s more at play here than just our obvious attraction. She has an end game. So do I. But mine is changing. I’m not sure I really want to fuck her over like I did before. I want to find out more. Get in her head and understand why she’s really out to get RidgeCo.

But even more than I want to get in her head, I want to get in her panties.

I can’t very well ask her if she’s willing to do it again out here in the open, where everyone else can hear us. The only way to find out is to get her alone, again. Soon.

I look down at the file again, thinking.

“You know what?” I say. “Let me go over this now. Can you free up some time to see me in my office, later this afternoon? Let’s say, three?”

Kylie swallows. She hesitates before she nods. I can’t tell what she’s thinking; I don’t know her well enough. I can decipher her O face, her eyes when there’s lust in them, but I don’t know Kylie as a person. And I’m surprised by how much I want to. She’s supposed to be the enemy, but I’m finding out quickly it’s not that simple.

“Three it is, then.”

As soon as I get her alone, I want to talk to her. I want to ask her how she feels. I want to know what she thinks of us doing it before, of us doing it again.

“You don’t have to go over it all today,” she says. “We can discuss it another time.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have client meetings, for a change. Focusing on the project will be nice. I get so little time to do it.”

She nods. “Okay, I guess that’s alright, then.”

Tanya walks to Kylie’s desk and gives her a stack of papers.

“This is the report you asked for,” she says. She glances at me and smiles. Kylie takes the papers from Tanya, and I watch them interact. Kylie is respectful and helpful, but she doesn’t grovel or make it look like Tanya is in charge. She knows what she’s doing, and her grasp of authority is attractive.

Whenever I see her, I’m reminded of how good she can be at what she does. She has so much potential; she can go far in this company. I don’t know why she was a receptionist for so long – she told me a bit about her struggles – and I’m glad I’ve pushed her into a position where she can earn more and get noticed. The money would be well-deserved, I think. If she didn’t have ulterior motives. I wonder for the millionth time why she’s really out to get the company because I think she could really be great here.

“Do you have the printout I asked you for?” Leon asks Kylie, walking to her desk. He glances at me but ignores me, otherwise.

Kylie nods, not responding to his brash approach. She hands him a piece of paper. Leon looks at it with a frown.

“Is this all of it?” he asks.

“It’s everything I could find on it,” she says. “Will you let me know if there’s anything else you need?”

Leon grunts. “You know I will.”

He sounds grumpy. I’m getting irritated with the way he’s talking to her, and I’m not even involved in the discussion. If it gets to her, she’s not showing it. She respects Leon as her superior, and she treats him with a respect I don’t even think he deserves. Maybe it’s because she’s still new, and she doesn’t have the liberty to be sarcastic or have an attitude toward Leon. I hope that will change because he can’t keep being such a dick about everything.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, Leon?” I ask.

He nods, and I step to the side, so we’re out of earshot from the others. Leon follows me. He folds his arms over his chest and places his feet wide apart. The stance is both defensive and arrogant.

“Why don’t you lay off Kylie, Leon?” I ask. “She’s working hard.”

Leon raises his eyebrows. “I’m doing my job. Are you suggesting I don’t?”

I shake my head. “I think you can be nicer about it.”

Leon smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Like you are.”

He can’t know anything, but my stomach turns, anyway.

“If you mean checking up on her to see if she needs help and mentoring her when she does, then yes, like I am.”

Leon shakes his head. “The two of you are alone an awful lot, don’t you think?”

“Did I mention I’m mentoring her? I remember saying it.”

Leon makes a face at me. I know he’s getting pissed, but so am I.

“I wish I had that much mentoring when I was new here,” Leon says.

I sigh. “That was before my time, Leon. I can’t do anything about what happened here before I was appointed CEO. I know what I can do now, and I’m doing it to the best of my ability. Please, don’t forget that I’m your superior. Your attitude needs revision.”

Leon laughs, and it’s one of those laughs that’s supposed to be a threat.

“I’ll back off from Jordan when I know that she’s capable of doing her job, but I don’t think a receptionist deserves a position as project manager on this, and I’m sticking to it. I believe you hired her because she has a pretty face and a good body.”

I am angry now.

“That’s degrading and insulting in every way,” I say. “I would be very careful about what I say next if I were you.”

My blood boils. I’m more than angry that Leon has reduced Kylie to someone intellectually incapable of doing her job, that he thinks I have it in me to look only at her body.

Leon makes a face at me, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he turns and walks away. But I swear I hear him mumble something under his breath that sounds like, “I know more than you think I do.”

He can’t mean he knows about Kylie. Can he?

When I look at Kylie again, she’s buried in her work. I don’t want to bother her. Especially as irritated as I am now. It’s better for me to retreat to my office and work through it. I need to calm down.

I walk to my office and sit down behind my desk. Leon rubs me up the wrong way, sometimes. I don’t know how to deal with him now – I don’t want to fire the guy with his wife being so sick, but he can’t keep doing this at the office. He undermines my authority, and he pisses me off.

Kylie actually deserves her position more than anyone else in the company, in spite of my inside knowledge about her plans to try to take down the company. Her résumé stood out from all the others long before I was aware of what she was up to.

And yes, I fucked her, and I think she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but I sure as shit didn’t hire her because I thought it would be easier to get into her panties.

Leon is way too upset over Kylie’s promotion. There’s something I can’t put my finger on, Something that’s not quite right.

I’m going to have to do something about him if he doesn’t reign in his bad attitude.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm down. I can’t let Leon work me up like this. I’m his boss, and he shouldn’t piss me off the way he does. I open the file I got from Kylie and start reading through her projections and ideas.

And again, I’m impressed by the way she thinks, by the way she approaches her work. She is technical about it, approaching the business side of it logically, but she has a creative flair that makes her work unique and I like it.

I am engrossed in her work, and as I page through it, my bad mood dissipates. I see a side of her here that I don’t know yet, and I like it.

When I’m done, I’m glad I asked her to come to me so soon. It’s not just because I want to see her as soon as possible, but because I want to talk to her about her work. Maybe, this time, I’ll get around to it.

I lean back in my chair and look around my office. I’ve had her everywhere in here I can except for the floor. I glance at the couch. I can almost still feel her lips around my cock. Just the thought of it makes me want it again. I harden, and I want her. I don’t think I’m ever going to not want her. She’s sexy and beautiful and intelligent. The whole package.

In spite of all the reasons I shouldn’t, I want her. I want her all to myself. In just a short while I’ll find out if she wants me, too.

Kylie

I didn’t go to Wes’s office. In fact, I didn’t even stay at work. I became so nervous about our meeting, about what he might expect from me, I started feeling sick. After lunch, my stomach was a knot of nerves, and I couldn’t concentrate.

Tanya asked me if I was feeling alright because I looked pale. When I told her I felt sick, she suggested I go home.

I didn’t wait for her to tell me twice.

I fear seeing Wes, alone. I don’t know what he wants from me. Okay, that’s a lie. I know what he wants from me. I even know what I want from him. But I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I need to stay far, far away from this guy. He’s bad news. The bad ones are always the most attractive and this one is my absolute weakness.

I’ve always thought I was immune to men. I want to be with someone, sure, but I don’t need to be. And if a man is flirting with me – no matter how charming – if I’ve made up my mind about it, it’s not going to happen.

I used to take pride in being able to walk away.

I realize now I just haven’t met the right kind of guy, yet. Or is that the wrong kind of guy? I don’t know. And not knowing is what makes me unsure about Wes.

He’s not at all how I thought he’d be. I’m starting to second guess everything.

My dad was a cheating son of a bitch. He had an affair when I was in high school, and my mom found out. Not that my mom was blameless. I found out years later that she had an affair first. In fact, she used to work for RidgeCo way back in one of its pre-IPO iterations. She was a receptionist, just like I used to be. Except she worked for the owner of the company. Who also turned out to be a cheating son of a bitch. He seduced my mom. I don’t know all the details, but I do know he was a manipulative womanizer. My mom was one of many. And he has the nerve to institute a no fraternizing policy?

So both my parents cheated, ripping apart our family and leaving my mom and I practically destitute, especially when she was fired from RidgeCo. It’s the main reason I want to make the company pay. Its very owner almost singlehandedly destroyed my family.

So yeah. Obviously, I don’t trust men. They’re all the wrong guy, in my opinion. So, it’s hard for me to decide what Wes is. I can’t seem to stay away from him, which is unusual for me. I’m always able to keep my head in the game. I can’t help but wonder about him, what more there could be if I dared to pursue it.

But I don’t think that’s something I’ll be able to do. I don’t know if he wants anything more than sex. Most women don’t want sex without any strings attached. They want love, commitment, monogamy. I don’t care about those things. At least, I didn’t. Now I’m starting to wonder if I should care about those things.

I doesn’t bother me that I don’t have it, but it bothers me that I don’t care about having it.

Is it Wes that brought on this change? Or my new job that, for the first time ever, will allow me to think about myself because I can take care of my mom and Gran now? Or is it that Wes seems like he’s actually a decent guy and I’m questioning everything I thought I knew and believed?

It’s too much to think about, too many questions, and that’s just another reason why I should stay away from Wes.

Which is why I ran like a coward yesterday, why I didn’t go to that meeting, why I don’t know how I’m going to avoid him for the rest of the week, or the month, or my career.

I get dressed for work. I put on black dress pants and a butter yellow blouse that makes my skin look more like porcelain than it already does. I brush my hair and braid it loosely. When I’m done with my makeup, I head to the office. It only takes twenty minutes to get to the office from my place, and I’m one of the first people there.

I don’t see Wes on my way to my desk, and I’m relieved when I sit down. I can’t stop him from coming to check on me the way he sometimes does, but this is a good start.

When I open my email, I have five new ones. Two of them are spam – where do they get my email address? One is from my mom, one from Tanya and one is from Wes. It’s flagged urgent, and my throat swells shut. My heart beats faster, and I’m scared to open it.

I tell myself not to be a coward and open the damn email.

Miss Jordan,

Please see me in my office first thing tomorrow morning regarding your office hours.

W. Wagner

It’s so damn formal. Miss Jordan. W Wagner. It makes me even more nervous because I can’t avoid him now. I have to see him. I did something wrong, and I must face it. But he’s not even calling me Kylie.

I take a deep breath and blow it out, slowly. I’m not sure what he’s going to say to me, but I did feel sick yesterday. He doesn’t need to know why, but I’m not lying. And Tanya suggested I go home early. She’s not my boss – she doesn’t have the right to tell me it’s okay – but I listened because I needed it. It was what I wanted to hear.

I wish I had handled it differently, now. I should have known. I should have marched up to that office and told him how things are, where we stand. What is it they say about hindsight?

But, of course, I don’t know what I would have said to him. To tell someone else where you stand you need to know where you stand, and that’s something I haven’t figure out, yet. I think that’s why I’m so nervous. I think that’s why I don’t want to see him. I think seeing him today won’t make anything better. I seem to have met my match when it comes down to men that are charming and flirtatious with me, men that want something I’m not willing to offer. In this case, I know I’m willing to offer it, and I’m scared. I think I’m in way over my head.

I touch my hair, straighten my clothes and check my phone before I get up and ride the elevator up one floor to Wes’s office.

When I knock on the door, he calls for me to enter and I take a deep breath before I walk in. He’s sitting behind his desk. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with satin in the weave so it shimmers a little. His shoulders look broader in the dark color. His face is serious when he looks up at me.

I close the door behind me and walk to his desk. I don’t sit down until he tells me I can. He gets up and walks around his desk. He sits on the edge of his desk, his body turned a little away from me, and I can’t help but feel that I’m in the principal’s office for doing something wrong.

“You left early yesterday,” Wes says.

I nod.

“We had a meeting. Did you forget about it?”

I don’t want to lie to him. He’ll know, anyway. I have a feeling he will. So, I shake my head because I knew about the meeting. Until now, I haven’t said anything.

Wes sighs like he’s exasperated.

“Why did you leave, Kylie?” he asks. I don’t know how he means for the question to come across, but it sounds like he’s been wounded, somehow and it makes me feel bad. Something has changed between us.

“I was feeling sick,” I say. I want to add that Tanya is a witness, but I don’t want to sound like I’m defending myself.

Wes looks at me for long enough that I fight the urge to squirm.

“That’s not it, is it?” he asks, and his voice is so soft I can barely hear him. He’s not looking at me. Instead, he looks down at the carpet, and I wonder why he’s so emotionally involved in this. It was just sex, no strings attached, right? I don’t know what to make of how he’s reacting toward me.

I think about what I can say. The truth is usually the best way to go.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” I say.

Wes frowns at me. “What do you mean, you don’t know how to answer that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know how to explain it without making things worse.”

Wes looks at me with a face I can’t read.

“You’re avoiding me, Kylie. I don’t think it can get much worse than that.”

I swallow. Maybe he’s right. I take a deep breath and let it out with a shudder.

“I want to fuck you,” I say.

He can’t hide his surprise. He looks like it’s the last thing he expected to hear.

“I can’t help it,” I carry on without giving him a chance to speak. I focus on his chest, on his tie, until I get everything out. “But I don’t want to get in trouble. If I can’t help myself around you, and I don’t want to lose my job, not seeing you seems like the only way to do it.”

I finally have the courage to look up at his eyes again. They’re a deep green, full of disbelief and something that looks like happiness.

“I have to admit, that’s the last thing I thought I would hear you say,” he says.

“What did you think I was going to say?”

He opens and closes his mouth, sawing his jaw without saying anything. Finally, he pulls up his shoulders. It’s refreshing to see a man who’s always so in control at a loss for words.

Finally, he sighs.

“Of everything I hoped you would say, this is what I wished you would say.”

I blink at him. Of course, that’s what he wants from me. He slides off the edge of his desk and takes my hand, pulling me up to my feet. He steps closer to me, so close a sigh would press us together. I can feel the heat radiate off his skin through his suit, through my clothes. He smells like cologne the way he did at Alchemist, and his eyes are full of promise.

His hand lifts to my cheek, and he strokes my skin with his thumb. His face dips toward mine, and I wait for him to inch closer until our lips touch.

He’s gentle with me, careful not to scare me off. But the moment his lips touch mine electricity jumps between us, and the atmosphere charges with that same tension that I felt the first time I spoke to him, the first time I was alone with him, the first time I fucked him.

I gasp for air between our kisses, and I know that I’m in danger of going down the same road. If nothing stops us now, I’ll end up naked and beneath him on the desk again. Which I want, very badly. I’m already getting wet, just thinking about it and we’ve just kissed.

When I break the kiss, and he opens his eyes, he has the same look on his face he had before. It’s all happening again. I want it, and at the same time, I’m terrified of it. I have so much to lose.

“We can’t do this,” I say.

He frowns. “I thought it’s what you said you wanted?”

I nod. I want him. God, I want him. I change my body language and shake my head, instead.

“This is too dangerous. We can’t do it here. I can’t risk losing my job over this.”

Wes looks at me like he’s trying to get a read on me.

“Will you come to my place, then?” he asks.

What? I blink at him, confused.

“If you won’t do it here, will you come to my place tonight?”

I don’t know what to say. I should say no. Whether we’re doing it in the office or not, he’s still my colleague and doing anything with him that’s not office-friendly is wrong. If we get found out we’re still in trouble. And it’s not going to help me think any clearer about what I should do about going forward with my plans. It’s crazy. He even has me questioning if I should toss them all aside.

“Yes,” I say, and swallow.

He smiles and kisses me again. The kiss is chaste this time.

“I’ll see you later, then.”

He lets me go, and I feel unstable on my legs. I turn and head for the door.

“Kylie,” he calls me back. I turn around and look at him. “You don’t have to avoid me, you know. You can just talk to me.”

I nod. Wes nods. We have an understanding. I’m not sure exactly what it is other than the fact that I’m going to his place tonight, and we’re going to fuck.

Wes

Once upon a time, I lost control of my emotions with a woman. She loved me, and I let myself love her. I loved her so much, that when she left me at the altar, she broke me.

I swore I would never let anyone do that again. I’m not going to let that happen with Kylie. We’re just fuck buddies, and that’s it. Especially since I know she wants to take down my company.

But does she really? I’m having a hard time reconciling the different sides of her. I don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know for certain is that I want her.

She didn’t give me a time, and it’s driving me crazy. I’m usually so put together, so in control, and this woman is making me unravel.

She said she would come, but I don’t know when, and I’m starting to wonder if she’ll skip out on me again. But she won’t. She said she wanted me. I want to fuck you were her exact words. I couldn’t believe it when she said it. There’s something about her that floors me.

That gets to me. Women aren’t ever my undoing. I know what I want, I take what I want, I leave when I want. They can’t keep me there. I don’t go back for more when I’m over it.

But Kylie is different. I want her to want me. And when I think she doesn’t, it makes me feel like I’m losing control.

I don’t like that feeling, usually. But with her, maybe it’s alright

I can’t afford to lose control, though. Not again. With sex, sure, but anything else is a problem.

Kylie is coming tonight, though, and she’s not asking for my heart. She wants my body, and I’m more than willing to give it to her. I want to fuck her. I want her to fuck me. I want to make it a night she’ll never forget. I can keep it all about sex and forget everything else for tonight.

I’m hard in my pants. I’ve been horny as fuck the whole day, my cock throbbing with anticipation, my mind flashing on images of her tits when I’m fucking her on my desk, of her ass when I’m taking her from behind, of her pussy when she spreads her legs for me. She’s imprinted on my mind like nothing I’ve had before, and I want all of that again.

When the doorbell rings I yank the door open. She stands in front of me and her chest rises and falls, breathing hard. Breathing as hard as I am.

I hold out my hand, and she takes it. Neither of us says anything – what is the point of small talk when we know what’s going to happen – as I pull her inside. I kick the door closed and push her up against the wall.

She’s wearing a t-shirt with no bra underneath it. I can feel the swell of her tits pushing through the fabric. I rub and squeeze her them, and her nipples harden beneath my palms. I’m kissing her, hard, my tongue is in her mouth, and she gasps and sighs against my lips. My cock is pressed up against her crotch so she can feel how hard I am for her, how much I want her. She gyrates her hips, grinding herself against me.

We’re not even naked, and she’s driving me crazy.

I reach between her legs. She’s wearing something like yoga pants – thin material that traces her body and either she’s wearing skimpy underwear, or she left that off, too. Her pussy is hot through her pants, her pussy swollen with desire, and she moans when I rub her roughly.

I push my hand underneath her shirt and slide my hand toward her tits, feeling her ribs beneath her skin. Her skin is smooth and warm. Her tits are warm mounds of flesh in my hand, and I squeeze them one at a time. I take one nipple between my thumb and forefinger and roll it, tugging at it, pinching it until she whimpers. I’m not hurting her, not really. Just a little pain to fuel the pleasure.

And it seems to be working. Her kissing becomes even more intense, and she gasps. She pulls me against her so hard it’s like she’s trying to pull me into her through our clothes. I slide one hand into her hair and close my fist, grabbing a handful. I pull my hand back so that her head is tipped up, exposing the line of her neck. I kiss her down her jaw and onto the smooth skin between her collarbone and her ear.

I lick a thin trail of lust from her collarbone to her ear before I kiss my way back down again, using teeth and my lips to nibble and suck on her. She moans, her hips are still grinding against mine, and her chest heaves beneath my hand still on her breast.

My cock is hard, aching to be inside of her, throbbing. My balls are full and heavy, and I am inches away from tearing her clothes off and taking her. But I don’t want to do that, not yet. This foreplay is amazing, hot and steamy and as urgent and as rough as I like it. I don’t know how far I can push her, but I have a feeling that Kylie likes it a little rough.

If that’s the case, I want to keep playing.

I slide my hands down her arms until I reach her wrists and lift her arms over her head. I pin her wrists with one hand, and she gasps, turned on. I reach down with my other hand and push it into her pants. She’s not wearing panties, just like I thought, and my hand slips between her legs with ease. She widens her stance slightly, and I push my fingers into her tight, wet pussy. I groan.

“God, you’re so wet,” I say.

She replies with a muffled moan.

I only finger her for a short while before I want more. I let go of her wrists and lift her up, pinning her against the wall with my body. Her legs wrap around my waist, and it’s like she’s trying to pull me into her already. I grind myself against her crotch, and she cries out and gasps.

I hold onto her and move away from the wall. She’s so much lighter than I thought she would be. I carry her upstairs. It takes concentration to balance on the stairs but she clings to me, and it’s not hard to carry her.

In my bedroom, I walk to the bed and set her down. I kiss her again and reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. I break the kiss to pull her shirt over her head, and she’s topless in front of me, her breasts ripe and beautiful in the soft bedroom light.

I drop the shirt and nudge her back so she lies down. I pull her pants off with one easy tug, and she’s naked. She looks at me, her pupils dilated, and her lips parted. She has a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and she spreads her legs for me. She lies in front of me, her pussy on display and I can see how turned on she is. Her lips glisten in the light, and I swallow hard, biting down on my control. I want to take her right now, my cock wants to release, but I want to play, first.

It’s a short conflict.

“Play with yourself,” I command. I can’t tell what she thinks. Her eyes are unreadable for a moment, but then she slides her hands down her body. She keeps her palms flat, her fingers spread feeling every inch of herself. I back up until my legs hit the armchair in the corner. I sit down. I’m still dressed, but I need to stay far away from her if I don’t want to grab her and fuck her.

Her hands move further down her body, coming close together between her hips before she pulls them up again. She caresses her own body. Her eyes are closed, and she arches her back. I can tell she’s getting into it. I’m getting into it. Fuck, she’s so hot, touching herself.

Her one hand moves up to her full tit, and she massages it, pinching her nipple and rubbing herself. Her other hand slips between her legs, and she pushes her fingers into her slit. She moves her fingers up and down her wetness, her fingers on either side of her clit. Her mouth is slightly open, and she gasps. She curls and writhes on the bed.

I don’t know how long it will take until she comes but it sounds like she’s getting closer. I want her to come. I want to fuck her so badly, but not until she makes herself come.

She pushes her fingers into herself, going as deep as she can. She uses two fingers and pumps in and out a few times at an angle that’s new to me.

A moment later, she returns to her clit and rubs her fingers in circles over her clit. She gasps, her moans filling the room. She’s so hot playing with herself, rubbing, massaging, and exploring her own body.

I fight the urge to touch myself while I watch her. I’m so hard in my pants it hurts, but I don’t want to give myself any release. When I can’t hold it anymore, I touch myself through my pants. My shaft is long and thick, the flesh is hot, and I shudder. My eyes are glued to her body. She curls on the bed. She scissors her legs, arches her back and writhes. Her gasps turn to moans.

She rubs herself faster and faster. She cries out and rolls to her side, burying her face in the mattress as she cries out and comes so fucking hard. For a moment, she’s silent, and then she cries out again and breathes hard.

I get up. I can’t hold it anymore. I have to have her. I yank down my pants, pull off my shirt and in a few steps, I’m in front of her. I reach for her and pull her up so that she’s sitting. My hand is behind her neck, and I pull her toward my cock. She understands what I want and slips off the bed, kneeling before me.

She takes my cock in her one hand, the other wraps around my balls and she closes her mouth around the tip of my cock. I nearly explode in her mouth, but I hold back. She moves her head forward, sucking me deeper. Her mouth is hot and wet, slick. I slide in and out. She sucks me but I want more.

I put my hands behind her head. I pull her toward me so that my cock goes deeper into her mouth. I do it slowly, so she has a chance to resist me. I want her to tell me if she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t resist me. In fact, she relaxes. I trust that she’ll let me know if she doesn’t like what I’m about to do, next.

I start pumping into her mouth, using my hands on her head to guide her. I fuck her mouth, pumping in and out, going deeper and deeper. She takes me down her throat. I didn’t know she could do that, and it’s mind-blowing. I let her pull back now and then to breathe before I push into her mouth again and fuck her mouth a little faster, a little harder.

I’m about to come when I yank back, and my cock pops out of her mouth. She gasps, breathing hard. Her hair is a mess where I held her. Her tits have a red blush across the skin, her face full of lust.

I want her. She wants me. I want to take her, and she’s going to like it. No, she’s going to fucking love it.

Kylie

I’m letting him push his cock into my throat as far as it will go. I want him inside me, and it’s one way to penetrate me. And I like it when he dominates me. The more he does it, the more it turns me on. I will never be into real pain like some people, but I like the idea of Wes having his way with me, taking what he wants from me.

When he pushes into my mouth, I let my mind go blank and focus on what I’m feeling. I still have my hands wrapped around his balls, and I squeeze them lightly, getting him that much closer to the edge. I know he could come anytime, but I also don’t think he’s going to let loose. Not yet.

It looks like he’s the type to hold out as long as he can if our first session and this foreplay are anything to go by.

When he pulls back, his cock comes out of my mouth with a pop, and I look up at him, breathing hard. His face is riddled with lust as he looks down at me. I take his outstretched hand, letting him pull me up. He pushes me back onto the bed, following me down so that we end up on the mattress together. He kisses me hard, one hand in my hair, pulling lightly when he slides his other hand around to my neck. He holds my neck without strangling me. It’s enough to know he can keep me there if he wants to. I know he won’t, but the illusion does the trick, and I feel myself getting wetter.

Wes pauses and looks at me, face concerned.

“Is this okay?” he asks. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Trust me.”

It’s all he needs to know. I’m not sure if it’s trust or lust that spurs him on but he kisses me again, and his hand is on my throat. His body is grinding against mine. He’s not inside me but his cock rubs against my pussy, and it’s driving me crazy. He’s so close to taking me, but he’s not doing it. As he kisses me, sliding his tongue in and out of my mouth, it’s like he’s fucking me already. His cock slides up and down my slit, my wetness coating it. I moan in between our kisses and gasp when he grabs one tit and squeezes it hard enough to be just this side of pain.

It translates into pure pleasure and I cry out, breaking the kiss.

My legs are open, and Wes is between them, his hips forcing my thighs open even wider. He pushes into me, and it’s what I’ve been waiting for him to do. He was teasing me with this the whole time, sliding up and down past my entrance and ignoring it.

The moment he’s inside me, he starts fucking me. He braces himself with his arms on either side of my head and holds himself over my body. His hips buck, and he slams into me, fucking me so hard I cry out with every stroke. There’s no reason to be quiet, now. I don’t have to worry about who will hear me because it’s just Wes and me. I reach up and put my hands on his shoulders. I can feel the muscles ripple under the skin as he moves and holds himself over me to not crush me.

I wrap my legs around his upper thighs and ride the rhythm with him.

When slows for a moment and leans on his elbows instead. His body is pressed up against mine, now, skin touching from crotch to chest. He looks me in the eyes. His face is riddled with concentration and pleasure, and I lift my head and kiss him. The kiss doesn’t last very long – we’re breathing too hard for that.

When he regains a bit of strength and pushes up on his arm again, I reach for my tits. He loved it when I touched myself before. It was fucking hot having him watch me do it.

I squeeze and massage my tits. His eyes slide to my chest, and he watches my hand as I knead my tits, pinching the nipples. He starts fucking me harder. I let one hand trail lower down, pushing it in between our bodies. His body slams into mine and clamps my hand between our bodies when I find my clit, but I keep going. I rub myself, working my hand between our bodies as he slams into me again and again, burying his cock inside of me. He’s looking down at where our bodies merge, where our sex comes together. He’s breathing hard.

I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation. I hold my hand still and let his rocking, his rhythm, work its magic. My finger is on my clit and his fucking moves it around, and the sensation is orgasmic. It’s exactly what I want.

I’m trapped beneath Wes’s body – he pins me down with his hips, his hands on either side of my head – and I love it. It’s a thrill to be with this man – an icon of sorts in the business world – and to know that I’m the object of his lust. I don’t care that there is no affection involved.

I don’t date. I don’t do love. If he doesn’t do it, either, all the better for us.

I’m getting close to my orgasm, moaning and gasping, when Wes stops.

He pushes himself up and slips out of me. I groan in protest, feeling his absence acutely. He’s on his knees and takes my ankles on either side of him. He lifts my legs up and holds them against his body so they’re up in the air. He slides his hand down one leg while holding my ankles firmly with the other. His hand strokes my skin all the way down to my ass. He grabs my ass cheek, squeezes it before he finds my entrance with his fingers and pushes them in.

“I love the way you feel,” he says.

I breathe hard, my body going numb in all the right places when he does that, changing the feel of everything. Wes is an expert and knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s driving me crazy with desire and sensory overload.

When I’m moaning and writhing again, he removes his fingers and almost immediately, replaces them with his swollen cock. He pushes into me hard and fast, barely letting me adjust to the feel of him, and I cry out. He holds my legs up, and at this angle, he plunges so much deeper inside me. His cock pushes in and out, stroking me in different places than before and I’m drowning in the feel of him.

He fucks me harder and harder. My body rocks back and forth on the bed. I can feel the friction of the bedding beneath my back. Wes’s one arm is around my shins now, holding up my legs. The other arm is outstretched, hand on my thigh. My tits swing back and forth as he fucks me.

I close my eyes. I’m moaning in rhythm with his fucking. An orgasm grows as he does this, starting deep down at my core and slowly running outward.

Wes opens my legs a little so that my feet are on either side of his face. He leans forward, slowly, pushing my legs toward me. He’s folding me in half and the further he pushes me down the deeper he goes. I cry out. His thrusts are sharp, but they’re more pleasure than pain, and I’m lost in the feel of him riding me, fucking me, doing to me as he pleases.

The fact that he’s using me to pleasure himself pushes me closer to the edge.

The room fills with the sounds of our sex. My cries are everything but soft. I am as vocal as I get. He’s pounding me at an angle I’ve never had before, and I’m a moaner anyway. The slick sound of his cock pumping in and out of me laces the sounds of my moans, his hips slapping against my thighs, the grunts and groans of his effort.

It’s hot and heavy. I’m splayed out on his bed, and it’s not the least bit elegant, but I don’t care. He’s taking me, and the ecstasy of it is all that counts right now.

As if he’s been holding back, Wes picks it up another gear. He hammers into me harder and faster than before, and my cries fall away until they’re just gasps and breathy cries. My muscles clench, pleasure washes through me in waves, but I know it’s not time yet. I’m close but not quite to my next orgasm.

Finally, Wes slows. He has incredible stamina but even he can’t go on forever. When he slides in and out of me with slow strokes, I can finally think straight again.

“Lie down on the bed,” I say while he’s still inside me. “Let me do the work for a change.”

Wes stops. He’s still inside me, but he doesn’t move. I can feel his pulse, his cock throbbing slightly inside me.

He pulls out slowly, and I gasp. I’m sensitive from how he’s been fucking me so hard, and I can feel every inch of him as he pulls out.

When he lets down my legs, I take a moment to recover. He lies down next to me. I turn my face to his and kiss him. He smiles, and I push myself up, crawling onto him. I straddle him, but I show him my ass, facing his feet when I throw my leg over his hips.

I hold onto his cock. It’s slick with our juices, the flesh hot and thick. I position him at my entrance and slowly sit down on him. I’m so wet, and he slips in with ease. I feel him all the way in and moan as he slides home.

Reverse cowgirl feels different because his cock lays at a different angle than my body does. He strokes up against my walls, pushing down against me. I start moving my hips back and forth, riding him.

Wes’s hands are on my hips, and I know he’s getting a beautiful view of my ass. My cheeks are spread when I sit down on him, my ass bubbling out and with every movement I know my body jiggles and bounces. I’m not overweight, but I am curvy. My muscles aren’t toned like an athlete’s, and when I rock back and forth, riding him, I know I jiggle.

And I know men like it. They are mesmerizing by the back and forth motion of tits swinging and asses jiggling. The skin-and-bones models of today might be the standard all women feel they’re held to, but give a man a woman with curves, bits that jiggle back and forth during sex, and he’ll be a hell of a lot more turned on.

I start rocking back and forth harder and faster. His cock slides in and out of me. His hands are on my hips, fingers digging into my skin when I go faster, letting me know that he’s loving what I’m doing. His grunts and groans are getting louder and come more often, and they join my own moans in a soundtrack that defines our night.

My tits rock back and forth, and I put my hands on them for a moment, feeling them, before I brace myself with one hand on his thigh in front of me and one hand on his hip behind me to give me enough leverage to keep going like this.

Wes

Kylie is a goddess. I noticed her when I reviewed her application and lusted after her since our interview together. Even knowing she was up to something, I still wanted her. Bu this is a whole new level. When we were fucking in my office, she was careful and quiet. I had been worried then about how much noise she was making. I understand, now, that she was being very quiet, then. She’s so vocal now, and it’s a turn on.

She rocks back and forth on me, riding me hard, and I get lost in the feel of her. My hands are on her hips as I watch her ass. It’s big and beautiful, the kind of ass that deserves to be stared at and admired. I’ve always liked a woman with a bit of meat on her, and her ample ass balances out her larger tits perfectly.

Kylie rocks back and forth on my cock like she knows I’m staring at her ass. I squeeze her cheeks and relish in the feel of her. Her hair hangs down her back in a wavy waterfall, swaying as she moves. I slide my hands up her back, underneath the hair and run their silkiness through my fingers. Everything about Kylie scream feminine and sexuality.

Her hands move, and she’s feeling herself. I can see her running her hand over her tits. It’s so hot when she touches herself. Women have very little self-esteem these days, and with Kylie touching herself like that I get the idea that she’s happy with her body, that she loves herself in a way that is healthy.

Her one arm stays bent, I guess her hand is still on her tit, but the other moves, and I picture her sliding it down her body again. I have more than enough imagery to fall back on after watching her play with herself, touching herself, feeling herself. I imagine she pushes her fingers into her slit and right after I do, I can feel her at the base of my cock where I’m sliding into her, with her fingers fluttering lightly over my balls. She touches me and I shiver. She starts moaning louder, and I know she’s playing with herself.

Her fucking becomes a little more rhythmic than it was and her moans become a little breathy. Her body convulses on mine, waves of pleasure coursing through her, clamping down on me now and then as she gets closer and closer to orgasm. God, yes. When she orgasms on top of me it takes so much for me to control myself. But I’m not going to come, I tell myself. Not yet.

She rocks harder and faster. Her moans have disappeared, and she only breathes hard now, as if it’s too much effort for her to concentrate on her orgasm and moan so loudly at the same time.

I feel it when her orgasm takes off. Her body spasms, and she cries out sharply before she clamps down on me, her walls clenching me. I shudder, holding back my own orgasm. She curls inward, her hair falling over her shoulders and around her face and I feel her body contracting and releasing, contracting and releasing until the orgasm finally subsides.

When she leans far enough forward that she needs to brace herself with her arms, I gently take her arm and guide her off me. She sits cross-legged on the bed next to me, spent. Her eyes are glazed when she looks at me, and she has a satisfied grin on her face. I want to come, still. I want to explode inside of her, but not in her pussy.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and gently pull her face down to my cock. It lies thick and erect against my lower abdomen. I can smell our sex hanging in the room, and I know what’s waiting for her when she closes her mouth around my cock. The thought of her having the taste of both our sex in her mouth is orgasmic all by itself.

I keep my hand behind her neck and guide her as she starts bobbing her head. She slides her mouth over my cock, and I imagine what she’s tasting, how much of our sex together she’s picking up.

She moans a little muffled around my cock, and I know she’s not unhappy.

“I want to come in your mouth,” I tell her.

In response, she starts moving her head up and down my cock, sliding me in and out of her mouth faster and faster. She’s fantastic with her tongue, sliding it around my shaft when she pulls out every time. Her mouth is hot, and it’s a very close second to sex. She’s fucking good at it.

Some women are gifted with the ability to provide extreme pleasure with their mouths. You can give a million blowjobs, but if you have that extra talent, the others can’t compare.

I don’t have time to think about much else. Kylie wraps her hand around my balls and squeezes lightly – it doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough to remind my cock what it’s here to do. I can feel myself hardening, growing bigger as she fucks me with her mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the feeling of her hot mouth around my cock. The muscles in my stomach contract, and I twitch involuntarily.

A moment later, the orgasm rips through me, and I let it go. I spasm and jerk, releasing hot cum into her mouth. The moment I do she slows her movement and sucks me off languidly, careful not to suck on the tip where it gets so very sensitive. She milks me with her sucking, and it feels like I’m pumping cum into her forever before it finally stops.

I breathe hard, coming back to my senses. She slides me out of her mouth and looks up at me. She flashes me a smile before she gets up and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. It doesn’t take long, and then she’s back.

I don’t ask her what she did – if she spit it out or cleaned herself up – because she crawls back onto the bed and nestles herself into the crook of my arm. I hold onto her, and she lies on my chest. Her tits are soft and sizable when she presses them against me, and her hair is on my shoulder and my neck. For a moment, I think about how she fits into the curve of my body perfectly, complimenting me, but I push it away.

“You’re fantastic,” I say to her.

She smiles and kisses me on the cheek.

“You’re pretty good yourself.”

We lie together in silence. I’m still buzzing after my orgasm, after the mind-blowing sex we had. She’s quiet next to me except for a contented sigh.

This feels right, having her next to me in my bed.

When I turn my head a little and glance at her, she has a frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shakes her head on my shoulder.

“Come on, tell me,” I say. “We just had the best sex ever. You should be basking in the afterglow.”

She rolls onto her back. Her head is still on my arm, her side pressed tightly against mine, but I’ve lost a little bit of her. I’m fairly certain she’s questioning what’s going on. That was fucking amazing. There’s no way she didn’t feel it too. And for her to be keeping the kind of secret she is from me, even if I don’t fully understand it? Well, it can’t be easy.

“I’m worried about this,” she says. “I’m scared this will come out at work.” So she decides to fall back on that?

I sigh. “I hoped that if we bring it here, to my place, you won’t worry about it anymore. We both want each other, sex is natural. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t do this.”

She shakes her head. “That’s fine logic, Wes, except there is a rule at RidgeCo about not fraternizing with your co-worker. And no matter where we do it, how far away we get from the office, as long as we work there the rule applies.”

I nod. I know she’s right.

“Look, sweetheart, I’m not going to tell anyone. You know that, right?”

She nods. “I’m not worried about you telling anyone,” she says. “But someone like Leon might say something.”

Just the mention of him sets me on edge. I turn my face to her. “Did he say something to you?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I overheard your conversation with him the other day, though. He’s not very happy.”

“He doesn’t know. You know that, right?”

She nods. “I figured he can’t know anything, but he hates me as it is, and it can still turn ugly if he spreads rumors that turn out to be true. I don’t know what it is, but I get a funny feeling about that guy. Something isn’t right.”

I nod. I understand what she’s saying. I’m unhappy that it’s an issue so soon after we have sex, that I can’t relish in the pleasure of it, but she’s right. It can get ugly. Especially when I suspect she’s right about Leon—there’s more to his story.

“Well, then we just make sure there’s nothing for him to point to about our behavior. Let’s lay down some ground rules.”

She smiles. “You’re making rules?”

I nod. “So, we both know where we stand. And you said so yourself. You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you, too. I’m sure you’ve noticed. So instead of putting ourselves in a difficult place by denying what we both want, we’ll do it where it won’t hurt us.”

“Nothing at the office,” she says. “Not even casual friendship. Strictly business.”

“Right,” I say. “And nothing in public, either. Even if we’re away from the office. We’ll meet up only at my place. No one will know. No one will be able to guess because there will be nothing.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“Does that help?” I ask. I can tell how tense she is about this. I know she’s worried about losing her job after she told me a bit of what her life was life. I have never known a life without security and money. Even my job was certain from the start because of who my dad is and what kind of influence he has over the company. He’s good friends with the owner. I was going to get this job from the start.

I pull Kylie back onto my chest and kiss her forehead. I want to lie with her a little bit and not think about anything important. I want to relish in the sex we’ve had.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks.

I close my eyes for a moment. She thinks a lot. I don’t want to discuss everything, but I will indulge her because she is a woman and women need to talk. And I don’t want her to think that only her body matters to me and not what’s on her mind.

“Of course,” I say.

“Why did you hire me?”

Right. The other thing Leon mentioned.

I open my eyes again and look at her. Her eyes are impossibly big when she looks up at me, and I see more worry on her face.

“I hired you because you have an MBA, a qualification that means you’re great in this position. You’re intelligent, hard-working and willing to learn.”

She hesitates, and for the briefest of moments I wonder if she’s aware that I know what she’s up to. Or what she was up to because I’m not so sure she is anymore. Not after everything we just shared. That’s what I’m hoping, anyway.

“Look, Kylie, you’re beautiful. There’s no doubt about that. You’re sexy even when you’re not trying to be. But I needed someone who could do the job when I looked for someone to hire, and you fit the bill because your skillset is what I need. I didn’t hire you because you’re a pretty face.” I kiss her on the lips. “Your beautiful face is a total bonus of course, and the fact that you’re great in bed. But for my company, that wasn’t what it was about.”

She nods, slowly. “Leon just gets to me, sometimes,” she says. “He’s difficult to handle.”

I nod. “He is. He’s a difficult character to start off with, but he’s struggling with some personal things, and it makes him worse.”

She sighs. I know that I shouldn’t allow it to affect everyone the way it does but my conscience rides me about this one. Not everyone has as much money as I do, and I know Leon has a long road of bills ahead when they start chemo.

Kylie kisses me, and she pushes every thought out of my mind. She meets my tongue with her own, and for a moment we’re pressed together, making out. When she breaks the kiss, she touches my cheek.

“I have to get going,” she says.

She doesn’t offer to stay the night. She doesn’t ask if she can. She gets off the bed and starts getting dressed. It doesn’t take her long to pull on her clothes – with no underwear and only a t-shirt and slacks she’s done in no time.

I walk her to the door. She gives me a chaste kiss on the lips before she walks out.

“I’ll see you at the office,” she says over her shoulder before she disappears into the night.

Kylie

On Thursday, I’m in the meeting room with Leon and Clive. Clive is on my team, another manager of sorts. His hair is so dark it looks black, and he has tanned skin from spending a lot of time in the sun. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows; he’s lost his tie, and the top button of his shirt is undone. Clive’s arms are folded across his chest, and he looks bored or irritated. Or both.

Leon is bent over my files. He braces himself on the table, and he has a permanent scowl on his face. He frowns a lot, I realize. Deep frown marks are imbedded between his brows.

“I don’t like it,” Leon says. “This is not going to work.”

I am about ready to give up. Really, I just want to scream. Leon doesn’t like anything I do, no matter what it is. I’ve redone the plans for him twice.

“What is it that you don’t like?” I ask. “Maybe if you show me exactly, I can only fix that part instead of doing the whole thing again another time.”

Leon shakes his head. “You can’t take shortcuts in this job, Jordan.”

He always refers to me by my last name, like I’m some dude he can’t stand. I sigh.

“I’m not taking shortcuts. I’m trying to jump through hoops to make you happy, but that’s damn near impossible.”

He looks up at me. I can only hold back for so long. Leon is a pain in my ass, and he’s out to make life difficult for me. We’ve been arguing about these plans for the past two hours, now, and that’s after I’ve redone them for him. Again.

“You better watch yourself, missy,” he says. “I’ve been here a lot longer than you. If I tell you it’s not working, you better believe I know what I’m talking about.”

I glance at Clive. He shrugs at me and shakes his head. I’m a little irritated with him that he won’t step in and say something to defend me, but a part of me doesn’t blame him. If I had a choice to stay out of Leon’s way, I would do the same.

“So, what now?” I ask Leon. “What is it that you want me to do?”

Leon sighs, exasperated. “Well, telling you again is pointless, isn’t it? I’ve already tried twice, and you don’t seem to get what it is I’m saying.”

He’s making me sound like I’m stupid. I’m getting angry. My throat is tight, and my eyes sting, and I realize I want to cry.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry I will myself. That’s the last thing on earth that I want to do. I’m not going to give Leon the satisfaction.

“Your ideas aren’t what I’m looking for at all. They were incorrect from the start,” Leon says. “I don’t know how you’re planning on moving forward with this project when the basics are all wrong. I asked for a project manager. I was expecting someone who knew how to do the job, not some incompetent receptionist who’s more concerned with looking good for her boss than doing her job.”

Every insult hits me like a physical punch. He’s breaking me down as a person, and I don’t appreciate it. I don’t know what to do. I want to fight with him but I’m new, and he’s my superior. Clive stands on the other side of the table, not saying anything, and I wish he would stick up for me for once.

“I’m going to step outside for some air,” I say. “We can continue this in fifteen minutes.”

Leon shakes his head. “No, you can go back to your desk and find something else to do. I’ll sort out this mess and do your job. Don’t bother coming back to sort this out. I’ve got it.”

I swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. I’m not going to cry. I won’t.

I leave the meeting room and walk toward the sliding door that opens onto the smoker’s area. I don’t smoke, but I need to get some air to breathe. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, squashing me out of existence.

When I’m outside the chilly breeze is sobering, and I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to deal with Leon. I work hard, and I put everything I have into this.

I don’t know how long I’m outside. I don’t want to go back inside if I’m honest. Maybe I wasn’t the best candidate for the job. Leon makes it so clear that I don’t know what I’m doing and I am in over my head. It’s only been two weeks since I started, but I can’t seem to find the right stride, and I’m starting to doubt myself.

It’s just because of what Leon said, I tell myself. He was rude and mean. When I have to interact with him, I feel despondent about my job. I feel like all my hard work means nothing. It’s funny, when I first got the promotion, all I could think about was how this put me one step closer to finding a way to bring RidgeCo down, to get back at the owner for ruining my family. But somewhere along the way I really started caring about the job and the projects. They mean something to me. With everything going on with Wes, part of me just wants to throw my whole plan out the window and be exactly the woman he thinks I am.

But I can’t run away from this. I must keep pushing through. I take a deep breath and hold it for three seconds. I need to get through this. I only allow myself a little bit of time to fall apart, and then I pull myself together and walk back inside.

When I walk in through the sliding doors, Wes comes from somewhere down the corridor. He glances at me. I look away. We said we would be strictly professional in public, and I’m not in a professional mood. I’m upset. I’m angry.

“Kylie,” Wes calls when I turn to walk to my desk.

I stop and turn around, waiting for him to come to me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Perfectly fine.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“You’re not being honest with me,” he says.

I take a deep breath. “It’s nothing, Wes. Really.”

He shakes his head. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he says. “Is it Leon?”

I don’t know how he knows, but I nod. I’m not going to lie to his face. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” I say. “There’s just no way for me to please the guy.”

I want to cry again, and I swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. I don’t want to look pathetic and cry in front of Wes about something like me not getting along with my boss. But it’s starting to get to me.

“Tell me what happened,” Wes says.

I shake my head. I don’t want to be the one to run around talking behind his back.

“Kylie, we have to sort this out. As your boss, I want to make sure it’s all cleared up. I can’t have my employees fighting.”

I guess he’s right.

“He’s not happy with my plans no matter what I do. I’ve redone them twice now. He seems to be sure of himself that I’m unfit for this job, and he’s not scared to tell me so, repeatedly.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I offered to redo it again, if he’ll just tell me where I went wrong, but he won’t do that. He said he’ll just do it himself so it gets done right. I was told not to go back into the meeting.”

Wes nods, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s got his poker face on, carefully expressionless. If he’s angry, it doesn’t show.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s go back in there and sort this out.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to look for trouble.”

Wes looks at me. “You’re not looking for trouble. You’re doing as I ask. I’m going in there to help sort this out because I’m higher up than he is, and he has to listen to me.

“Alright,” I say. “But I don’t want it to look like I came running to you with this.”

Wes nods. “I know what to do. Come with me.”

My stomach turns when I follow Wes back to the meeting room. I don’t want him to fight my battles for me – I’ve never been that kind of woman – and I don’t want Leon to think I’ve been tattling behind his back like a child. But I can’t very well tell Wes no, not if we’re going to be strictly business with each other and he’s my boss. I just don’t want to do this.

Wes allows me to walk into the meeting room, first. Leon looks up and scowls when he sees me.

“I thought I asked you to stay away,” he says.

“And I asked her to come back,” Wes says, coming in after me. Clive steps away from the wall he was leaning against, and Leon looks pissed.

“So, what, she ran to you?” Leon asks. “This is the grown-up world, Jordan.”

“That’s enough, Leon,” Wes says. His voice is firm but calm. “I caught her outside, and I asked her why she’s not in a compulsory meeting, only to learn that you asked her to leave.”

Leon nods, glaring at me. I’m grateful Wes made it sound like he was reprimanding me for not doing my job instead of making it look like I leaned on him for help.

“I’m not going to work with people who don’t know what they’re talking about, no matter who hired them,” Leon says. “If we’re going to produce something – anything – by this time next year, it will be a miracle at the rate we’re going, now.”

Wes shakes his head. “What’s the problem?” he asks.

Leon waves his hand at my files. “Her work is useless.”

Wes walks toward the table. I’m rooted to the spot, unsure. I want to run away if I’m honest.

“Let’s see this,” Wes says, and he picks up my files, looking through what I’ve come up with to see for himself. He frowns and we’re all waiting in quiet anticipation while Wes reads through everything. After what feels like forever, he looks up at me with a frown.

Oh, God. I’ve blown it, haven’t I?

“This is good, Kylie,” Wes says. I blink at him. Say what now? “I like this.” Wes turns to Leon. “What was your problem with it?”

Leon is getting angry. His face is turning red, his eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is tightening as he grinds his teeth.

“Most of it is rubbish. I can’t work like this.”

Wes frowns at the file before he looks at Clive.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Clive didn’t say much once Leon started going on negatively about my work. Now, finally able to speak, he nods. “I think it’s excellent,” he says. “I like it, too.”

Leon snorts. “Are you going to kiss ass just because the CEO is here?” he sneers at Clive.

“Leon,” Wes says in a reprimanding voice.

“What?” Leon asks as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Are you going to stick up for her? It’s sad how much you’ll overlook for her. What, is it because she’s so good, as you said? Or is it because of her uncanny ability to spread her legs?”

Blood drains from my face, and the room sways for a moment. I feel like I’m going to faint. Leon can’t know. We have done nothing after that night at Wes’s place, and we’ve seen so little of each other at the office it can’t be possible.

I glance at Wes. He doesn’t seem faint the way I feel. He looks pissed off.

“Don’t be a dick, Leon,” he says, which is not a not very professional response, but his anger reverberates in the room. “That’s completely unacceptable.”

“Come on! Why can no one see that she’s an imposter! She’s just a slut trying to sleep her way to the top,” he sneers. “Runs in the family, I guess.”

Oh my God. I feel like I’ve just been punched in the gut. How could Leon possibly know that history? Was he around when my mother worked for the company? Is that why he’s so vindictive toward me? But it doesn’t make sense. Why would he care? Why would he be angry with me?

Wes shakes his head, his body visibly radiating with anger. He’s so upset he looks like he’s on the verge of exploding at Leon, but he manages to practice extraordinary self-control.

“Go home, Leon,” he says softly. His quiet anger is scary.

“You’re making me leave?” Leon asks, incredulous.

“You’re lucky I don’t fire you,” Wes says, and judging by how his voice sounds, he means it. I don’t doubt that Wes has what it takes to get rid of someone.

Leon is angry. His fists are clenched, mouth is clamped tight, neck muscles are bulging, and his eyes are narrow slits. He’s so furious he looks like he’s going to erupt in violence. His eyes flit across the room.

“Don’t even think about it,” Wes says. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but Leon seems to understand. He storms out of the meeting room. Wes sighs and turns to me.

“Here,” he says, handing me my files. “Keep up the good work.”

He leaves the meeting room. Clive looks at me with eyebrows raised.

“Well, that was intense,” he says. I nod, more than a little shaken up. “I’m going to get back to work,” Clive says. “Just pretend none of this happened.”

I swallow and nod. I watch Clive leave. When he’s gone, I’m alone in the meeting room with my files. I stare down at them. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate, now?

Wes

When get back into my office, I’m fuming. I can’t believe Leon went that far. I know the guy is in a bad place in his life. I get that he doesn’t like Kylie. Hell, we all have our bad days. But saying she spreads her legs is completely unacceptable. And what was that dig about her family? We haven’t talked about her family any more than that one time, but the comment makes me wonder.

It doesn’t only grate on me because his words were true. She is sleeping with me, yeah, but it’s not for favors and she sure as shit isn’t banging anyone else in the office. But it’s more than that. It’s the disrespect that went with it. Whatever Kylie chooses to do in her spare time, she’s a lady. She deserves to be treated as such, and I won’t tolerate sexist comments like that.

I’m so angry. I need to calm down. I want to talk to Leon about it, but not now. If I talk to him about it now, I might say something I’m going to regret.

I don’t have a lot of time to recover and find my calm again before Leon barges into my office.

When he slams the door behind him, I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten in my head.

I open my eyes again and force myself to be calm. “Firstly, Leon, you can knock. And don’t slam the door, I will take damages directly out of your salary.”

He scowls and marches across the office toward the chairs opposite me. He comes at me like a force of nature, pure rage. I’m not scared of him but I’m glad there’s a desk between us, and I’m in a position of power over him.

“How can you undermine me like that?” he asks. His voice is loud already. He’s not shouting, but he’s damn close.

“Excuse me? Do you want to tell me how I was wrong in that scenario? I come into a meeting where you’re being completely unreasonable, and I’m the one undermining you?”

Leon shakes his head. His hands are on his hips. “I’m tired of everyone sticking up for that Jordan woman like she’s worth her salt in this company. She’s been here two weeks. I’ve been here for fifteen years. Fifteen years, Wes. You were barely in high school when I started out here. I know what I’m doing.”

I nod. “And so does she. She’s not your superior. Your skills are noticed and appreciated, Leon. If I thought you weren’t an asset anymore, I sure as hell wouldn’t have let as much of your bullshit slide as I’m doing.”

Leon frowns at me. “Bullshit? My bullshit?”

I nod. “You made a sexist remark in front of witnesses today, Leon. That’s sexual harassment. She can report you to the board, and they can put you up for review. You can lose everything. Sexual harassment in this company is a serious crime.”

“Is it more serious than fraternizing?” Leon asks. His question is carefully constructed to have an effect, and he succeeds. My blood runs cold. But it’s Leon. He knows which buttons to push. He can’t know.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask. “Is there something someone is doing that I should know about? Is someone doing something you can prove to me?”

Leon was about to answer the first question but the second one pulls him up short because, of course, there is no proof of anything.

“I think you’re being unfair. You may not like Kylie, but that doesn’t mean you get to make her life hell.”

“I know something’s going on between the two of you,” Leon says.

I swallow. “Why do you think that?” I ask.

Leon sighs in frustration. “It’s the way she looks at you. Often. And sometimes, the way you look back.”

I blink at Leon. “You think I’m doing something wrong because of me looking at someone?”

“You know what I mean,” Leon says, making a face.

I shake my head. “You need to stop this, now. If you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to lose your job. I’ve given you more warnings than you deserve. I know you’re having problems at home, that Martha is sick, but it’s not going to protect you from everything you’re dishing out.”

Leon is angry again. He needs to get a hold of himself soon, or things will get ugly.

“Do yourself a favor,” I say. “Go see someone. Talk about what’s bothering you. Get it out of your system, so you don’t mess up everyone else’s day.”

“Are you suggesting I need therapy?” Leon asks, incredulous and his surprise seems to trump has anger for a moment.

I shake my head. “I’m not suggesting, Leon. Sort yourself out. I would hate to see you leave us like this. A run as good as yours should end with a happy retirement, not with being fired for insubordination.”

“You won’t fire me,” Leon says.

I sigh. “I don’t want to, but if you push me hard enough, I will.”

Leon’s face is turning red as his anger flares again.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” he says, and he jabs a finger at me. It pisses me off when people point at me, but I try to let it slide. Leon is unstable right now. He needs to calm down, and if I rise to his anger with my own it’s just going to spiral out of control. I’m proud of myself for holding onto my calm for so long. If Leon keeps pushing me, I’ll snap at some point. But it won’t be today.

“Leon, let’s focus on the problem at hand, okay?

“Ha!” Leon barks a laugh. “The problem at hand? If you think I’m just going to let this slide, you’re wrong. I’ve been around here long enough to know what it looks like if something’s going on. I’ve seen it firsthand. And it never ends well. Mark my words, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

I sigh. I can only be calm for so long. I can’t suppress the anger forever. I have to either explode or let it drain away, so I do the latter. I feel the anger slipping away until all that’s left is fatigue. I’m so tired of this shit with Leon.

“I told you to go home, Leon. Take the day. Hell, take the week if you must. Pull yourself together before you come back to the office, okay?”

“This isn’t over, Wes,” he says. The anger in his voice is wound just as tight as before. He hasn’t calmed down at all. That’s what bothers me – that he’ll keep going like this until something blows up in my face.

“Yes, Leon, it is.” I look at him, my eyes empty. “Go home. I’m not going to say it again. If you make me repeat it, I’m going to tell you not to come back.”

Leon narrows his eyes at me. I see him wanting to challenge me like a defiant child, to test the limit. But I’m not joking, and I think he can see it in my eyes because he turns around without saying another word and storms to my office door. He lets himself out and slams it shut so hard the pen holder on my desk rattles.

I sigh and turn my swivel chair toward the window, looking out over San Francisco. I don’t know how to deal with Leon. He’s right; I don’t want to fire him. But he’s pushing me further and further, and he’s threatening to find out all these things about Kylie and me. There is nothing to discover, as far as I’m concerned. We’re careful now. Yes, we’re breaking the rules, but we’re doing it in private.

And with every day that passes, I’m growing more and more certain that there’s nothing to discover about Kylie. I’m starting to doubt my sources altogether about her ulterior motives. Yeah, there have been moments when she’s acted strangely. But that could just be nerves about losing her job, exactly like she says. What if she’s not out to get me or RidgeCo?

It’s what I want to believe. Because where I started out just wanting to fuck her over for messing with my company, now all I want is just to fuck her. Every day and every night.

I don’t think Leon will find anything. I don’t think I have anything to be nervous about if neither of us says anything about it to anyone. Not in the office and not outside of it. Secrets have a way of biting you in the ass when they come out, and I don’t want that to happen.

Leon doesn’t like Kylie. I’m not sure why – and strangely enough, I don’t think it’s actually about me and her at all. I think Leon is just grabbing for something to use against us. He’s hated the idea of promoting her to project manager from the start. He never liked the idea of having her around. I’m sure that even if she weren’t interested in me at all and we never slept together, he would have said the same things and been just as unhappy about the whole thing as he is, now.

I must deal with him, but I don’t know how.

At least, I know he has no proof of anything. Kylie was right to worry about Leon, but I know he won’t have anything to hold against us. It’s what’s saving us right now. If anything, it makes Leon look more unstable than he already is, and if it does go to the board, they’ll look at him like he’s crazy just like everyone else is.

I saw how Clive looked at him earlier when Leon went on about her spreading her legs. His lips were curled in a smile. He thought it ridiculous. Because that’s exactly what Leon is being.

No, everything Leon points out only makes him look worse. It does nothing to us, not without proof. Everyone knows that Leon is hurting, that since he found out about the cancer, he’s slowly been slipping into some form of madness. I keep him on because he is still good at what he does, and I feel sorry for him, but that’s not going to last forever. I don’t know which way to turn to sort this out, to fix it.

Kylie

The Fireplace Bar is full tonight. I don’t come here often but Paris and I were out on the town, and it was pumping here. Usually, I don’t go out on Fridays with how hard I work, but I needed to get out and see my friend for a change, let down my hair, blow off some steam.

By the time we arrive at the Fireplace Bar, we’re already well on our way past the legal limit. We drank at two bars prior to this one. The crowds were dying despite the alcohol flowing freely, which was why we left.

Fireplace isn’t a club. It’s a chill bar. But they’re playing great music, and the alcohol burns through my veins. When Paris grabs me and pulls me into the middle of the dance floor with her, we both start to dance.

It’s been too long since I’ve seen Paris. She doesn’t work, so she can go out all the time, and it makes me feel left out sometimes, but she’s loyal and always willing to compromise. Her rich daddy still gives her an allowance, which funds her lifestyle and our nights out.

She’s a stunner, too. Dark hair cut into a pixie style, ice blue eyes and an athletic body. She’s the opposite of what I am. Maybe that’s why we work so well together. We don’t have the same hobbies, taste in music, food, clothes or men. It’s one of the reasons our friendship has lasted longer than most other people’s.

Only our dresses are remotely similar. Mine is black and clings to my body. Hers is blue and does the same.

“This music is awesome!” Paris shouts above the noise. She moves to the music like she’s making love to it. I can’t dance like that. I notice that all the men in the bar are staring at her, and they should. She’s sexy when she dances.

I nod and move awkwardly next to her. I’m drunk, but that doesn’t mean I can suddenly dance.

“What’s up with you?” Paris asks, leaning closer so I can hear her over the music. “You’re so distracted tonight.”

I shrug. I’ve been thinking about Wes a lot. He’s on my mind constantly, lately.

“Let’s a get a drink,” I say. “I’ll tell you about it at the bar.”

Paris nods, and we push our way through the crowd to find an open space next to the bar. I order a cocktail. Paris goes straight for the shots. When she’s paid for our drinks – Paris takes her shot. I take the other one she ordered before chasing it with my cocktail. The rooms swims around me, and I feel deliciously light and airy. All my problems are back behind the wall of alcohol, and I can enjoy myself.

“Remember I told you about my boss? Wes?” I ask.

Paris nod.

I look at my drink. “Well, I fucked him.”

I glanced up at Paris to see her reaction. She looks stunned for a moment.

“Oh. My. God.” She blinks at me. I shake my head, laughing. “Wow.”

I nod. “Yeah, wow is about right. I would use that to describe him, too.”

Paris smiles, finally digesting the information. “This is the guy who runs the company? The CEO?” I nod again, and she furrows her brow. “But your plans. I thought you wanted to—”

I shake my head to cut her off and look around. Logically, I know nobody is going to overhear us and blow my whole secret. But I’m irrationally concerned. Mostly because I’m seriously considering dumping the whole idea. Now that things are progressing well with my job and Wes has turned out to be so amazing, I feel like my old vendetta against RidgeCo is just that. Old. Not worth dragging out again when there are so many great new things I need to be focusing on. Like Wes.

“I can’t believe you did that!” she cries out, dropping the topic of my so-called revenge and returning to the crazier one of me fucking my boss. “That’s something I would do. You know, if I had a job and an insanely hot boss.”

I laugh again. Paris is the wild one. She goes home with strangers for one night stands and breaks every rule she can find. She’s all about having fun and living for the moment. One day, she’ll settle down. One day. She always says that.

“You have to tell me everything,” she says. “Is he good?”

“God, yes.” I round my mouth into an O and she laughs.

“We did it twice,” I say.

“What?”

I nod. “In his office and at his place.”

Paris is still grinning. “In his office? God, that’s dirty. And hot! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

I’m still smiling but my stomach twists. I’m still a little unsure about what we’re doing and that someone might catch us. Especially if I’m contemplating keeping my job and forgetting all the shit in the past. And Paris is right; it is dirty. I’m surprised to find out just how dirty I like it. But I don’t tell her that.

“I don’t usually do this,” I say. “But there’s something irresistible about him.”

Paris nods. “I totally get that.”

I sip my drink while Paris cross-questions me about facts. When my cocktail is done, I need to pee.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I say. Paris nods, and I leave her at the bar. I do my business, wash my hands and check my hair. I feel good that I told Paris. I’ll fill her in on the rest, later, but I needed to get that out. My head still spins a little, and I don’t look the same as I usually do when I look at myself in the mirror. Alcohol does that to you.

When I go back to the bar, Paris is talking to some guy. She gets male attention all the time. She’s flirting – I can see it from a mile away. When she spots me coming back to the bar she frantically waves at me.

“This is Brad,” she says. “Brad bought us celebratory shots.”

“Why?” I ask. “What are we celebrating?

“You!” Paris cries. “You, and your bold step to fuck your boss.”

I glance at Brad who is grinning ear to ear. He’s staring at Paris likes he wants a piece of her. He lifts his shot and nods at me. Paris does the same. I laugh and accept the shot they offer me. We throw the shots back together and slam our glasses down on the bar. Paris is drunk, and Brad only has eyes for her.

“We’re going to sit down for a bit,” Paris says to me. “Do you mind?”

I shake my head. I know she wants to make out with him. If he’s a good kisser, she’s going to go home with him. Her list of requirements isn’t all that long.

I stay at the bar and order another cocktail. I sip it, looking out at the people drinking and talking around me. Everyone looks so chilled, so happy. Am I the only one with a complicated life? Maybe not, but it feels that way sometimes.

By the time I’m done with my drink Paris still hasn’t returned. I dial her number, and she answers just before I get her voicemail.

“I left with Brad,” she says right away.

“Be safe,” I tell her and hang up. I almost expected this to happen. I push my glass away and decide to leave, too. I’m not interested in the men, here. I only have one man on my mind.

I flag a cab outside and give him Wes’s address. It’s late, almost midnight, but I don’t think he’ll mind. The cab ride is quick to his place – I’m not sure if I dozed off a little – and the driver drops me in front of Wes’s place. I make my way to the front door and ring the bell.

Wes opens not much later. He looks a little surprised.

“Kylie,” he says.

“Are you alone?” I ask, and I’m not sure why I do. I guess I just want to know that it’s safe to come in and take him.

He’s wearing only boxer shorts. I let my eyes slide down his body. His abs are defined, his skin is smooth, and he has a smattering of chest hair across his pectorals. I look down at his boxers. He’s not as hard as I like him. Yet.

That can be changed. And he’s already getting there fast.

I step into the house without being invited and wrap my arms around his body. I press myself against him, feeling the line of his body, and I feel his cock harden against me. I grind my crotch against his cock.

“Are you drunk?” he asks against my lips.

“Just lubricated,” I say.

He grins at my joke. My body responds to his immediately, and I’m wet right away. I feel myself melting into my panties.

“You look like sex on a stick,” Wes says between kisses.

I don’t answer. I don’t have anything to say. Wes doesn’t have much clothing to get rid of so I don’t start undressing him the way I was planning to when I arrived. Instead, I kneel before him and pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and eager. The tip is slick with lust. I press my lips against the tip and lick him, tasting him. He’s salty. The skin is smooth, stretched over his hardness. Silk over iron.

I take him into my mouth and Wes groans. His hands automatically go for my hair, and I bob my head, taking him into my mouth sucking him off.

“What’s gotten into you?” Wes asks.

I look up at him, my mouth still around his cock. I let him go just long enough to answer.

“Hopefully in the next couple of minutes, you.”

I don’t give him much time to digest my joke before taking him into my mouth again. I hum while I suck him off, sending vibrations into his cock and he moans.

“God, Kylie, I’m going to come if you do that.”

I keep doing it because I don’t care. Let him come. I keep bobbing my head, fucking him with my mouth. I want him to shoot his load down my throat.

He pulls out at the last minute, and I look up at him, pouting.

“Don’t do that, baby. Don’t pout,” he says. “I just makes me want to fuck your mouth that much more.”

He pulls me up and against him. His cock presses against me and I want it inside of me.

Wes reaches for my dress and pulls it up, peeling it off my body. I stand in front of him in the black lace underwear ensemble I chose to wear tonight. He stares at me like he’s drinking me in with his eyes.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he says. He steps closer to me. One hand goes around my waist, the other to my pussy. He cups me over the material of the thong I’m wearing. I know I’ve soaked through my panties. He rubs me through the material, and I moan.

He moves his other hand around as he rubs my breast through my bra as well. My nipples are erect, and he pinches one, pulling, never moving my bra. He’s teasing me, and I love it, and I hate it, all at the same time.

I’m breathing hard, gasping. The mixture of alcohol and Wes makes me so horny I feel like I will spontaneously combust.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I say to him.

“Why?”

He’s asking me just to hear me say it. I’ll say it if that’s what he wants. I’m not shy, tonight.

“Because I want to fuck you.”

His face changes, hunger dominating his features. He pulls me against him, hard, his hand groping me roughly. He pulls the bra away and pinches my nipple. His other hand finds its way under my thong, and he pushes two fingers into my entrance without warning. I cry out because it’s exactly what I need.

He finger fucks me for all of two seconds before he lets me go again. He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. I follow him, feeling like a porn star walking there in lace underwear and high heels.

In the bedroom, Wes turns around. He strips himself of the boxers, and his cock seems bigger than before. He helps me get rid of my underwear, and I step out of the heels before he takes me to the bed. He pushes me so that I lie down, and he dives between my legs.

Wes

Eating Kylie out is one of my favorite things. She tastes like heaven. Heaven and sex. Her pussy is small, and when I stick my tongue into her, she’s so wet. I lick along the length of her slit, flicking my tongue across her clit and she writhes on the bed.

She’s naked, and I run my hands over her body while her sex is pressed into my mouth and her legs are over my shoulders.

I didn’t expect her to come over, tonight. I’m not at all upset that she did. I was ready to go to bed when she appeared like a vision in a tight black dress and a hell of a lot of sex appeal. Stripping that dress off her body was one of the most delicious things I’ve done. Everything with her, though, is fucking fantastic.

I work my tongue over her clit, alternating licking with sucking but I don’t want her to come. Not yet. I want to deny her an orgasm until she’s so close to exploding that it becomes sensational. I listen to how she sounds, her gasping and moaning, I feel her body contract beneath me, and I know when I should let up.

The third time I stop her from coming she whimpers in protest, but I have other things in mind for her. I grab hold of her hips and flip her onto her stomach. I pull her up so that her ass points at me and get onto the bed behind her. It doesn’t take a lot of guidance to get my cock to her entrance, and I push into her.

She cries out. I pull out and do it again, a little harder this time. I love it when she cries out. Her moans are sexy as fuck, and I want her to scream for me.

I hold her steady with my hands on her hips and start fucking her, hard. I slam into her and pull out again, pushing myself into her as deep as I’ll go. Her body rocks back and forth. Her chest is on the mattress so that her body is at an angle and she has the covers gripped in both fists. She cries out every time I slam into her, and I love the sound.

My balls slap against her clit as I go faster and faster. The bed bangs against the wall and the sounds of sex fills the room.

I keep going until I’m getting close to release myself. I don’t want to do that just yet. I slow the pace down and stroke slowly in and out of her. I move my hands to her ass, squeezing her ass cheeks, massaging her while I slowly fuck her. She’s tight. Wet, but tight, and sliding in and out of her feels so good. I run my hand up her back and back down again. Her breathing is heavy. Her head is turned, and I lean to the side to see her eyes are closed. She’s lost in our sex, and I love it.

She came here drunk. Drunk Kylie isn’t shy. She’s horny and shows me exactly what she wants. I love that she came here in her drunken state. She could have gone anywhere. I must have been on her mind, and that makes me happy.

I start moving in and out of her again, pounding harder and harder. Kylie pushes herself up, bracing herself on her arms now. Her head is tipped back, and I reach for her hair. I push my hands into the stuff, right up against her scalp, and close my fist so that I’m holding her. I pull back just enough that she can’t move, but I know I’m not hurting her. At this angle, her back is arched. I know her tits are pushed out on display and half of me wishes I had a mirror to see what she looks like from the front.

I start fucking her hard, using her hair as a handle. My other hand is on her hip again, and I slam into her.

She’s getting closer. I can hear it in her breathing, her moaning. I’ve figured out that she likes it rough, likes to be dominated a little, and me holding her hair was what’s bringing her this close to the edge so quickly.

“Don’t come until I say you can,” I command. She whimpers. I know she’s close so I slow my pace down again. I’m going to do this as long as either of us can hold out. I love denying her orgasms, but when I deny her, I deny myself, too. I’m not just teasing her.

I keep stroking in and out of her, holding onto her hair, holding her in place. I slide my cock in and out of her, slowly, feeling every inch of her. She’s so tight and so wet, and everything about her is so damn hot. I want to come all over her body.

I let go of her hair and reach around her body for her tits, leaning over her. I’m curled around her body, a tit in each hand. I squeeze her and rub her nipples. She moans and cries out, and she’s vocal.

She’s getting close again. Her body shudders below mine.

“No,” I say and let go of her tits, pulling out of her. She gasps and drops her head like she’s sulking.

“Turn around,” I say, and she does as I ask. She’s on her back, and I crawl over her. Her thighs fall open for me, and I push into her entrance with ease. She cries out, and I’m on top of her, fucking her missionary, now. Her eyes are closed, her mouth open, head tipped back a little. Her tits sway back and forth as I fuck her, rocking her body back and forth on the bed. I push two fingers into her mouth, and she closes her lips around me, sucking on my fingers like she sucks on my cock. She moans through her nose, sucking on me and it’s turning her on.

I’m getting closer again, too. Fuck, tonight is going to be a lot of push and pull.

I fuck her harder and harder, removing my hand so that I can brace myself, and she cries out with every stroke. In this position, she’s not going to come, not yet. I can keep going like this for a while.

I love how she moans when I fuck her. I love hammering into her and watching her face go slack, her eyes daze over, her lips part. She gasps and moans, filling the room with echoes of her lust and it’s beautiful and sexy.

I keep pounding into her and I know she’s not going to come like this – I’m drawing it out and building it, making it worse, but it won’t push her over the edge. I, on the other hand, am getting closer and closer, and if I don’t do something soon to break the flow of what we’re doing, I’m going to release inside of her.

I can’t think of anything more satisfying than a good orgasm right now, but I don’t want this to end, yet. I’m having too much fun watching her, seeing her come undone at the seams and knowing I am the reason for it.

When I’m getting too close, I pull out. She pouts up at me. Her legs are spread wide, her pussy on display, and her lips are swollen and glistening with our sex. I lift one of her legs, wrapping my hand around her calf, and then the other. I hold them up so that her feet are on either side of my face, her legs perpendicular to her body. Her lips are parted, and she’s breathing hard. Her body is flush, skin blossoming pink on her tits.

“You’re so sexy,” I say to her. She smiles at me, opening her mouth to say something. I don’t let her speak. I pull against her legs, using her as leverage and slam into her again. She gasps and moans instead with her mouth still open. I slam into her again and again, and she gasps and moans. The sound of our sex is the only thing in the room, flesh slapping against flesh and the squelch of our sex as I ram into her with my cock. She moans and cries out, and I grunt, and the sounds are hot as hell.

I watch her tits. They move back and forth, swaying on her chest as I rock her body back and forth. Her tits are large, the nipples dark and tight. I want to grab them, squeeze them, but I’m holding onto her legs.

As if she knows, she reaches up and touches her own tits. She tugs at the nipples so the flesh pulls into a point. She rolls the nipples between her fingers and her moans intensify.

“That’s it, baby,” I say. “Touch yourself.”

She closes her eyes and does as I ask. She grabs handfuls of her own tits and massages them. Her face becomes a little more orgasmic, and it’s hot as hell to see her touching herself. She gives herself over to it completely when she loves herself, the way I feel a woman should. Knowing what you like during sex makes it easier to tell someone else. And Kylie has explored herself before this. I’m sure she knows exactly what she likes.

“Rub your clit while I fuck you,” I command.

She doesn’t wait for me to ask her twice. With one hand still on her tit, tugging at her nipple, kneading the fleshy mound, she slides her other hand over her abdomen until her hand is between her legs. She pushes her fingers into her slit. She touches the base of my cock where I’m sliding in and out of her to wet her fingers a little, and I shiver when she does.

When she touches her clit, she moans and closes her eyes. She gasps, her face changing. Her mouth opens more, wide enough that I can push my cock in there if I want to. She gasps, and her cries become more intense.

I look down at her pussy, and her fingers are working her clit in tight little circles, moving in the same rhythm as my pumping into her. Her breathing becomes faster, shallower, erratic. I pump harder and harder.

She cries out, and her body rocks back and forth on the bed, the tit that she’s not squeezing and massaging rocking with it. Her eyes are closed, her face is erotic, and I know she’s caught up in a world where the only thing that matters is what I’m doing to her with my cock and the pleasure she’s getting from it.

Her gasps become cries. Every time I thrust into her, she cries out, louder and louder. I can feel her walls clamp down on me. She gets tighter and tighter. I must hold back not to explode inside of her and cut this whole thing short.

A moment later, she topples over the edge. She screams and squeezes her eyes shut. Her fingers close around her tit, fingers digging into her skin. She closes her legs, bending her knees, curling into herself and I feel her body contract around my cock.

It’s so hot I stop moving to keep control of myself. Her body spasms, and she cries out, moaning. She turns her face to the side, and her long hair somehow falls over her face so that she looks like a hot mess.

For a moment, she stops breathing. Then she gasps, and she gulps down air.

“Oh, Wes,” she says. “That was intense.”

I grin at her. “Hot as fuck,” I say.

She looks at me with a shy smile. I still have my cock inside her, but neither of us is moving.

“How about a shower?” I ask.

She blinks at me. “Now?”

I nod and slowly pull out of her. She’s so tight her body holds onto me, begging me to stay inside. For a moment, I consider it. But I want her wet and slippery in my shower.

Kylie

Wes gets off me, and I want to protest because I want him back inside me. I want him to fuck me long and hard until I come and he comes. Sex with him is mind-blowing every time. Which is why I let him stop and get off the bed. He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, letting him help me up.

We’ve fucked often enough for me to know that unless he finishes as well, we’re not done, and he’s going to give a hell of a lot more to me.

I can’t wait. He can do whatever he wants to me.

Wes leads me into his bathroom. It’s a large bathroom with a jet tub in the corner, the faucet’s gold and I wonder if it’s real. A large mirror stretches across the wall to the right of the door with little lights built in, and it reminds me of a dressing room but much classier. The lights turn on automatically when the door opens. There are his and hers sinks even though Wes lives alone.

The whole bathroom is decorated in beige and white with large marble tiles and big fluffy towels. It’s the kind of place you want to spend the entire day in relaxing.

Opposite the mirror, a shower takes up one side of the bathroom. A glass wall with entrances on both sides blocks the shower from the rest of the bathroom, and it’s so clean you can barely see it. The tiles slope in the shower to a drain in the middle but it’s like a grid on the floor and not painful to stand on, I’m sure.

Wes turns on the water, and the shower head is large and square so that the water falls like rain. Compared to my little shower at home, showering in this every day must be pure heaven.

I sit down on the edge of the tub, my legs weak. My body feels hot, open, ready for more. I want Wes to take me. I always want him to take me, but more so with him naked and the water running and the promise of more sex. But my body also feels tired, well spent. An orgasm takes a lot out of me but Wes has a way of holding me on the edge every time, and I’m particularly drained when he’s done with me.

Which is delicious, but I need time to recover when he’s had me under his body for a while.

Wes comes to me after he makes sure the water temperature is right. He bends over and kisses me. His hand reaches between my legs, and I spread them for him automatically. When he presses his fingers into my slit and touches my clit, I shudder. I’m sensitive after my orgasm. Wes kisses me passionately, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting me, exploring me.

His fingers move around my clit in slow circles. The pleasure is greater than the discomfort, and I sigh against his mouth. Echoes of the orgasm course through me, making my muscles jerk lightly. Wes smiles through his kisses. He loves it when I respond like this when a touch of his fingers brings this reaction from me.

I’m inching closer and closer to an orgasm again. It won’t happen right away, but if he keeps at it like this, I’ll come again.

Of course, it isn’t Wes’s style to be this tame, and he doesn’t do it for much longer. He lets me go abruptly and straightens up. He takes my hand and pulls me up with him, leading me into the shower.

We step under the water, and it runs through my hair and over my body. The heat is absolute bliss, and I tip my head back so that my hair washes out of my face. When I look at Wes, his eyes are on me, and they’re hungry. He’s a sight, standing there with his muscular body, his cock thick and swollen and slick. His eyes slide over my body, and he steps closer to me. His hands go to my hips, and he pulls me against him so that his erection presses against my lower abdomen. He kisses me again, and he tastes like hot water and lust.

I put my arms around his neck. He guides me backward until my back is against the shower walls. I gasp, the tiles cold against my back and ass. Wes’s body is still halfway under the spray and the hot water leaks onto my body, a great contrast against the cold at my back.

Wes reaches down, lifting my leg with his hand on my thigh. He pulls it up and to the side so that I’m splayed open for him. I help him guide his cock to my entrance, and he pushes into me. I gasp as he slides into me. I’m tight and as sensitive as my clit is.

Wes groans when he pushes into me. His hand grips my thigh hard, and I brace myself with one hand on his hip and another on his shoulder. He starts pushing into me, pulling out, pushing in again. His eyes find mine for a moment. He picks up his pace, making eye contact while he fucks me harder and harder. I cry out, moaning as he nails me against the wall again and again. His cock is thick, and I’m hyper-aware of the feel of his body, his cock inside me, his hand on my leg. He leans closer with his body, so his chest is against mine, his face next to mine. I press my cheek against his.

Another orgasm starts building deep inside of me, at my core. I gasp and moan as he brings me closer to the edge with every stroke. He’s fucking me harder and harder. I’m gasping and moaning in his ear, and I know it’s turning him on because his breathing changes to match mine – shallow and erratic.

After a while, he slows down and finally pulls out of me. He lets go of my leg, and I lower it again so I can stand. He takes soap from the holder on the side and squirts some into his hand. He rubs it together to create a lather before he puts his hands on me.

Wes runs his hands all over my body, over my tits, my hips, my stomach, tracing the contours of my body until I’m slippery. His pupils are dilated, lips parted, and I can see what it’s doing to him, lathering me up like this.

It’s so hot. There’s something about being this slippery that’s wildly sexual.

Wes pulls me against him and moves his body, sliding himself all over me. We become a slippery mess as he presses me against the wall again. He slides his body over mine, rubbing himself against me. My nipples are hard, and my pussy is throbbing.

Wes reaches toward the soap container again and retrieves a handheld showerhead I haven’t even noticed. He turns it on and slowly starts rinsing me off, careful not to get the spray in my face. He runs the spray over my body, washing away the soap, using his hand to clean me. He moves lower and lower. With his hand, he urges me to widen my stance, and I do, opening my legs as wide as I can without slipping on the wet tiles.

He moves the spray between my legs and changes the setting on the head so that it becomes a pulsing massage.

The moment the water hits my clit I gasp. The sensation is so different from his mouth or his fingers. It’s hard and gentle, all at the same time. I shiver because it’s just this side of uncomfortable, but it’s so good. I close my eyes and tip my head back.

Wes puts his hand behind my neck and pulls me into a kiss. He holds me, pushing his tongue into my mouth and I’m balanced between his hand and mouth and the spray in my pussy.

He rolls the massaging water over my clit, toward my entrance and back again. The experience is something I’ve never felt before. I’ve fantasized about doing something like this for a long time and oh, my God, it feels a hundred times better than I could have imagined it.

My eyes are closed, and I’ve given myself over to the feeling. I need to focus on keeping my balance, but Wes is pressed up against me as much as he can be, his body against me where it still leaves room for him to play with the shower head. His body helps me to keep my balance a little.

The orgasm starts deep inside me, and I can feel it spreading through my body, slowly, reaching for my core and clenching tightly. A moment later I tip over the edge, and it washes through me, heat spilling over my body. I cry out, my breath forced out of my body as my muscles contract and my body shivers. I lean into Wes, and he moves his hand down to my back to hold me up. My face is in the water, and I must breathe carefully not to choke on it, but the orgasm rocks through my body and I’m not even thinking about survival right now.

Wes kisses me when the orgasm is almost over. When I can think clearly again his tongue is deep in my mouth, probing, pumping, the way he does it with his cock when he fucks me. The spray is pressed up right against my pussy, and I jerk, suddenly impossibly sensitive.

“Okay, okay,” I say, breaking the kiss and he knows what I mean. He removes the spray, turns it off and puts the handheld showerhead away again. I lean against the wall, breathing hard. I haven’t fully recovered yet when Wes is in front of me again in one long stride. He cups my cheeks in both his hands and kisses me hard. He leans against me, his body pinning me to the wall again. I shudder.

His hand slides down my neck, over my tit where he tweaks my nipple before moving down, over my abdomen and onto my hip.

With his hand on my hip, he spins me around so that I’m suddenly facing the wall and he’s at my back. I feel the spray of the shower where the water bounces off his skin, the droplets cool by the time they hit me.

Wes pulls me back a little with his hands on my hips. My hands are against the wall, my tits almost pushed up against it and my ass points to him, my back arched.

He puts his hands between my legs for just a moment, finding my entrance before his fingers are replaced by his cock. He pushes into me, and I cry out. I’m so sensitive, now. Sensitive and ready for more.

He’s so thick and long when he pushes into me I must be tighter than I thought after coming. He pushes into me and pulls out. The bit of discomfort after being so sensitive translates into pleasure as he fucks me, stroking in and out of me faster and faster. My orgasm comes back, echoing through my body and I moan loudly. My moans and whimpers border on screams, and it’s like it fuels Wes to fuck me harder and harder.

He suddenly shoves into me, burying deep inside me and he groans loudly as I feel him release, pumping into me. My orgasm repeats itself, and it’s even more intense than before. It shatters through me, and I scream. I fall apart and its only Wes’s hands and his cock inside me that stops me from collapsing completely. He pumps inside me, emptying himself out. We’re breathing hard, moaning, and the sound of the shower rains down around us.

Finally, after what feels like forever, my orgasm fades away. I hang my head, bracing myself against the wall with my hands and my wet hair falls over my shoulders.

Wes pulls out of me, and I gasp as he does. I straighten up, let the water wash my hair back to where it belongs. I run my hands over my tender body, between my legs, washing away everything that comes out again after he released inside me. When I’m clean, Wes turns it off. He steps out of the shower first and hands me a towel I wrap around my body. He hands me another for my hair – who says men are inconsiderate? – and I wrap it around my head.

He steps closer to me and kisses me. “I’ll be right back,” he says. “I’m just locking up the house.”

He disappears, and I proceed to dry myself off, blowing out my hair with a hairdryer I find in that looks like it’s never been used.

When Wes comes back my hair is dry enough. Wes heads for the bed. I realize he hasn’t asked if I want to stay. I would have stayed, either way. It’s not sentimental. It’s much too late to leave now. I get under the covers next to Wes, and he pulls me against him.

His body is warm, his dark hair slightly damp. This is not emotional, I remind myself. It’s practical.

Wes

I open my eyes and stretch. The room is dim, the sun filtering through my drawn blinds. My body feels great – a little sore the way good sex makes it feel and an echo of Kylie’s body on my cock.

I turn my head. Kylie lies on her side, bare back to me, hair splayed on the pillow. She’s still here, in my bed. She spent the night.

I watch her body rise and fall with her rhythmic breathing.

The last time I had a woman in my bed when I woke up in the morning, it was when I was still dating my ex-fiancée. Since she left me standing at the altar, wondering what the hell I did wrong, I don’t let women stay over. I fuck them, yes, but they have to leave after that. Sleeping next to them, spooning and cuddling and all that romantic shit is too close for comfort. When you let someone in you can get hurt, and I don’t have much of a heart left to be broken.

Melodramatic? Maybe. But I thought Marisa was the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I had given up the idea of sleeping around, of being charming and irresistible because Marisa had been the one. She was the one I had wanted to build a future with, the one I defined love by.

When I asked her to marry me, she didn’t hesitate. We were the happiest couple in the world. Both our parents were delirious about it when we told them. We had engagement parties and kitchen teas and parties that followed the protocol for getting married.

We did everything by the book, and by God, I loved her. When she wasn’t staying at my place, I was staying at hers. We didn’t live together before we got married, but we dreamed about the day we were going to share a space we could call our own.

On the day of the wedding, everything started out according to schedule. It was a big wedding, over three hundred guests, and it had been planned for a year. I stood at the front of the chapel, my entourage with me for support. We waited for her to come to me so that I could confess my everlasting love to her and prove it by making her my wife.

And she never came.

The bitch left me at the altar with no idea why. She didn’t once let me know something was wrong. I didn’t once doubt that we were going to go through with it.

In the blink of an eye, everything was over, and my life changed.

Since then, I only fuck women. I don’t fall in love with them. I don’t let them stay over.

This was an exception, and I expect to feel horrible about it. I wait for that feeling to pop up – the one where I want to wake Kylie up and ask her to leave.

It doesn’t come. I don’t mind that she’s in my bed. I don’t mind that she stayed over. Kylie is the type of person that I understand. I know what we are to each other and what we’re doing and that’s all that matters here.

And I’m not unhappy about it.

I get into the shower and let the hot water cascade over my body. I get flashbacks of what we did here – her body with droplets running over her skin, her pussy on display to me and her wet hair clinging to her cheeks. I close my eyes and shudder. My cock hardens again from thinking about her.

When I reach for the soap, I rub it over my body, creating a white lather. I slide my hands over my body, washing the sex from me. I cup my balls and slide my hand over my hard cock, but I don’t do anything more than just clean. I don’t want to jack myself off in here when she’s asleep on the other side of the door.

I don’t know why I want to respect her like that, but I want to.

I rinse the soap off and get out of the shower. With a towel wrapped around my hips, I walk into the bedroom again. Kylie is awake, her sheets pulled over her chest in a semblance of modesty and her liquid brown eyes are turned to me.

“Morning, sexy,” I say to her. Her mouth curls up into a smile. “How did you sleep?”

She nods. “Alright, thank you. Not a lot.”

I chuckle. We were at it until the early hours of the morning.

“What about some breakfast?” I ask. “We can go out and get something to eat.”

Kylie hesitates before she answers. “Is that really a good idea?” she asks. “I don’t think we should be seen in public together. Leon is already making life difficult for us.”

I nod. She’s right. We can’t go out together. There’s no way I would be able to keep my hands off her today if we do. Having her in my bed, naked, her hair a testament to how wild our night was and me knowing exactly what lay between those sheets I want to be all over her again. And there is no reason the two of us would be seeing each other on a Sunday morning for business.

“Let me go get something, then,” I say.

She smiles, unsure. “You want me to stay?”

I shrug. I know what she’s asking. She’s as unsure about spending the night as I was.

“We both have to eat, right? Might as well eat something together before we go our separate ways.”

She nods, apparently satisfied. I walk to my closet and find clothes to put on – khaki pants and a white polo shirt. I pull Italian loafers onto my feet and walk to the bed.

I kiss Kylie on the forehead before I leave the room.

Tartine Bakery is my favorite place to go – aside from the usual, they have French pastries, bread and sandwiches. It opens at eight on Sunday mornings, and I arrive just after opening time.

When I step in through the door, someone calls to me.

“Wes,” I hear, and when I turn, Leon is standing at the display case where they’re filling it up with freshly baked rolls.

“Hello,” I say. He’s the last person I want to see today – I’m in a good mood, and I don’t want it spoiled – but I can’t avoid Leon since he is an employee so I have to try to be pleasant.

“What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “Probably the same thing you are,” I say. I look at the rolls as they lay them out. The delicious aroma hangs in the room, and I can almost taste them it smells so good.

“I heard about this place from a friend,” Leon says. “I thought it would be nice to get Martha something.”

I nod. “I come here all the time. They have a great selection.”

We stand side by side, and the conversation is strained. Yes, I’ve known him the longest of all my employees, and I see him every day. But we’re not friends, and I know very little about his life other than what he shares in the office. I don’t have all that much to say to the man.

“My son said he comes here often, too.”

I nod. I remember he has a son.

“Of course, he’s not going to come here, today. He’s been out partying all night. He only came in at the crack of dawn.”

I chuckle, not knowing what to say.

“I think it’s good not to have your kids on too tight a leash,” Leon says. “Brad can talk to me about everything.”

I nod again. I don’t know what to say. I don’t really care about his son, but I must listen politely until he decides what he wants.

“Can I help you?” the woman behind the display case asks

“Four croissants, two eclairs and two coffees, please,” I say.

Leon looks at me. “Do you have company?” he asks.

I smile politely at him. “It’s Sunday. Don’t we all spend time with friends and family?” Who I’m entertaining is none of his business, even if it is someone I don’t care Leon knowing about.

Leon nods. “You should hear some of the things that Brad tells me about. He’s always meeting women in the bars he goes to. They’re always so eager to tell him their life stories. It’s so easy to talk to someone when they’re probably never going to see each other again.”

The woman behind the counter is taking too long to put together my order. I want to leave.

“Really?” I say. “It sounds like Brad really gets around.”

Leon shrugs. “He’s a man. Don’t we all go through a phase at one point? I remember what it was like before Martha. And I’m sure you’re on top of it all, too.”

I don’t like when he talks to me like this, but we’re not in the office. I may be his boss from nine to five on weekdays but I’m not sure how it works outside the office, and the man is just making small talk. I don’t have a good enough reason to tell him he’s overstepping the line because I’m not sure where it is, now.

So, I shrug, too, trying to look nonchalant. “I do know what it’s like,” I finally say. “But I don’t have the liberty to discuss any of it with my father.”

Leon laughs. He knows my dad. Wesley Wagner Sr. is good friends with Charles Hendricks, the owner of RidgeCo. It’s how I got to be CEO. And I know for a fact that I will never tell my father about any of the women I see.

“Well, we all have different relationships with our fathers,” Leon says. “I prefer he tells me what he’s doing so that I can give him advice when he takes a wrong turn or sees the wrong woman. You of all people can understand how badly it can blow up in your face if you’re fucking the wrong woman.”

Leon grins. I narrow my eyes at him. It sounds to me like he’s looking for trouble but I don’t know what to do about it. He’s having this conversation with me for a reason – Leon has an agenda – but I can’t call him out on it without looking guilty. So, I politely nod and smile.

The woman behind the counter hands me my order. I walk toward the cash register and produce my card. Leon follows me.

Leon carries on, “He slept with a woman last night that apparently wouldn’t stop bragging about how much game her friend has.”

“She didn’t brag about herself?” I ask, not really paying attention. I don’t care about this woman his son apparently slept with. The card machine is slow – just my fucking luck – and the transaction declines. She swipes it again, and I am anxious to get away from here.

“Yeah, it is interesting,” Leon says. “This friend apparently fucks her boss.”

I snap to attention when he says that. When I look at him, his eyes bore into mine, and he looks smug.

“Well, I guess morals vary from person to person,” I say, and I chuckle. I must be very careful about what I say next. I’m starting to panic. The card machine is working against me, and I feel like the bakery is suddenly too small for the two of us.

“I know who Brad’s talking about,” Leon says.

I don’t respond. What am I going to say?

“He’s talking about Kylie.”

When I glance up at him, I try to keep it as light as I can. I make sure I’m smiling, at least.

“Don’t be ridiculous, man. You heard from your son who heard from a one-night stand who heard from a friend? It sounds like everyone has been drinking too much.”

The card finally goes through, and I’m relieved. I take it from the woman and put it in my wallet.

“I have to get going,” I say to Leon. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow. Send my regards to Martha.”

I turn around. Leon calls after me, but I don’t want to talk to him anymore. I can’t keep a smile on my face for that long when I’m everything but happy. I’m starting to panic. There’s no way Leon could know. His source is terrible. And he’s pissing me off. I can’t believe he won’t let this go. It’s like he has something against Kylie personally, which is not only unfair toward her but it’s making my life more difficult, too.

When I finally get back, Kylie is wearing one of my shirts and nothing else. She’s hot as hell but my mood has evaporated.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, tugging at the shirt.

I think I should take her into the bedroom and fuck her brains out, but I don’t. I shake my head and walk through to the kitchen. “Help yourself,” I say. Kylie follows me.

I start unpacking the food, putting it on plates.

“Oh, a French breakfast,” Kylie says behind me. I don’t respond. After a while, she asks, “is something wrong?”

I sigh and turn away from the food that I started putting on plates.

“I ran into Leon in the bakery,” I say.

Kylie’s face falls right away. She might not know what I’m going to say, but I know she has an idea.

“And?” she asks.

I take a deep breath and tell her what Leon said. She listens before she closes her eyes and blows out a long breath.

“Tell me you weren’t with one of your friends last night before you came here,” I say.

Kylie opens her eyes again. “I wish I could. I was with Paris. We went to a bar, and she met a guy named Brad. I did tell her.”

She swallows hard and looks apologetic. I’m suddenly angry.

“I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone,” I say. “I thought you would keep it a secret, too.”

“I tell Paris everything. She’s my best friend, and she would never do anything to harm me,” she says. She sounds apologetic. I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten in my head. When I open them again, Kylie is chewing her bottom lip, and it makes her look extremely young. I am angry with her for talking about it, but fighting with her now will be pointless. Yes, she fucked up, but now we need to get ourselves out of this mess. But first, something that has nagged at the back of my brain refuses to be ignored any longer. I have to know.

“Kylie, I have to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me.”

I can almost see the shields go up. “What is it, Wes?” she asks carefully.

I drag my hand through my hair and huff out a breath. “I know your plan.”

She freezes. “Plan?”

I almost feel bad bringing it up. But I can’t deny any longer how much I crave her. I don’t want to give her up. And if we’re going to risk breaking the no fraternizing rule, I have to be completely sure about her.

“Are you only fucking me to try to take me down? As part of your plan to fuck over RidgeCo?”

Kylie gasps. She looks stricken. “What? How? Who?” She stops and draws a deep breath. “I mean, where did you hear about this?”

I walk toward her and grab her hands. “It doesn’t matter, babe. I just need to know the truth.”

She shakes her head, but that doesn’t tell me anything.

“Look, I know I should be mad that you’ve had this plan all along. But I just can’t. Partially because I had my own plan to take you down first.”

“You what?” she interrupts, her agitation turning toward anger.

I hold up my palms. “Hang on. Hear me out. I never got around to that. Because the minute you started working for you, you consumed every thought I had. Yeah, I originally wanted to get the upper hand and have the luxury of firing you and making sure you never worked in the tech industry again—”

“If this is your way of explaining what’s going on,” she says, shaking, “you’re doing a really shitty job.”

She’s right. I’m massively failing at this. I run my hand over my jaw and try again. “Look, Kylie. None of that matters. That’s not what I’m about anymore. All the time we’ve spent together has shown me that if you were planning on doing something, you must have had a good reason. But I also don’t believe you’re going to go through with it. And I have no desire to go through with my plans. I just want to be with you. However that has to happen.”

Her eyes soften. “Really?” She sounds like it’s too good to be true.

“Really. But please tell me the truth. Is sleeping with me all part of your plan to make me lose my job and take RidgeCo away from me?”

She shakes her head emphatically, and I believe her just like that. “It was never part of my plan. And you’re right, Wes. I don’t care about any of that anymore. Things have changed for me.” She looks down shyly, not meeting my eyes. “Because of you.”

I smile and reach out to tilt her head up so she has to look at me. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear. So now we have to figure out a way to fix this problem with Leon.”

“What are we going to do?” she asks.

I shake my head. “There’s nothing we can do about Leon knowing what he knows. Brad is his son, and that’s not something we can change. But he has no proof. It’s gossip and rumors, and that will never hold up if we keep our slates clean. We’ll just have to be more careful. Even more so than we already are.”

“You’re not mad?” she asks. Her arms are folded over her chest, outlining her naked breasts through the thin material of the t-shirt. She leans against a counter with her ass.

“I won’t lie. I was furious,” I admit, and she flinches. “But I don’t need to tell you that you made a mistake and we can’t change what happened. So instead of losing my temper like Leon does, we’ll just have to figure it out.”

She swallows and nods.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

I shake my head, but I don’t tell her not to be, or that it’s okay because it’s not. We may have removed the obstacle of her potential subterfuge, but Leon is still a very real threat to both of our futures at the company.

“We need to be more careful at work.”

“Like not talk at all?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, that would be weird. We’re working together. If you’re going out of your way to avoid me that might look just as suspicious.”

Kylie nods. “That makes sense.”

“So, we’re going to talk about work and work-related things only, and not speak otherwise unless the situation demands it. And we can’t be alone. Ever.”

“Not even for meetings?”

I shake my head. “No, not even for meetings. Or mentoring.”

She nods. “You don’t just want to end this?”

I walk to her. When I’m in front of her, she looks up at me. Her hair hangs in her face, and I push it out of the way before I cup her cheek.

“No, Kylie. I don’t want to end this. I still want you. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever been with. I don’t want to stop any of this.”

Her lips curl into a smile.

“Okay,” she says. “We’ll be super cautious. Because I don’t want this to end, either.”

I don’t want a relationship, and I don’t think that it came across that way. But I want to keep seeing her. When I’m with her, I feel like a real man. When I’m with her, everything feels different. Not to mention, sex with her is the best sex I’ve had in my life.

We have breakfast together before Kylie gets dressed to leave. She’s wearing the little black dress she was wearing last night. I kiss her at the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.

“Seeing you and pretending like there’s nothing between us is going to be torture,” she says.

I nod. “It will be. But just imagine how much better it will be when we get to see each other again.”

She smiles and nods before she turns away, and I close the door behind her.

Kylie

When Monday morning rolls around, and I’m back in the office, everything goes back to normal. Mostly.

I still can’t get Wes out of my mind, and I swear I can still feel him between my legs, all over my body, in my mouth. I do my best to push away the thoughts. I have a meeting with Leon, Clive and the rest of the team and I must be on top of my game. Leon is looking for any reason to make trouble, and I can’t afford to give him any ammo.

I can’t believe Wes knew about my plans all along. And that he was gunning for me too in the beginning. But I’m so relieved that my secret’s out. It was starting to weigh on me. And now I know that everything that’s happened between us has been real. No games or false pretenses. It’s a relief. If only we can find a way to continue without putting our jobs at risk because I’m really loving this new job, way more than I ever expected.

When I walk into the meeting room, most of my team has already arrived. Tanya nods encouragingly at me, even though I’m a lot more comfortable now that I’m a bit more settled in my new position. I think she will always be the mothering type.

Leon comes in last and glowers at me. I try to ignore him, but it makes me stressed all the same.

He joins me in the front of the room and then my presentation starts. I run through a summary of what we’ve managed so far and then I put my ideas on display. I am proud of what I’ve done. Being a project manager allows me so much freedom, and I get to use my creative side, which I love. Being a receptionist was a complete snore in comparison. Everyone seems enthusiastic about it except Leon.

Surprise, surprise.

He stands next to me biting his tongue, looking sour.

“That’s pretty much what we have so far,” I say when I wrap up. “Any questions or something you would like to add?” I ask and look around the room. They all shake their heads. My team seems happy.

“Well, that’s it, then,” I say. “Thanks, everyone.”

They get up and start filing out. The meeting room clears bit by bit. I stack my papers and files and pick them up, ready to return to my own desk.

“Miss Jordan,” Leon says. “Stay behind, please.”

I don’t like when he talks to me like that. He’s ordering me to stay when he could have asked, and I would have said yes. But I do as he asks. I put down my papers and files again and turn to look at him.

Leon waits until everyone else has left the meeting room. I don’t like being alone in a room with him – he doesn’t like me, and I feel uncomfortable around him.

“That was quite a performance today,” Leon says.

“Thank you.” I’m not sure if it’s a compliment, but I’ll treat it as one.

“It seems like a lot of work for a career that’s going down the drain, anyway.”

I frown. “That’s a very pessimistic outlook,” I say. I don’t want to respect him after how he’s been treating me, but I must. I don’t like the way he talks to me, I don’t like the way he acts like I can’t do anything for myself.

“I’ve been around for a while,” Leon says. “I can see when people aren’t going places, and you’re not going anywhere.”

I’m getting angry. “What is your problem with me?” I ask. “I have done nothing to you.”

Leon laughs. “Of course, you have.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shakes his head, a smile still on his face but it’s not a friendly one.

“I know women like you,” he says. “All too well. You use your looks to get where you want to be in life. You don’t need to do anything other than look pretty and the world fawns at your feet when people like me have to work every day of our life. And then you come in and use sex and end up ruining lives.”

What the fuck? Leon has seriously lost it.

“I’ve been working hard,” I say. If this is some sexist bullshit, I’m not going to stand here listening to this.

“Yeah, you have. Working real hard on sleeping with Wes Wagner.”

My blood runs cold, but I don’t show the shock on my face. I have a damn good poker face. I just blink at Leon.

“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information from,” I say when he just stands there, grinning at me like a fool. “But I can assure you it’s wrong.”

“Really? Does the word Paris mean anything to you?”

My stomach turns to stone. If she said something to Leon – how on earth would she do that – then I’m fucked.

“The city?” I ask, playing dumb.

Leon rolls his eyes, irritated.

“Don’t be a little snip,” he sneers at me. “I mean the person. Your friend? She bragged to Bradley all night long about how her best friend is fucking her boss.”

“Who’s Bradley?” I ask.

Leon scowls. “Your dumb-blonde routine isn’t going to get you out of this,” he says. I don’t bother correcting him that my hair is light brown, not blonde. “He’s my son.”

It still doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know why someone would talk to their dad about who they’re sleeping with, but to each his own, I guess. He knows enough that his facts are accurate if he knows Paris’s name. But I’m not going to let him know that.

“Well, maybe she was talking about another friend. Did she give him a name?”

Leon doesn’t respond, which is a no.

“Paris has a lot of friends, not just me,” I continue. “I’m pretty sure all of her friends have bosses.”

Leon pulls back his lips, baring his teeth in a weirdly animalistic gesture.

“You’re lying,” he snarls at me.

“It’s your word against mine, at this point.”

“Wes ran away when I asked him about it.”

I know what he’s talking about, but I’m not going to let on to that, either.

“How Wes responds to accusations really has nothing to do with me, does it?” I ask. Leon is stumped again, unable to answer me. I keep going. If I can shut him up, I can get out of here with my job and my dignity intact. “Do you have any proof of this alleged affair?”

“Of course,” he says.

I bark a laugh. “I’m sure you do,” I say. “I’m sure you have all the evidence you need to prove something that isn’t happening.”

I’m calling his bluff. I hope to God that’s what it is. I’m acting confident, but I don’t know for a fact that he doesn’t have evidence.

“What I have can screw you over, both of you,” Leon threatens.

“Fine,” I say. If I’m going to call his bluff, I’m going to do it properly. I know he can’t have any footage of what happened at Wes’s place – that would be a crime – and Wes would have known if he had cameras in his office. Leon is a pain, but he’s not that crafty. I’m willing to take a gamble. “Why don’t you call the board members together? We’ll sort this out.”

Leon narrows his eyes at me. For the first time, I see uncertainty in his eyes, but it’s gone almost immediately.

“That’s a ballsy move,” he says.

I shrug. “Maybe that shows you that you’re wrong.”

Leon shakes his head. “I know I’m right. You’ll be notified.”

I shake my head.

“This is all good and well, Leon, but what the hell is your problem with me? Surely, you don’t think I’m sleeping with someone to get where I want to be in life?”

Leon is angry now, and I’m not sure why. This whole situation with him is so irrational. I don’t understand it.

“I don’t get to coast through life based on my looks. Bringing women into the workplace was the biggest mistake anyone could have made. Give any man a pretty face and open legs and women make fools of them. This is no different and don’t think for one second I don’t see right through you.”

I can’t understand what he’s so angry about. It’s not like I took his job when I got promoted or anything. I’m not only confused, but I’m also furious. I hate it when people assume I would do something so underhanded to get what I want in life.

“You know what, Leon?” I say. “Shove it up your ass.”

I walk out of the meeting room with my files, not looking back. I’m not sure if I’ll get in trouble for talking to my superior that way, but I’m furious. My blood boils beneath my skin. Where the hell is he coming from? I know he’s older than I am, obviously from a generation that has different views about gender equality than I do, but that gives him no right to treat me like the enemy. It’s not my fault I’m a woman and I sure as shit worked my ass off to get where I am now and not end up like my mother, dependent on someone else.

The nerve!

It takes me most of the day to calm down after what he said to me. I’m furious most of the time. When I finally manage to calm enough to think about the rest of the conversation, nerves bunch in my stomach. I challenged Leon, told him to tell the board. But what if his evidence is real, and I lose my job?

What will I do then? I was so focused on taking down RidgeCo in the beginning, but now all I can think about is losing my job. Who would have thought things would have flipped like this?

I take out my phone and text Wes. I explain myself briefly to give him a heads up. When he replies it’s only to say thank you for the heads up. I don’t know how he feels about it. I don’t know what’s going to happen.

What I do know is that I’m going to have to go ahead with this and see the board because I’m the one that suggested it. I’m going to go in there – whenever it is – and I’m going to stand my ground. I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t know to what lengths Leon will go. All I know is that I must go down fighting this because I can’t admit that Leon is right.

Yes, the guy hates me because I’m a woman in a good position, and that’s unfair. Yes, he’s a dick. But his hunch is right. His guess about me fucking Wes is correct. He might be going about it wrong, but he’s right. That scares the shit out of me. I’m fighting him on a lie. Wes is fighting him on a lie. Everything in this career seems to be based on a lie.

Even if I didn’t use sex to get where I wanted. Does it make me any better if I’m breaking the rules for other personal benefits than a promotion? I try not to think about it too hard. I’m scared about the conclusions I might come to.

Why does sex make things so complicated?

Wes

On Wednesday morning, I’m on my way to the dreaded board meeting. I’m not happy that we must meet with the board – I would have preferred that Kylie say something else to Leon about it than calling in the big boys. She called his bluff and told him he could go to the board about his accusations, but we don’t know if it’s a bluff. Leon apparently has proof that we’re having an affair.

Kylie seems confident that he’s lying. I think it’s a dangerous game to play considering he’s right about what we’re doing.

I’m one of the first people to arrive in the boardroom. Harold Clancy, head of HR, is there as well. He’s tall and stately, in his late forties with gray hair and a mustache. He still wears brown suits and striped ties the way they did in the fifties.

“Sorry about this nasty business, Wesley,” he says to me when I shake his hand. “I know I can trust you, but when an employee makes an accusation like this, you understand we need to follow up.”

I nod. “I do. It’s all part of the game, isn’t it?” I asked. “HR has its ups and downs.”

Harold laughs, and I remember why I like the guy. He’s firm, but he will always do it by the book. Here’s to hoping that Leon is wrong, because as nice as Harold is, if Leon is right he won’t save my ass.

Leon arrives shortly after. He smiles smugly at me. One by one the other board members filter in until all twelve of them are present. Kylie is the last to arrive. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it.

In fact, she has gone out of her way to look innocent. She’s wearing a butter yellow blouse and white pants with sandals that show bare toenails. She’s not wearing a lot of jewelry and what little makeup she has on makes her eyes look bigger. Her hair is loose hanging over her shoulders.

“Am I late?” she asks.

Harold smiles at her. I realize her look works. “You’re just in time,” he says. “Please, sit down.”

Kylie sits down in the nearest seat. She glances at me and in that small gesture I can tell she’s nervous, but her poker face is excellent. She looks calm. If anything, she looks unassuming. I don’t know how nervous she is on the inside. If only I felt as calm as she looks.

I am stressed. Leon’s accusations are a little more accurate than I’m comfortable with, even though I don’t think he can prove it. He wants to throw it all wide open because he seems to have something against Kylie, but it’s convenient that this is something he can hone in on. It’s one way to get her exposed, especially if it’s true.

Which it is. I sincerely hope that his so-called evidence isn’t real. I hope that he really is bluffing. The fact that he went through with the board meeting when Kylie suggested it makes me worry he has something solid to go by.

I guess we will find out in the next couple of minutes if it’s real or not.

“Let’s get this business started, shall we?” Mr. Richman says. He’s a stark, no-nonsense kind of guy and he’s conducting this meeting. He looks irritated. Mr. Richman looks at Leon. “You have come to us saying you caught wind of an affair. Our policy here at RidgeCo is strictly no fraternizing with colleagues.”

“That’s right,” Leon says.

“I would like you to know,” Mr. Richman says, “That we have a lot to do and I see this as a waste of my time.”

He’s not in a good mood. That may work in our favor. Leon shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“It won’t be a waste of your time, sir,” he says. “I have proof of their affair, and I think it’s important that I bring it to the attention of the board.”

Mr. Richman just blinks at Leon before he turns his attention to me.

“What do you have to say about this?” he asks me.

“Well, Mr. Richman, I don’t know how he could have gotten any proof if nothing is happening. I’m as curious to see what he has for proof as you are.”

When I glance at Kylie, I can’t read her face.

“And you?” Mr. Richman asks Kylie. “Have you been sleeping with your boss?”

He sounds mocking. His tone is irritated and a little disbelieving.

“I just got this job, Mr. Richman,” Kylie says. I’ve worked hard for it. It would be a terrible idea to jeopardize it now.”

I realize that she hasn’t exactly given Richman an answer. When I look at Leon, his eyes are narrowed at her. I’m sure he’s noticed that, too. Maybe he sees the evasion as another form of proof.

“Well, let’s see what you have, then,” Richman says to Leon.

Leon nods and steps forward. He puts a small recording device on the table. I frown. Richman looks at it with a blank expression.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“A recording of the conversations I’ve had with both Wesley and Kylie about their affair.”

Richman doesn’t seem impressed, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding.

Leon presses the playback button and steps back. Leon’s voice is loud and clear, filling the room a moment later. We all listen.

“He slept with a woman last night that apparently wouldn’t stop bragging about how much game her friend has.” It’s Leon’s voice.

“She didn’t brag about herself?” I sound bored.

“Yeah, it is interesting. This friend apparently fucks her boss.”

“Well, I guess morals vary from person to person.”

“I know who Brad’s talking about. He’s talking about Kylie.”

There’s a pause, and I remember how I felt, how I reacted. Of course, that’s not on tape.

“Don’t be ridiculous, man. You heard from your son who heard from a one-night stand who heard from a friend? It sounds like everyone has been drinking too much.”

“I have to get going. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow. Send my regards to Martha.”

Mr. Richman opens his mouth to say something when it plays again, this time with Kylie speaking to Leon.

“Don’t be a little snip.” When he sounds aggressive on tape, Leon clears his throat. The tape plays on. “ I mean the person. Your friend? She bragged to Bradley all night long about how her best friend is fucking her boss.”

He clears his throat again. He was quite aggressive toward Kylie.

“Who’s Bradley?”

“Your dumb-blonde routine isn’t going to get you out of this. He’s my son.”

“Well, maybe she was talking about another friend. Did she give him a name?”

Silence for a beat before she speaks again.

“Paris has a lot of friends, not just me. I’m pretty sure all of her friends have bosses.”

On the tape, Kylie sounds very calm, and Leon is aggressive. It doesn’t work in his favor so far. I glance at Richman who’s starting to look pissed. This is so much better than I anticipated.

“You’re lying.”

“It’s your word against mine, at this point.”

Another beat on the tape and then she speaks again.

“How Wes responds to accusations really has nothing to do with me, does it? Do you have any proof of this alleged affair?”

Richman reaches over and stops the tape. When I glance at Kylie, she looks relieved. She doesn’t even look at me. Good girl.

“I think that’s more than enough,” Richman says. “What is it that you’re trying to prove, here?”

Leon looks a little taken aback.

“They’re obviously up to something,” he says. “Did you hear how eager he was to leave?”

Richman looks at me for a moment with a “what the fuck” expression on his face.

“To be honest, Leon, I don’t think I would have been eager to stay if I were being accused like this,” he says.

I don’t smile, even though I want to.

“No one should have to stay in your presence, anyway. As for Miss Jordan, she denied it. From what I could tell, you were rather aggressive.”

Leon opens his mouth to say something, gasps for words and shuts it again without saying anything. He has nothing to say to that. He’s starting to get angry. His hands are tied, and now he’s made it all that much worse for himself. His failed attempt has only made me and Kylie look better.

Richman sighs.

“I think we need a bit of time to discuss this. If you’ll wait outside?”

I get up. Kylie stands, too. Leon doesn’t move. We walk to the door.

“You too, Leon,” Richman says.

Leon looks like he’s going to say something. Or throw something. He controls himself and follows us out.

“This is bullshit,” Leon says as soon as we’re all outside the boardroom. “This is total crap, and you know it.” He jabs a finger at me. “Don’t think I won’t get you for this.”

Kylie watches him with big eyes.

“Get me for what?” I ask. “Making a fool of yourself?”

Leon is getting angrier. His face turns red, and a vein bulges on his forehead. I feel a little bad for the man because he’s not wrong in his suspicions. But he’s going about it wrong, and that’s rubbing me the wrong way.

Leon storms toward the men’s room and I’m relieved that we won’t have to sit with him the whole time we’re waiting. I glance at Kylie, and she makes eye-contact with me, but we don’t speak. We’re doing what we said we would do. We’re not giving anyone a reason to think we might be sleeping together.

It feels like forever, but finally, Harold opens the door.

“You can come in,” he says. “Where’s Leon?”

“Men’s,” I say.

Harold nods. “I’ll call him.”

He disappears. I walk into the boardroom and Kylie follows me. We sit down in our respective seats again. I’m not nearly as nervous, now. I don’t know what they’ll say, but Leon’s evidence didn’t prove anything at all.

Leon walks into the boardroom a moment later with Harold on his heels. When everyone is seated, Richman clears his throat.

“We’ve talked about this, Leon,” he says. “It’s not proof of anything. We can’t do anything about conversations that didn’t go as you planned.”

Leon opens his mouth, shocked.

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“The only thing we’ve heard today was that you don’t seem to have a lot of respect for your boss or your team member.”

Leon shakes his head. “So, what?”

Richman glances at him, and there’s a warning in his eyes.

“So, you’re going to back off completely, and you’re going to change your attitude in the office, or we’ll have to talk to you for different reasons.”

Leon’s face is getting redder.

“So, I get punished when I’m not the one doing anything wrong?”

Richman shakes his head. “There’s nothing else we can find in these allegations, Leon. We can’t pursue this because there’s nothing to pursue. Consider this a warning.”

Leon jumps up.

“A warning?” He’s shouting, now. “I get a warning when they’re fucking, and they are going to just get away with it?”

“You should calm down,” Richman says, and he’s starting to look angry himself. “Remember this is the board.”

Leon is past the point of reason. His hands are balled into fists. I’ve seen him like this before. I know what’s coming.

“If this is the board, the people that are supposed to ensure the company runs well, it’s no wonder we’re such a shit show.”

“Leon.” It’s the final warning. I can hear it in Richman’s voice. I came in here worried that it would go terribly wrong. It is going wrong, but not in the way I expected.

I stand up. I don’t want Leon to make everything so much worse for himself. I still feel responsible for the man in some way.

“Just relax, Leon,” I say.

Leon glares at me.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says and picks up the closest chair to him. He flings it toward me. I get out of the way in time, but Kylie yelps and the board members jump up. Two of them grab Leon by the arms to restrain him.

“That’s it, you’re fired!” Richman shouts.

Leon goes limp. “What?” he asks.

“We’ll not tolerate this kind of violence in this company. I expect you to have your things cleared by lunch.”

Leon saws his jaw open and closed. He looks shell-shocked. I’m shocked, too. Kylie sits there, stunned. It escalated so quickly I’m still trying to catch up.

“You can’t do this to me!” Leon shouts.

Richman’s face is like stone. “Get out, or I’ll have security take care of you.”

The threat seems to calm Leon down enough to storm toward the door. But then he turns around and points at Kylie. “You’re no better than that whore mother of yours,” he bites out, then stomps out of the boardroom. We all stare at the door in shock as it slams shut behind him.

“Well,” Richman says a moment later. “I guess we’re done here.”

Kylie

By Friday everything has calmed down again. Rumors traveled through the office after Leon got fired, but they didn’t last long. There weren’t a lot of people on my floor that liked him. He wasn’t always this way, they tell me, but I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with him and his condescending attitude anymore.

I feel a little guilty that he was fired when he tried to out us. It bugs me that he was right, but he took the fall. Still, it wasn’t our fault he got fired. Wes mentioned he had anger issues. God knows I’ve seen something of his temper as well.

And that parting shot about my mother? How the hell did he know about that? And even stranger, why did he bring it up? Just another jab at me? Or is there something more that I’m missing? I’ve always had the impression he disliked me for reasons I couldn’t fathom. If it has something to do with my mother, though, I’m at a loss.

I guess everything turned out for the better. At least I can focus on my work again. And at least Wes and I aren’t keeping any more secrets. It was weighing on me. Now I can enjoy our time together. What little we get, anyway, since we’re being more careful than ever after the blowup with Leon.

I’m working late more and more so that I’m on top of everything. It’s my first project, and I don’t want to mess it up. I want to prove myself to Wes and everyone else that made me feel so welcome as their new project manager.

I like working late. It’s not just about overtime or feeling like I’m doing what I can to make it work. It’s also because the office is so quiet, then. The floor is empty, no general noise to distract me from my work, and no one drops by my desk to make small talk or ask me something. Of course, I love being a part of everything, now, but I still prefer being left to my own devices. I work so much better when I’m alone.

I’m lost in my work. The first submissions for the project have come back with feedback, and I’m anxious to know if they liked what I did. I’m proud of my work, but I like it when other people are proud, too.

“You’re working late,” Wes says, and I jump. “Sorry,” he adds. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I shake my head. My heart hammers in my chest and I swallow hard. “I was just lost in my work. I’m looking at feedback.”

I look up at Wes, and his eyes are impossibly green. He’s smiling down at me, and my stomach erupts in butterflies. Is it going to be like this every time I see him, even though we’re just sleeping together and it’s nothing more than that? He smiles at me, and I turn to jelly.

“The project is going well,” he says.

I nod. “I think I have it down. I’m still finding my feet, but I think I’m managing.”

“I would say you’re doing more than just managing. Your work is outstanding, I’ve been going over it whenever you submit something.”

I blush. There’s no good reason for it, but my cheeks burn, anyway.

“Thank you,” I say.

Wes shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. This is all you. I hired you because I knew that you were capable of this kind of work.”

“No,” I tease, “You hired because you wanted to fuck me over.”

He leans in and whispers, “And now I just want to fuck you.” He chuckles, then adds, “But seriously. You’re doing amazingly well. You were meant for this kind of work.”

He’s paying me a lot of compliments, and all of them are about my abilities, my skill, my mind. It goes so much further than a guy calling me hot or sexy. Of course, that’s just as nice, but a man paying attention to my mind just gets me on a whole different level.

“What do they have to say about your work in the feedback?” he asks.

I page through the file.

“They like the designs, they’re happy to proceed with the manufacturing, they seem positive about the programming. I think it’s going to work.”

Wes walks around my desk and pulls a chair closer from another desk. He rolls the chair so close that our knees touch when he sits down next to me and I’m suddenly flustered. I can’t think when he’s touching me. I can’t think when he’s near me, even.

“I knew it would all be good, of course,” he said. “I hope you’re proud.”

I nod, but I can’t really tell what he’s saying anymore. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart hammers against my chest. My body responds to him the way it always does – I start getting wet. He turns me on no matter how he looks at me.

As if his bright green eyes and charming smile weren’t enough, his eyes slide down my body. He moves his hand to my knee. I swallow hard and try to concentrate on his face, on what he’ll say next. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to make rational conversation. When I’m around Wes, I lose a couple of point on my IQ and my ability to communicate coherently abandons me. Pathetic? Yes. But I lust after him, and he’s the kind of guy that makes me melt every time he touches me.

Which is often, and he does it so fucking well.

Wes’s hand on my thigh slides upward. I’m wearing a skirt and thigh-high nylons, and the silk makes his skin on mine that much more intense. I’m hyperaware of his movement, of how his hand inches closer and closer to my pussy.

When his hand pushes underneath the skirt, I swallow hard. I close my eyes, try to pull myself together and put my hand on his to stop him.

I shake my head, and he doesn’t move further, doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t remove his hand, but it’s not sliding upward anymore. Small victories.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I say.

Wes frowns. His hand is searing hot on my thigh, and I’m aware of my own breathing, too shallow and uneven.

“Why?”

I take another deep breath. It comes out shaky when I exhale.

“Because I don’t want to lose my job. It’s been a close call with Leon, Wes. We can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes are serious when he looks at me.

“But I want to keep doing this,” he says. “I want you, Kylie. Surely, you know by now how irresistible you are?”

He moves closer to me as he speaks, his face moving so slowly toward mine I can’t exactly protest. But I don’t move away, and his face is so close now I can see bits of brown in his eyes, nestled in between the green of his irises, giving his eyes depth.

I smell his cologne. It’s so strong in my nostrils, and the scent reminds me of sex. The accompanying emotion is so strong my breath hitches in my throat. I can’t think straight. His hand is heavy on my thigh and images of his hand on my pussy, his mouth between my legs, flash before my eye.

“Wes,” I say, but I don’t get to finish my sentence. He presses his lips against mine, and every argument I had to defend my opinion disappears into thin air. He slides his tongue into my mouth, penetrating me. His hand slides up my thigh again, beneath my skirt and this time I don’t stop him. His fingers slide over the lace at the top of my stockings, tickle the bare skin on my inner thigh, and his fingers brush against the satin of my panties. A jolt of electricity shoots through my body, clenching muscles at my core and I sigh into his mouth.

His other hand moves to my neck, and he presses his broad palm against my skin. He slides his hand down and into the collar of my shirt. He’s not anywhere important yet. His fingertips only brush against my pussy and his hand is on the swell of my breast, but I’m breathing hard, lust roaring through my body.

“We can’t do this,” I mumble against his lips. “Someone can see us here.

Wes stops, and I’m proud of myself for being able to think rationally. He pulls away, taking me by the hand and pulling me up. He holds me against him for a second before he steps away and leads me with him. I can see his cock, erect in his pants, pushing it out so that it looks like he’s pitching a tent. He’s not even trying to hide it.

He leads me to the meeting room.

“This isn’t what I meant,” I say. “We’re still at the office. Wes. We said we wouldn’t do this.”

Wes closes the door behind us and locks it. The meeting room only has one window. It’s wide but it looks out over San Francisco, and it’s high enough that no one is going to be able to look in and see us.

“I can’t wait,” he says, and he takes two quick strides toward me. He grabs me and spins me around, pressing me against the wall. He pins me with his body, his cock grinding against me, hips gyrating, and I gasp. My body responds to his advances and lust is so thick in the air it makes me choke. I don’t know how I’m going to stop. A moment later his tongue is in my mouth, his hand on my tit and I stop thinking altogether.

His hand slides down my body, and he lifts my skirt.

“Sometimes I think you wear these to the office just to drive me crazy,” he says.

I don’t have time to answer him. He pulls up my skirt, pushes his hand into my panties, and his fingers find my clit so that my only response is a gasp. He moves his fingers back and forth, spreading my wetness. His fingers are slick with my sex when he pulls them out again. He’s teasing me, giving me just a taste before giving me anything else.

“I want you to suck on me, baby,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “I want my cock in your mouth.”

I don’t let him ask me twice. I kneel in front of him. My skirt is still up around my hips, my ass exposed to the cold air in the room. I don’t care. I want him in my mouth, too. I can already taste him.

I undo the button and unzip him before I reach into his pants and pull out his cock. He’s hard and thick, the smooth skin stretched across the size of him. The tip is slick with precum. I look up at him when I open my mouth and slide him between my lips. His face is riddled with hunger. I know he likes it when I look up at him. I know that it looks slutty, but I don’t do it with everyone all the time. Just for Wes.

“God, Kylie,” Wes groans when I bob my head, sliding him in and out of my mouth. He puts his hand behind my head to guide me, and I pump my head faster and faster, mimicking the rhythm of sex. When I glance up at him his eyes are closed, his lips parted, and he’s gasping. I cup his balls with my other hand and suck him into my mouth, sliding slowly out, playing my tongue over his tip every time.

I can do this all day. I love sucking Wes’s cock. He won’t let me, though. He has other things in mind.

Wes

When Kylie sucks on my cock, it takes every ounce of self-control not to come right away. I have my hands in her hair, and I want to hold her head still and fuck her mouth until I come, but I don’t want it to be over. I want to do so much more to her.

So, I pull out of her mouth. She looks up at me with large brown eyes, and I love the view I have from up here, seeing her kneel in front of me, her skirt around her hips. Her long stocking-clad legs are bare at the top of her thighs, and I imagine pressing my lips against her skin, nibbling at her flesh.

I take her hand and pull her up and kiss her again. Her scent is in the air, she’s turned on, and I can smell it. I lose all control and take what I want.

With my hands on her hips, I push her toward the table in the middle of the meeting room. She helps me by climbing onto it. I clamber on with her. She lies back, and her thighs fall open for me. Her panties are still in the way. I hook my fingers into them and pull them down, throwing them to the side. Her stockings and her heels I want to leave on. She looks sexy as fuck when she’s splayed open on the table like that.

I crawl over her and position myself between her legs. I press the head of my throbbing cock against her entrance, and she gasps. I look her in the eye as I push myself into her. She’s tight, and her body yields and stretches for me until I’m buried to the hilt. I move around a little, and she squirms beneath me as we adjust to the feel of each other.

She doesn’t get a lot of time to get used to me. I’m wired, ready to take it to the edge, and I have her beneath me. I pull back and slam into her, and she cries out. She bites her lip, and I know she knows she must be quiet. I pull out and slam into her again, building a rhythm. The table is sturdy enough to hold us, but it still rocks back and forth as I fuck her. Her breathing is hard. She gasps, my cock forcing the air in and out of her lungs.

Fucking her like this, here, is hot as hell. The chances of anyone coming in on a Friday evening and trying to get into the meeting room are slim to none, but it’s not impossible, and we’re in here, fucking.

After the board fired Leon when he accused us.

But the forbidden aspect is what makes it so erotic and I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going, keep fucking her.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

When I’m close to coming, I need to change position. If I keep going the way I am now, I’m going to lose control, and it will be over. I want to come inside of her, but not now.

I pull out of her, and she whimpers in protest. I get off the table, and grab her by the ankles, pulling her toward me. She yelps, surprised. When she’s on the edge of the table I help her off. As soon as her feet hit the ground, I spin her around and bend her over. I have an insatiable urge, and I position myself behind her. She looks over her shoulder at me.

I find her entrance with my fingers and push my cock into her again. She gasps and I know she’s trying her best to keep it down. She’s doing well as things go – I know from experience that she’s a moaner.

When I’m inside her, I start fucking her again, hard. I hammer into her, my hands on her hips to hold her steady and she braces herself on the table. My balls slap against her pussy. Her breathing is hard and heavy and I breathe hard, too, to match hers. Matching my breathing to hers makes it so much more intense. I feel like we’re connected on a level we haven’t been before.

I don’t know if she feels the same because I’m fucking her from behind, but I’m feeling it, and I’m feeling it hard.

Her ass is beautiful when I fuck her, her cheeks move back and forth in a double bounce against my hips. I run my hand down her thigh and feel the lace of her stockings. It’s such a fucking turn on. After I feel her thigh I rub my hand over her ass, over her back, and around her body, grabbing her tit through the shirt. I feel the wire of her bra, the padding keeping her tits in place. I squeeze her tit, and she moans softly. Her tits still swing back and forth, albeit less and I keep pounding her from behind.

Kylie arches her back, tips her head backward, sticking out her ass. Her body is on display, and she’s sexy, half-exposed to me with my cock pounding in and out of her from behind, partly dressed in the sexy office-wear she puts on when she comes in.

I swear she’s doing it all for me, and I love it.

Again, I get close to coming. I slow it down. I push into her and pull out again with slow strokes. Her breathing changes. I rub my hands along her back, feeling her as she moves with me.

When I pull out of her, she straightens up. She turns to me. Her pupils are dilated, her lips are parted, and her lipstick is a little smeared after she sucked me off. She pulls out a chair and points at it. I walk to it and sit down. None of the chairs in this room have armrests.

When I sit down, she straddles me and lowers herself onto me without ceremony. I’m inside her. She moves her hips back and forth, her feet on the ground and it’s intense. She looks me in the eye and reaches for her blouse, unbuttoning it slowly. When her blouse is open, she unclasps her bra – another one of those that clasps in the front – and her tits are on display for me. They’re large and round, swollen, the flesh pink. Her nipples are dark and tight.

I reach for her tits and cup one in each hand. She’s just a little more than a handful, and I love it. Her nipples are hard against my palm when I squeeze.

I take her nipples between my fingers and thumbs and tug on them so that her flesh pulls into little points. I’m not hurting her, but she gasps. She clenches the muscles at her core, gripping my cock before she starts riding me. She rocks her hips back and forth, sliding my cock in and out of her while I tug and squeeze at her tits. Her face is on the same level as mine, the eye contact impossibly intimate.

I lean forward and kiss her while she rides me. My tongue is in her mouth, and she meets it with her own tongue, swirling it around mine. I let go of her tits and put my hands on her hips, rocking her back and forth faster, helping her ride me.

“You’re so fucking hot,” I say to her when I break the kiss. She looks down at me, lips parted and I can’t tell any other emotion on her face than lust. She moans as she rocks on top of me and I can feel myself go deeper and deeper. She rides me and her eyes close.

I reach up to her face and put my hand on her cheek. I stroke her bottom lip with my thumb. She turns her head and takes my thumb into her mouth, closing her lips around me. She sucks on my thumb and plays her tongue around me. It’s the same as when she’s sucking on my cock, and the feeling is erotic.

“You’re my little office slut, aren’t you?” I ask.

I’m not sure if it’s too much – not everyone likes it when they’re called a slut. Her big eyes turn to me, and she nods, my thumb still in her mouth. The acknowledgment and the dirty talk is so hot. “Yeah, you just love it when I fuck you in the office. You like danger.”

She pulls back, letting go of my thumb.

“It’s such a turn on,” she says. “I like it when you take me in places where we can get caught.”

I put my hand back on her hips. I hold her still, hovering above my lap, and I start hammering into her from beneath her. She gasps and falls forward a little, catching herself on my shoulders with her hands. She leans against me, her tits pushed against my chest, and I can feel her even though I’m still wearing my office shirt.

I fuck her hard, pumping into her, picking up a speed that she can’t reach when she’s on top of me. It’s good when she rides me, but she can’t reach this gear.

She’s moaning and crying out.

“Quietly, babe,” I remind her. She closes her mouth, and her moans are a little more muffled through her nose, but they’re not a hell of a lot better. It’s okay, though. I’m pretty sure we’re alone. The sound of her moaning is so hot, I almost don’t want to stop her.

I get tired after a while and let her take over again. She moves her hips back and forth, slowly stroking me while she catches her breath. When she’s ready, she starts bouncing on top of me. My cock slips out of her almost all the way before it goes back in and her head is tipped back. I put my hand on her throat. I don’t choke her, I just hold it there. It’s a reminder of how strong I am, of how much I want to be in control.

Her gasping increases and she bounces faster and faster. She likes it when I hold her like this. I know she likes it when I take charge when I dominate her a little. I like it, too. I like taking her and making her mine.

I watch her tits as she bounces on me and they’re mesmerizing. They bounce up and down, too, the swells tugging at the skin, her dark nipples moving up and down. I grab one tit and dip my head. She slows her pace down a bit to let me suck on her, and I take one nipple into my mouth. She gasps, pushing her hand into my hair, closing her fist and tugging. It’s hot – just this side of uncomfortable – and she rocks her hips back and forth as she works her hand in my hair, her hips over my cock and her tit in my mouth in big, rolling motions.

Kylie

I’m bouncing on top of Wes’s cock, straddling his lap and he reaches all the right spots. His mouth is closed over one nipple, and he sucks hard enough that it’s almost painful, but it translates into pleasure, instead, and it adds to the sensation that’s happening between my legs.

I’m getting closer and closer to the edge, an orgasm building. My body shivers in waves and my legs are going numb. It’s becoming harder and harder to rock back and forth on his cock as my body experiences the front-runner to a huge orgasm. It’s getting closer and closer.

Wes lets go of my nipple just as I’m about to orgasm and it subsides a little.

“God, Wes, don’t stop,” I gasp out. I press my hand against the back of his head, urging him back to my tit again but he resists.

“Are you close?” he asks.

“I am,” I gasp. He doesn’t suck on my nipple again. I open my eyes and look at him. He has a mischievous look in his eye, and he’s grinning at me.

“Good,” he says, and he holds me with his hands so that I can’t rock all that much.

“Are you going to deny me?” I ask.

He smiles at me, and it’s a naughty smile. “Denial is all the fun, sweetheart.”

“Maybe for you,” I say, pouting. I want more. I want to come. I want a release, and now he’s stopping me from getting it.

He shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says.

Well, two can play at this game. I start moving again, pushing against his hands and soon he lets me go, lets me work my body over his. I move slowly, stroking him in and out of my body languidly. He leans back in the chair, and his eyes are rolled back in his head. I ride him slowly. I gyrate my hips. My tits are in his face, and I move my chest, moving them up and down. He’s riveted to my chest. He stares at me like he’s hypnotized and I keep moving, sliding onto him and pushing back up again, so he slides out of me.

His lips are parted, and his breathing changes. I know I’m teasing him – he’s not going to come like this. Payback is a bitch.

I keep riding him slowly, grinding against him, making him want it more than he’s wanted anything else. His fingers dig into my hips, and I gyrate myself onto him, into his hands. He groans and leans forward, burying his face against my chest. His mouth finds the tender skin on my tits, and he sucks and licks and nibbles me.

I push my hand between our bodies, finding my own clit. He’s not going to come, but I’m set on taking care of my own orgasm, the one he wouldn’t give me. I move up and down his cock. I move my finger in circles over my clit, rubbing myself into a frenzy. The orgasm comes hard and fast, my body curling around his. My muscles clench, and I struggle to keep as quiet as I should.

When the orgasm fades, I straighten up again and look at Wes. His eyes are bright green, and he looks like he’s about to die of frustration.

“You’re a real tease, you know that?” he says.

I smile at him. I’m not usually like this but Wes brings out a very different side of me, and I want to do wild things, be that person that breaks all the rules.

Which I’m doing. I think I’ve broken every rule that exists in the company.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, and he kisses me, hard. While he does so, he wraps his arms around my body and pushes up out of the chair, taking me with him. He only slips out of me for a short while, while he walks me to the wall. He pushes me up against it, pinning me against the wall with his body. He hikes my one leg up with his hand on my thigh and pushes right into me again like he hasn’t been out of me at all.

I’m barely touching the ground with the one foot that is on the floor – his body holds me almost in suspension against the wall – and he pounds into me. His cock slams deeper and deeper into me, and I cry out.

“Be quiet,” he says in a growling voice, and I bite my tongue, trying not to make too much noise. It’s impossible to keep quiet when he’s fucking me against the wall the way he is. The orgasm I just had in the chair makes a reappearance, and I can’t think straight.

His breathing changes, his strokes shorten, and he pumps into me even faster, and I know it’s just a matter of time before he topples over the edge.

The moment I think it he shoves himself deep inside me. He pumps into me, releasing his load and I get a repeat of my own orgasm as he pushes me over the edge, too. I clutch onto him, my hand in his hair. His face is on my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

The orgasm lasts longer than I expect it to and when we’re finally done, I can barely stand. I lean against the wall even after he pulls out of me. I sag a little and watch him fix his pants. He looks at me as he pulls up the zipper, his face a little slack, still breathing hard.

“You’re fantastic,” he says.

He leans forward and pecks me on the lips. I smile weakly at him. He thinks I’m fantastic? God, he’s more than mind-blowing. I push away from the wall and start pulling my skirt back over my ass. I realize my panties disappeared and look around, searching for them. Wes bends down and finds them under a chair. He picks them up and holds them out to me, hanging from one finger.

I giggle shyly and take them from him.

It takes skill to pull them on over my heels, but I manage to get them up and settled underneath my skirt. I pull my tits together and tuck them into my bra before buttoning up my blouse. I don’t know what I look like. I can only hope I don’t look like I’d just had sex in the office if I do run into someone.

Wes sits down in the chair we just fucked in, and he looks at me. I glance at him and feel a little uncomfortable standing opposite him after we’ve done something so intimate.

“You okay?” he asks. I’m surprised that he asks.

“Do you think we’ll be okay after the whole thing with Leon?” I ask. Now that we’ve done it here at work again – something we never said we would do – I’m scared that it will come around and bite us in the ass again. I know he’s been fired, but I’m still scared that something is going to go wrong.

“Don’t worry about it,” Wes says. “It’s going to be okay.” He gets up and stretches as if his muscles are sore. Well, my body aches, too, but in a delicious way. “I need to get going. Are you coming?”

I look at the table and shake my head.

“I have to clean up a bit, I think,” I say. He nods and leaves the office without saying anything else to me. It’s not that I really want to clean up although the table can do with a good wipe down. It’s also that I want to be alone for a moment and think about what I’ve done.

We agreed we wouldn’t do anything at work because it wasn’t safe. Now that Leon is gone, that doesn’t mean that our jobs are safe and I was so serious about making it work between us without jeopardizing my career.

And now? I couldn’t even tell him no the first time he came on to me. What does that say about me? I know he’s irresistible, but I must be stronger than that.

I don’t want to be stronger, though. Not with him. Something about him makes me want to give it all up, give it all to him. I want to get wet and wild with him.

When I leave the meeting room and walk to the ladies’ room for a towel, I’m relieved that I seem to be the only one in the office. I was nervous that someone would be here and there would be questions – either someone asking me why I’m so late or that someone heard us. But the trip to the ladies’ room and back is without drama, and I wipe down the table.

The room doesn’t smell like sex, which is surprising after what we’ve done but I open the window a little while I’m busy, anyway. I make sure the chairs are where they need to be and when I’m done, I close the window again before I switch off the light and leave the meeting room.

When I leave the building, I realize I’ve redefined the term “working late.”

Wes

I have a great weekend. I get to relax for a change. I think Kylie has something to do with that. There’s nothing as good as great sex to get you to relax.

When I walk through the office doors on Monday morning, I’m in a good mood. My job is going well – Kylie’s project is on track despite the hiccup with Leon – and things between the two of us are great on a personal level. I like being with her. She’s easy to talk to, and she doesn’t expect anything more than what we’re doing. That’s rare for a woman.

When I reach my office, Harold is waiting for me with his hands in his pockets. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking at the art on the wall outside my door as if he’s been waiting for a while.

“Harold, morning,” I say and smile holding out my hand. He shakes my hand, but he doesn’t return the smile.

“We need to see you in the boardroom,” Harold says. He looks serious, and my good mood wavers a little.

“Is everything alright?” I ask.

“Make sure you put down your things and get there,” Harold says before he walks away. My stomach turns a little. I have no idea what’s going on. I unlock my office and put down my briefcase and coat before I head toward the boardroom. I’ve never been summoned this way, and I don’t know what to expect.

I stop at the men’s room and splash cold water on my face. I pat my face and hands dry with a paper towel and look at myself in the mirror. I look immaculate in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. I should be invincible. I’m on top of the world. I just don’t feel like it right now.

Does this have to do with Kylie and our evening in the conference room on Friday? It can’t be. No one could know about that – I made sure we were alone. I double checked when I left, and I know Kylie took care of everything else.

I am worried about nothing, I tell myself. I take a deep breath and walk to the boardroom. I don’t want to leave them waiting. Harold was serious about seeing me. When I reach the door, I take a deep breath and steady myself before walking in. I worked on an alibi for Friday night. I decided to tell anyone that asked that I spent the night at a cigar bar on the other side of town. I know that Kylie has an alibi too, I texted her, but she would do something like that, anyway.

She’s a smart woman.

I still don’t think this has anything to do with what happened on Friday, but I am on my guard, and I will only relax afterward, the way I did after what happened to Leon.

I reach for the door handle and push into the boardroom.

They’re all there. All board members are seated around the table, and they all look as solemn as Harold did. I smile, greeting them, trying to look more confident than I feel.

“Take a seat, Wesley,” Richman says to me.

I sit down and look at the board members one by one. They’re all serious when I look at them, making eye contact only briefly before looking down at the table or up at the ceiling or anywhere they can without making eye contact with me. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. Something is wrong.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Richman takes a deep breath. “I was hoping that you can tell us, Wesley. I thought this business about your alleged affair is over, but apparently, there’s a sex tape.”

I blink at Richman. “What?” I ask.

“You heard me,” Richman says, nodding. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Surely this is some kind of joke?” I ask.

Richman looks toward the window. “Honestly, I’m getting sick of whatever this is. You’re all wasting our time.”

I don’t like the way he makes it a plural, suggesting that I’m part of the problem. I know better than to argue with him, though. Richman in a good mood is already hard to deal with. He’s in a bad mood today, and the man has a lot of power. He can fire anyone besides the owner, and I don’t feel safe right now.

I don’t know why I have such a strong feeling of foreboding.

“Where did this video come from?” I ask. It has to be bullshit. It can’t be real.

“Leon will arrive with it, shortly,” Richman says without looking up at me. I groan inwardly. Of course, Leon is behind this. It was too good to be true that he wasn’t a part of the company anymore. I was stupid thinking I was rid of him. God, I’m such an idiot.

“Have you even seen the video?” I ask. “Or is this just another fake, like the recording?”

Richman shakes his head. “We haven’t seen it. It’s what we’re here for.”

I nod. I don’t have anything else to say. We sit in an awkward silence for a while before the door opens again and Leon walks in. He looks smugger that before if that’s possible.

My stomach tightens. What the hell is he doing here? It feels like I’m stuck in a time loop. He was fired – there’s no reason for him to be here.

“Wes,” he says tightly, barely a greeting.

“Leon,” I reply because I don’t know what else to say in front of all the board members that had him escorted out of the building less than a week ago.

He walks toward the front of the room, standing next to Richman like he’s someone important. I don’t like that he’s there. I’m irritated with him in general. I’ve been so good to this guy, giving him so many chances when he didn’t deserve it. This is how he repays me, by stabbing me in the back like this.

“Has Miss Jordan been summoned?” Richman asks. They’re going to make Kylie watch this, too? I’m upset for her sake. She doesn’t deserve all this shit, and I feel like it’s my fault she’s involved. She comes in a moment later, and then we’re all assembled the way we were last week on Wednesday.

“Take a seat,” Richman tells Kylie. She sits down as he asks. She looks at me, and she’s very nervous this time. It was completely unexpected and I know she’s just as unsure about Friday as I am. I want to make her feel better, to reach out and squeeze her hand and tell her it’s alright. I can’t do that, though, because we’re trying to pretend we have nothing to do with each other. I’m not sure how long that will last, but I’m planning on riding this out until the very end.

She looks away from me without any form of acknowledgment other than that glance, and I know she feels the same. It doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking, though.

Richman opens a laptop and Leon produces a USB. Richman takes it from him and inserts it into the laptop, pressing a few buttons before he turns the screen so everyone in the room can see. The first gray images appear on the screen, and I hold my breath instinctively.

The footage is so grainy it takes me a moment to realize what I’m seeing. Once I’ve made out the shapes, though, I can’t really unsee it. It’s two figures, fucking. That’s clear enough. And it looks like the conference room Kylie and I used. Other than that, I can’t see anything. A man and a woman are fucking on the table, but it’s impossible to see the faces. It’s such a relief.

I glance at Kylie who’s watching the video intently, but she doesn’t look like she’s going to faint anymore. It’s us – I know that for sure. There’s my hips, slamming against her ass – but they don’t know that, and there’s no way they would be able to figure it out. It can be anyone with white and black office clothes on.

The video isn’t very long, and I think Leon must have set up a cheap camera to capture us. I don’t know how he figured the conference room would be the best place, but it doesn’t matter. The video is so shaky there’s nothing that can be said about it.

Finally, the video ends and Richman slams the laptop shut. He’s so angry it’s palpable, and he glares at Leon.

“That’s enough,” he snaps at him. “I don’t want to hear anything about this again. You’re officially a persona non grata at RidgeCo and you will be escorted out by security if you set foot in the lobby.”

Leon gasps. “But you can see it’s them!” he cries out.

Richman shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t make me drag you out of the building. This time you’ll regret it.”

Leon spins to face Kylie, pointing his finger in her face. It takes all my self control not to jump up and sucker punch that asshole in the nose.

“You won’t get away with this,” he rants. “I’ll be damned if I lose my job over this. Yet another Jordan slut ruining my life.”

I stand up. His bullshit has gone on long enough. “What the fuck are you talking about, Leon?”

He smirks and turns to me. “You have no idea what your little office slut is really up to. Let me enlighten you. Her mother used to work for the company.”

I glance at Kylie to check her reaction, to make sure she’s okay. We talked about all of this the other night. She was devastated by the whole destruction of her family. I don’t want this asshole bringing it up and causing her any more pain.

But Leon takes that glance to mean something different. He grins smugly like he thinks he’s about to drop a bomb on us.

“Yeah, that’s right. She slept with the boss, too. Only this boss just so happened to be the owner of the company. It was a big mess. She ended up getting fired, there was a ton of drama surrounding it, and then the no fraternizing policy was put into place.”

So far, he isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know.

His smug smile then dissolves into a twisted grimace. “But it wasn’t soon enough. It affected more than just your family, poor little Kylie.”

The way he says it, so demeaning and derogatory, has me ready to launch myself at him, but I catch the nearly imperceptible shake of Kylie’s head.

Leon keeps right on going. “Turns out once Mr. Jordan found out his wife wasn’t the faithful, doting wife he believed her to be, he got his revenge.”

“Jesus, Leon. That’s enough,” I say. I can’t just stand here and let him say such terrible things about Kylie’s parents, even if they did do the things he’s saying.

“No, it’s not. Do you have any idea why she’s here? She wants to take you down—the whole company—because of what happened with her family. And you’re stupid enough to fuck her.”

Richman stands up now, too. “That’s enough of your accusations, Leon. Stop flinging around rumors that you can’t back up.”

Leon smiles again, but it’s a terrible, hateful smile. “Oh, I have plenty of proof here. Because the good Mr. Jordan? I know for a fact that he slept around. Because I caught him fucking my wife.”

The collective intake of breath is audible around the room. Holy shit. No wonder Leon is so irrationally obsessed with the no fraternizing policy. He was affected by Kylie’s family as well. But he’s dead wrong if he thinks that excuses any of his behavior.

“Leon,” I say, trying to be as calm and patient as I can, because I’m reminded yet again that his wife is suffering from cancer—his wife that he remained with for all these years, even through her unfaithfulness. “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. But that doesn’t give you the right to try to take Kylie down with you.”

He sneers. “Exactly what a man who’s pussy-whipped would say.”

“Okay, we’re done here,” Richman says. “Leon, get out now or I’m calling security.”

Leon seems to understand what a threat is this time. He shuts his mouth, pulls the USB from the laptop and in a huff, he storms toward the door. He leaves, slamming the door behind him so hard I can almost feel it.

“As for the two of you,” Richman says when it’s silent again. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but this is ridiculous. I’ve never heard so many complaints about the same two people. You’re both fired.”

“What!?” I cry out the same time Kylie does.

“You can’t do this,” I say for the both of us. If I thought I couldn’t be any more surprised, I was wrong.

Richman glares at me. “Watch me. I have heard about the two of you for much longer than I care about.”

“But none of this shows that we did anything,” I protest. Kylie seems to be in shock. She’s not saying anything, just watching me fight it all out by myself.

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do,” Richman says. “There are scandals surrounding your name and this project is too important to risk losing because of poor publicity.”

I blink at Richman. When I look at Harold, hoping to God, he can help me, talk some sense into Richman, he just shrugs his shoulders at me.

“I would suggest you both take care of your personal belongings before the day and leave politely. I won’t hesitate to list you as persona non grata, too.”

Kylie tries to say something but Richman shoots her a look so hard she shuts her mouth again. She gets up, and I can see by the way she walks to the door that she’s furious. I can’t even go after her to make sure she’s alright because that would give us away. I’m not sure if that matters anymore, seeing that we both just lost our jobs, but I don’t want to make matters worse than they are.

It’s already a lot worse than it needed to be.

“I’m sorry it took so much of your time,” I say to Richman. I glance at Harold who looks a little apologetic before I leave the boardroom and head toward my own office.

I can’t believe that I’ve been fired. I was the CEO of the company from the start, stepping into the position my dad had created for me. Being fired was never in the cards for me.

How did this happen?

Of course, I know exactly how it happened. I met Kylie, and I couldn’t stay away from her. I had to have her, repeatedly. No one found out about it, as far as I can tell, but that doesn’t matter because it still ruined our careers.

I wonder if it would have gone this far if nothing happened between us. Leon hates Kylie, and he might have tried the same things, but we might have reacted differently. I don’t know. I can drive myself crazy with what-ifs.

In my office, I close the door and turn to my desk. I have so much to pack up. I can’t pack it all in one day, but I don’t intend on going out without a fight. I know Charles Hendricks personally. They guy may have started a snowball of messed up shit with Kylie’s family, but he’s still the owner of the company. Maybe I can still get this straightened out.

Kylie

I’m at my desk trying my best not to cry. I can’t cry here, not now. I must be big about this and take my punishment. I’ve done wrong, and I must bear the consequences. That’s how it works, right? That’s what being an adult is all about.

Except, I hate this. I lost my job just like I feared I would. Where do I go, now? What do I do?

Just beneath the threatening tears, panic waits for me. I know the moment I walk out of these doors I’m going to fall apart. It’s crazy how just a few weeks ago I had this master plan that didn’t end with me staying with RidgeCo anyway. But everything has changed. I’ve come to love this job. And Wes. What about him? What about us? I can’t even think about that yet.

It doesn’t take me long to pack my things. I’ve been at the new desk for such a short time I didn’t have time to accumulate rubbish. I guess it was a blessing in disguise. I tried very hard to be anything but devastated, and I failed.

Why couldn’t I just have stayed away from Wes? Okay, so he was my boss at the time. But I should have stayed away from him, told him no when he came onto me like that the first time in his office. No matter how much I’d wanted it.

Because he was as irresistible then as he is now.

I shook off the thought. He was trouble from the start, and I fell for it. And look where I am now, because of it? I’ve lost my job, my income. How am I going to take care of my mother, now? How am I going to find a new job? I will probably have to be a receptionist again because I wasn’t a project manager for long enough.

The thought of taking a step back in my career breaks the dam wall, and I start crying. I can be strong saying goodbye to my friends. I can leave the company behind. But taking a step back in life – that gets me. My eyes well up with tears and I scold myself for being such a baby.

The desire was so damn strong every time Wes made a move, I couldn’t resist. I should have. I should have resisted every time. I had a plan. But I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

Maybe if I was strong enough to resist someone like Wes, I would still have my job. God knows what Leon might have done anyway, but I know this is partly my fault. I should have been stricter, more set on saying no.

But I didn’t want to say no to Wes.

And the sex with him is the best sex I’ve had in my life. But I can’t think like that, I scold myself. No sex is good enough to lose your job over. No man is good enough to sacrifice your career, your future for.

God, I’m just an idiot.

I shouldn’t have slept with him. I should have resisted. I should have done the right thing and walked away, or reported him or something.

But, of course, I couldn’t do that. I wanted him and I had him and every moment that I did I loved it. Sure, I could have stopped, but I didn’t want to stop. So, I didn’t. That made me just as guilty.

I take a deep breath and start on my drawers.

No one stops by my desk while I’m packing. They’ve all heard, and I’m sure none of them want to see me or talk to me. I imagine it’s a scandal, they’re frowning down on me. I’m embarrassed and humiliated, and even if they want to come to me and offer their condolences, I don’t want it.

I stack all the work I’ve already done on the project on the corner of my desk for whoever is going to take over on this project. With Leon, me and Wes gone, I’m not sure how well the project is going to do, but I guess that isn’t my worry anymore. I imagine a new CEO interviewing new people for the same position, and I’m suddenly angry.

I’m furious. My blood boils beneath my skin, and I feel like I could choke on my rage. What am I so angry about? The injustice of it all, the fucking unfairness. I’m a woman, and I’ve been discriminated against. Leon has made me seem like a problem from the start and Wes has objectified me.

The latter isn’t true – or fair – and I know it. But I’m so angry, and I feel sorry for myself. I want to wallow in self-pity. I want someone to realize that I am a victim. Anyone. I was fired for doing nothing wrong.

I shake my head at myself. My reasoning is messed up. I came in with malicious intentions, and even though I quickly changed my mind, I can’t pretend it wasn’t the case. Then Leon was fired for how he treated me, but the rest is also my fault. I know that. I knew the policy existed and I chose to break it.

The sex was fantastic with Wes, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that good, every time. If I’d turned him down the first time and insisted we follow company rules from the start, I would have missed out on the best sex and the most interesting situation I’ve had in a long time.

Which is exactly how I shouldn’t be thinking. I’m terrible for thinking what I did was good, for allowing myself to think at all that doing something that wrong was warranted.

I sit down in my chair and sink my head into my hands. The anger is replaced by something like dread and despair.

What the hell am I going to do, now? I worked as hard as I did throughout college to get somewhere that would pay the bills, that would allow me a comfortable life. I didn’t want to end up like my mother who had nothing because some man left her with half a life that she had to build herself.

I wanted to be more. I got that scholarship and everything.

And now? Now I’ve been fired, and I have living expenses and a student loan for my master’s degree to still pay off.

And I have nothing to show for all my hard work except a poorly concealed scandal and a job on my résumé that has the word “fired” in big red letters stamped across it so that I won’t be able to apply for a new position anywhere else without this horrible situation following me around.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to go back in time and change things. But, of course, there’s nothing I can do about what’s happened, and I must deal with the consequences. I must man up and accept my fate.

I can’t help but think it’s Wes’s fault. It’s my fault, too, but I blame him. What do I blame him for? For being so handsome. For being so damn good in bed.

For being irresistible and too comfortable about what we were doing, too confident that we wouldn’t get caught.

I blame him for everything I don’t want to blame myself for this situation. I’m trying to find an excuse or reason to say this wasn’t my fault, that I’m not the one that messed up.

But I know I did, and that’s a fact.

When I’m done packing up, I look around the office one more time. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. It’s going to be horrible walking out of here. I have been a part of RidgeCo for many years. The promotion was new, working in this department was new, but I was a receptionist for a long time, and I knew everyone that walked through the doors, knew this building like the back of my hand.

I guess all good things must come to an end. And who would have thought that in the end I’d look back on my time at RidgeCo as a good thing? I harbored such anger for so long. But it really wasn’t founded in the end. That makes everything all the more bitter.

I stand up from my desk and pick up the apple box I used to clear out all my stuff. With the years here accumulated into one tiny little box, I head toward the elevator.

I balance the box with one hand while I push the button. I want for the doors to slide open.

When the doors ping and slide open, Wes is already in the elevator. I freeze when I see him. My stomach turns, and it’s like my body doesn’t know what to feel. I want to get excited that it’s him, but the anger overrides everything, and it squashes any positive feelings I have for him.

He’s carrying a box, too. I assume he’s heading out of the building the same way I am, but he doesn’t have nearly enough things in the box. Maybe he has to come back and clear out his office with a moving van. I only consider waiting for the next elevator for a second before I step in next to Wes and turn to face the door the same way he is.

The atmosphere in the elevator is strained. Usually, we’re so close to each other we can fit into the smallest spaces together without blinking. Usually, we can’t keep our hands off each other, can’t resist touching or kissing or fucking.

Now, the elevator is too small for the two of us and tension hangs between us so thick I can run my fingers through it.

I’m getting angrier and angrier. I know it’s my fault, but being angry is better than the alternative, which includes me having a meltdown and crying. I’m not going to do that in front of Wes, and certainly not anywhere anyone can see me when I walk out of the building. No, the anger is welcome. It keeps the rest of my emotions at bay.

I can feel him looking at me, his eyes burning on my skin. Not even two hours ago, I would have reacted differently to that. I would have looked back at him. I would have wanted him to do more than stare at me.

Now, I want him to get away from me as far as he can. I don’t turn my head and look back at him. I ignore him as if there’s no one else in the elevator but me.

“Kylie,” he says after a minute, “why are you being like this?”

I turn my head to him and blink. “Being like what?” I ask him.

“Why are you pushing me away?”

I can’t believe he’s asking me this.

“Because I lost my job because of what we’ve done. Which is exactly what I was afraid of. I don’t have all sorts of trust funds to fall back on.”

He frowns. “That’s not fair. This is horrible for me, too.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure. I can imagine how difficult it will be for you to find your feet and get into a new position again. Or live at home for however long you want because you have the cash for that kind of thing.”

“That’s not fair,” he says.

I shrug. I know it’s not fair but I’m furious, and I want to hold onto the anger for as long as I can because it holds all the other emotions from overwhelming me.

“Let’s just call it what it is, Wesley,” I say, and he flinches when I use his full name. “We messed up, we got fired, and now we’re leaving the building, going our separate ways.

“That can’t be what you want?” he asks.

I turn my head and look at him. His green eyes are dark and hurt. His face is serious. He looks as distraught and upset as I feel. His hair is a mess like he spent a lot of time pushing his hand into it in the last hour.

But I don’t care. I have to look out for myself now. I can’t get distracted looking out for someone else, or by his good looks. He will always be the most attractive man I have ever seen.

The elevator pings and the door slide open into the lobby.

“It’s exactly what I want,” I say and step out of the elevator. I walk away from him, clutching onto my box like it’s a lifeline, and I don’t look back.

Wes

I don’t know what to do. I’ve lost my job. I’ve lost the job that was waiting there for me since I graduated from high school. My dad lined up this job for me, and I worked my way through college knowing that I would do this for the rest of my life, that I didn’t need to worry about job applications because I was set.

And now, I have nothing.

Not only that, but I also caused Kylie to lose her job. Judging by the anger that crackled around her in the elevator earlier and the way she obviously wants nothing to do with me, she’s not taking it very well. And, why should she? She’s right.

Everything she said to me hurts, but it’s true.

I have a lot of financial stability and a positive future to fall back on, despite this hiccup. Kylie, on the other hand, didn’t have much to start off with and now – thanks to me – she has even less.

I have to phone Hendricks. I need to see him and speak to him about this. Even if it does nothing for me, though, it might help Kylie get a leg up in life again. Maybe he can pull some strings for her. It’s the least he could do at this point.

Every time I think about Kylie and her being fired, I feel sick to my stomach. I feel guilty that she lost her job. I feel hurt that she doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I feel terrible that her life is falling apart because of me.

Why couldn’t I just keep it in my pants? I’m so used to getting what I want I insist on it, now. I’m a spoiled brat, and I know it.

And now Kylie is in a bad place and unwilling to see me or speak to me properly. God, what a mess.

When I get home, I walk to the wet bar in the corner of my living room and pour myself three fingers of whiskey. I don’t like drinking as a rule, but this is a special occasion. I throw the amber liquid back, and it burns down my throat. I pour another three fingers, but this time I sip it, slowly.

The alcohol makes me feel light and airy, but the sick feeling in my stomach doesn’t go away. Why would it?

I close my eyes and flash on Kylie’s face. She looked so hurt when she heard she was fired, so broken. The look on her face was such a stark contrast from the other expressions I’ve seen her have – lust, orgasms, shyness, smiles, bliss. I don’t like that I was partly the cause of that look on her face. Of course, she was to blame for what happened, too. I didn’t hold a gun to her head and tell her to fuck me.

Still, I know I was a lot more comfortable than she was, and she was the one that was right to be so cautious.

Damn hindsight.

When my second glass of whiskey is finished, I pick up my phone and look for Charles Hendrick’s number in my contacts list. I take a deep breath, ignore the knot in my stomach that didn’t get any smaller with the addition of the alcohol in my system, and ring the number.

It takes a long time for Hendricks to answer, so long I expect to be sent to his voicemail when he answers gruffly.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hendricks, it’s Wes Wagner speaking.”

“Yes, son, what is it?” he asks. He sounds like he’s in a hurry.

“I won’t talk long, I hear you’re busy. Could I meet with you? There are a few things I would like to discuss.”

Hendricks sighs heavily. “I’m in the middle of a media frenzy now, Wesley. When something happens within the company, it comes right back to me, and I have to deal with it.”

I swallow hard. Of course, he knows everything that’s happening. I don’t know how he feels about it. He sounds blunt, but it could be that he’s busy just as much as it could mean that I’m his least favorite person right now.

“Let me get this sorted out,” he says again. “I’ll give you a call later in the week, and we can make some time to talk.”

When he hangs up, I’m a little more positive. Hendricks is a tough old man with business savvy, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. The combination makes him invincible. If he’s willing to see me – no matter how upset he is with what I’ve done and what’s happening to his company – it can’t be that bad, can it? Besides, he’s one to talk about fraternizing.

Maybe I will be able to make things right, get Kylie her job back, do something good for a change. I don’t know if Hendricks will remember to call me back or if he will be in the mood to do so once the media frenzy, as he calls it, dies down. I honestly hope so.

I really need to be able to call in all the favors I have access to because of my position and my class.

Kylie was right when she said I had money to fall back on and I will use it to my advantage in this situation if I can.

When I walk back to the bar to pour more whiskey my stomach turns, and I feel even sicker than before. I’m worried Hendricks won’t be able to help me. I know that I might not be able to get my own job back. I don’t even want to know what my dad will say to me when he catches wind of this.

Wesley Wagner Senior is a piece of work. He’s hard as nails, and I’ve had a tough time stepping up to his expectation of me. I know I’m going to get more than an earful about all of this when I see him again.

Honestly, I don’t care. All I care about is making everything right for Kylie again. Even if she decides that she doesn’t want to see me again, I want her to be okay. She means something to me. In the short time, I’ve gotten to know her a little bit, and we’ve gotten as close as we were because of us fucking so often, I’ve become attached to her.

I want her to succeed. I want her to be happy. And I feel terrible that she’s not getting either of those things because of me. I don’t want that for her. I want her to have a good life. So, I will do anything I can to make this right.

I realize I miss her. I just saw her and not nearly enough time has passed to make it rational, but I miss her. I want to see her again. I want to be with her again. She’s the kind of woman I want to spend my time with, even if we don’t end up in bed together.

She’s the kind of woman that would make a man very happy. And I want that. I don’t want someone else to have her. I want her to myself.

But that doesn’t make sense, does it? I can’t be the one to walk this road again, to feel like this about a woman. After what Marisa did.

But Kylie isn’t Marisa. And she’s isn’t any other women, either. She’s Kylie, and that’s all she needs to be for me to… I pause mid-pour. For me to what? For me to be in love with her?

When the realization hits me, I nearly stagger.

I’m in love with her.

Oh, my God.

Kylie

I feel miserable. I have done nothing the whole week but lie in bed feeling sorry for myself. By Thursday I smell because I haven’t been in the shower for three days. My hair is a tangled mess, and I have no trace of makeup left because I’ve cried so much it’s been more cleansing than any makeup remover.

What am I crying about? My job, mostly. My job, and Wes. That I’m crying this much over a man I shouldn’t care about tells me how far I’ve fallen.

I haven’t told my mom about what happened. I can’t bring myself to admit to her what a failure I am, how badly I messed up. When I got the scholarship, she was so proud of me.

“You’re going to make something fantastic of yourself,” she kept saying. I got the student loan to study for my MBA, and she was just as proud of me, then. “You fight the right battles to get where you need to be.” Her words of encouragement were what got me through my degree, through my MBA.

When I was hired as a receptionist instead of anything noteworthy, she told me that everything starts small. Rome wasn’t built in a day. It’s her favorite saying no matter how cliché. And I held onto that hope. I got promoted to project manager and I was so proud to tell her she was right, to tell her that I was finally building the life I always dreamed of.

And now? Now, in less than a month, I’ve been fired from the job I’ve been working toward my whole life and my career is over. With a black mark on my résumé like that, I don’t know what I’m going to do, where I’m going to end up.

My phone rings, and it’s Paris. I think about not answering, but I do, and I hold the phone against my ear.

“We’re going out for lunch,” she says.

“I don’t think I’m up to it,” I say. “I feel sick.”

“It wasn’t a question. Shower and get dressed. I’m coming to your place in an hour. If you’re not out of bed and ready for me by the time I get there, I’ll drag you out of bed and put you in the shower myself.”

She hangs up. I shake my head at the phone and groan. Paris is the only person that knows what happened. She knew about Wes, so it was easy to explain, and she’s my best friend.

I get out of bed because I know she’s not joking about dragging me out of bed if I don’t do it myself. Paris might fool around a lot when it comes to big life decisions, but she’s the most loyal friend I have. If the same thing happened to her, the roles would be reversed, and I would be the one threatening her on the phone.

An hour later, I’m dressed and ready for her. My hair is still damp, but I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a cartoon print on it and ballet flats. I’m not wearing makeup – that’s pushing it – but I open the door, and she smiles.

“Come on,” she says. “You look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

I know I have dark circles under my eyes. I don’t know why, because it feels like sleeping is all I’ve been doing.

We go out to Brenda’s Meat and Three, a very casual restaurant with southern food. When we arrive, a waitress leads us to the back of the dining area, and we sit down in a booth. I slide into the black leather seat. Paris sits opposite me.

“So, tell me,” she says.

I roll my eyes. “It’s such bullshit,” I say. “What did I do to deserve this?” I sigh. “I guess it’s my fault, too, because I did sleep with him and I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. But still, this can’t be the end for me. It’s not fair. And Wes, God.” I’m getting angrier as I speak. “He will just bounce back from this. It’s so typical. He’ll probably be able to shrug it off while I have nothing left.” I bury my face in my hands. “Is this what I get for conspiring against the company?”

Paris shakes her head. “So, you move on. You’ll figure something out, I know you.”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I can fix this.”

“You’ll find a way. You know what we need? Beignets.”

I laugh. “I haven’t even eaten food yet.”

“So?” Paris says. “You’re eating your emotions. Might as well make it worth your while.”

I chuckle, and Paris orders us two coffees and beignets.

“So, I’m assuming you’re not talking to him, anymore?” Paris asks when the waitress leaves. I shake my head.

“What would I talk to him for? He’s the reason I lost my job.”

Paris stays quiet and lets me speak.

“Besides, it was never going to work, anyway. It’s not like we would fit into each other’s lives. The only thing we had in common was RidgeCo, and now that’s gone. I’ll probably never see him again. He was so good to me, too, when I just started, making sure I was set. He taught me a couple of things, and he stuck up for me.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out with a shudder. “Maybe that’s what made me think he’s a nice guy. I never should have abandoned my original plan.” It doesn’t come out very convincing, even to my own ears.

Paris frowns at me. “He does sound like a nice guy,” she says.

“And hot. God, if you could see this guy. But he’s out of the picture now, and good riddance.” A little bit of the anger returns and I embrace it. I prefer it over all the other things I’m feeling. Anger makes me feel like I can handle everything.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Well, I’m not going to see him again, that’s for sure.”

Paris smiles. “I meant about a job.”

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. Our coffee arrives and we stop talking while the waitress puts our cups in front of us. When she’s gone I pour sugar and milk into my coffee and stir it.

“Maybe I apply as a receptionist somewhere else.”

“With your MBA?” Paris asks. “I’m sure you deserve more than that. Hell, I don’t even have a job or a qualification or anything and I think I deserve more than that.”

I shake my head. “But I’ve been fired from a good position. If I apply to another they’re going to ask why and I’ll never get the job. I’m worried I got the job because of Wes, anyway, and no other reason. He just hired me so he could fuck me over in the first place. I guess I should congratulate him. He managed to do it, after all.”

Paris leans her elbows on the table and sips her coffee carefully.

“I can’t tell if you’re mad at him or yourself.”

“What? No. Him. Obviously. He’s the reason I’m in this mess. I mean, I am, too, but if he wasn’t so damn hot.”

I know I sound stupid so I stop talking and sip my coffee.

The beignets arrive and they look fantastic. Paris was right, I’m about to eat my emotions and I might as well do it properly.

“God, this is good,” I say, biting into the delicious, sugary dough. “Comfort food makes everything better.”

Paris nods, eating, too, and for a while we just sit together.

“You liked what you did?” Paris asks.

I look up at her. “The project managing?”

She nods.

“Yeah,” I say. “A lot. And I was good at it, too. Wes told me that my ideas were better than anything he’s seen, and that’s saying something, considering how many projects he’s overseen the last while.”

Paris smiles and shakes her head, looking at the food she’s eating. I frown at her.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s nothing,” she says. “You don’t want to hear it.”

I groan. “Obviously, now I do. What? Tell me.”

Paris sighs and reaches for her coffee.

“Well, you’re talking about him a lot,” she says.

I blink at her. “Of course. He’s responsible for all of this.”

Paris shakes her head. “I hear you, but you’re saying lot of good things about him, too. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“What?” I ask, lowering the beignet I was about to sink my teeth into. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Paris shakes her head. “I’m not. I’m just looking at you raving about how terrible this guy is and then finding something to redeem him, every time.”

I shake my head back and forth. There’s no way I’m in love with him. I don’t date. I don’t do relationships and love and all that. I’ve seen how it can ruin someone’s life. My mom and dad are perfect examples. Relationships never end well. If it wasn’t for my gran, I don’t think my mom and I would have gotten through it. I told myself I would never follow in her footsteps. If you don’t fall in love, your heart can’t be broken.

I focused on my studies, instead, and it was so much more rewarding than a relationship.

“I’m not in love with him,” I say again.

Paris is smiling. “Whatever you say, Ky.”

She can’t be right. I won’t accept that. It’s bad enough that Wes has been my downfall, that I was unable to resist him and that I’m in this hole in my life, now. I can’t be in love with the man, too. My life would be a lie then.

But of course, I’ve already done so many things I never thought I would do. And I liked it. I fucked him, repeatedly, and I wanted more. And now?

Now I’m sitting here, eating comfort food, talking about a man that I shouldn’t be thinking about twice if he really doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s out of my life, after all.

But Paris is right. I know she is. I hate her for it – she’s always had a knack for knowing how I feel before I do – but with this, I don’t want her to be right. I can’t afford to be in love with this man. Or any man. My life is in shambles, and he’s a spoiled, rich ass.

A very handsome, fucking-good-in-bed ass. That I admittedly wish I didn’t have to walk away from.

But this mess that I’m in because of him is exactly the reason I shouldn’t be with him or love him or even think about any of those things. Because men are nothing more than heartaches.

“I’m better off without him,” I say to Paris, but I sound so unconvincing that I don’t even believe myself.

Wes

When I leave breakfast with Hendricks, I know exactly what I need to do. He gave me back my job as CEO, but there is something more that needs to be done. If anyone asked me a week ago if I would go this route, I would have fought against it tooth and nail, but it’s amazing what a woman will do to a man.

This isn’t just about my career. It’s about Kylie Jordan, the woman who managed to change my life by being herself. I didn’t think I would ever trust a woman again, but she’s something else, and I need to make it right. I need to make it work for her, at least, even if I can’t make it happen for myself.

Hendricks is a reasonable man. When I told him how I felt about everything that happened and how it placed Kylie at a disadvantage, Hendricks didn’t seem very worried, even knowing what happened all those years ago with her mother. When I told him how I felt about her, he didn’t care all that much. When I showed him her work, he was interested. Everyone has something that tugs at their heartstrings. For Hendricks, it’s passion for your work.

Kylie is the definition of passion and dedication to her career.

I’m headed to Alamo Square Park where Hendricks’s assistant has gotten reporters from all the major news stations together. I have something I need to say to the masses. As the CEO for RidgeCo, I’ve appeared in public on behalf of the company often enough that this is the one place where I might be able to make a difference.

When I arrive at the podium, the microphones are set up, and a group of reporters, news readers and cameramen are clustered in front of it.

This isn’t my first rodeo, but for the first time, I’m nervous. It’s the first time I’m saying something this serious. It’s the first time I really care about how my speech is going to be received.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say when I step onto the podium. Mics and recording devices are shoved in my direction. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice. As you all know I’ve been CEO at RidgeCo for a few years, now. Recently, I was involved in allegations of a sexual nature. Whether these were true or not, it jeopardized my career and that of a woman that was involved as well.”

“Who is she?” someone asks.

“Kylie Jordan is a new project manager. I hired her to join the team, and from day one she did everything in her power to make the project run as smoothly as possible.”

“We heard about the scandal,” another reporter says, “are the allegations true?”

I take a deep breath. This is it, the moment of truth.

“Yes,” I say. “They are. But it is through no fault of Miss Jordan, and if anyone should be punished, it’s me. She insisted that it was wrong, but I’m too stubborn for my own good. The truth is…” I hesitate because I’m about to make a confession I’ve only recently admitted to myself. “I’m in love with her. When you know, you know, and it’s impossible to stay away from someone.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, and I see pens scribble on paper at a furious rate.

“Does that mean that company rules can be broken for the pursuit of love?” someone from the back asks.

I shake my head. “Absolutely, not. Which is why I’m resigning as CEO of RidgeCo.”

Chatter erupts, and I give them some time to wrap their mind around the news. Truth be told, I’m still working on accepting my decision.

“What will happen to her?” someone asks.

“That’s all,” I say because I don’t know how to answer all the questions. Kylie isn’t speaking to me. When I step off the podium, I take a deep breath. No matter what happens now, I think I did the right thing.

And that’s all that matters, even when it’s a little late.

I get in my car, and I’m on my way home when my phone rings. Kylie’s name pops up on the caller ID, and I can’t believe she wants to speak to me, now.

“Can I see you?” she asks when I answer. It’s more than I bargained for.

“Of course,” I say. “Come over to my place.”

“I’m already at your place,” she says and hangs up.

I step on the gas to get home as soon as possible. I’m thrilled she wants to talk to me face to face. When she walked away from me in the lobby, not even looking over her shoulder at me, I was sure I would never see her again. The idea ripped me apart.

When I park my car and walk to the front door, she’s waiting for me. She’s dressed in jeans and a tank top with ballet flats. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail, and I realize I’ve never seen her this casual. RidgeCo is a top-notch company, and she looked put-together even when she was a receptionist.

She’s beautiful like this – her raw beauty shining through. I like this so much more than all the jewelry and makeup and dressy clothes.

“Thank you for seeing me,” I say when I reach her. Her arms are folded over her chest like she needs to physically hold herself together and I can’t tell the emotion on her face.

“I got a call from Mr. Hendricks earlier,” she says. “He’s offering me my job back.”

I’m relieved. I needed Hendricks to do this, and he came through for me. He’s a solid man.

“I’m so happy for you,” I say. I know she had a difficult past and that money is more of an object than it should be. I am relieved that she as her income back, now.

She hesitates. I unlock my front door and hold it open for her, letting her step in first. She does so without thinking about it twice. After we’re inside the door, and I close it, I turn around to find her with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I saw you on television, earlier,” she says. “I heard what you said.”

“I hope you know that I mean it,” I say.

She swallows and nods. The first tears spill over her cheeks.

“I know. I didn’t think you felt that way about me. I mean, after everything we did.”

I shake my head and put my hand on her cheek. “Darling girl, you’ve managed to crawl under my skin when I least expected it. I am in love with you.”

She smiles, and more tears roll down her cheeks.

“That’s why I’m here,” she says. “I heard it, and I want you to know something.” I look into her eyes, and they’re drowning in tears.

“I love you, too,” Kylie says.

I don’t know how it happened that this woman became as important to me as she is, but my heart warms when she tells me she loves me, too.

I pull her close to me and kiss her, my hand on her cheek. Her body is pressed flush against mine, and I can feel every curve, from the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hips. But that’s not what it’s about right now. I want to be with her, and not just for sex. I want her to be my girlfriend. By some miracle, ten years after my heart was ripped out and spat on, I fell in love again.

She puts her arms around my neck, and I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. She parts her lips and my tongue slides into her mouth. She tastes familiar, and I realize that this feeling – with her tongue in my mouth and her body pressed tightly against mine – is home.

I pull her into the living room, and we collapse on the couch in a tangle of limbs. We make out like teenagers, feeling and touching carefully as if we’re unsure if the other will break. Her kiss is different – gentle and passionate and so much more intimate than it’s ever been before – and I think it’s about the emotion behind it. For the first time, I feel what it means to truly love someone.

My hand roams her body, because I can’t help it. She’s so hot, her curves are pressed against my body and I wanted to touch and love every inch of her. This is more than about sex – although sex with her is fucking fantastic. It’s about being with her. It’s about our connection. It’s about loving her and knowing that she loves me back.

Of course, I can’t help but get hard. Her body is pressed up against mine, and I’m kissing her. Our kissing becomes more passionate, more urgent. She gyrates her hips, and I know she can feel me. She grinds against me, and I’m overwhelmed by the need to be inside her.

I break the kiss and take her hand, leading her to my bedroom. I want her, and I want her now. When we’re in the room, I lay her down on the bed and crawl over her, kissing her again. I work my way down her, moving her clothes here and there to plant kisses on her bare skin in a trail down her body.

I undo her pants and peel her jeans down her legs one by one. When I’ve gotten rid of her pants, I run my hands up her smooth legs. She’s got the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen.

Her panties are next to go, and I slowly move them down her legs as well. I drop them on the floor with the jeans.

I spread her thighs with my hands and kneel between her legs. I dip my head between her legs and lick her pussy lips.

She’s already wet. Her scent is intoxicating, making me dizzy and when I drag my tongue up her slit, her taste is sweet, the taste of sex.

She gasps when I flick my tongue over her clit. I pay attention to her clit for a while, flicking my tongue over her. Then, I close my lips over her clit and suck. She cries out. I know she loves it when I do this. I push a finger into her, and she gasps, squirming against my mouth and my hand.

I want to keep doing this to her, but I want to be more involved, too. She’s half-naked and half-orgasmic. I want both of us to get there all the way. I let her go and peel the shirt I wore to the press conference off my body. I get rid of my pants and my boxers.

When I’m naked, Kylie is, too. She got undressed when I did, and she’s naked on my bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I say.

She blushes. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the red flush on her cheeks. She’s so beautiful when she blushes and when she smiles. When she does anything. And she’s so sincere.

I crawl onto the bed again, straddling her but the wrong way around so that her head is between my legs. I dip my head again and lick her pussy. She gets the idea without me telling her we’re going to do sixty-nine. She takes my cock into her mouth, and I have to concentrate to lick her and have her suck me at the same time without affecting how well I’m taking care of her.

Kylie

Wes is on top of me, but I don’t feel pinned or trapped. I love it when he takes control like this. We’ve been through a lot together, and a part of me feels vulnerable. Losing my job, getting it back again, being humiliated and having Wes declare his love for me – all in one day – takes its toll on my emotions. But he told me he loves me, and I believe him. He makes me feel safe because I know now he’s serious about me and I’m serious about him, too.

His cock is in my mouth, but I’m struggling to concentrate on sucking him off the way I usually do because his mouth is on my clit, licking and sucking. My body shudders involuntarily, and I squirm beneath him. When I’m lying straight, his cock is thick and long in my mouth and when he bucks his hips slightly – he’s careful not to do it too much – he pushes down my throat. Once he’s past my soft pallet, I don’t have the urge to gag.

He pumps into me slowly, fucking my mouth while he eats me out and it’s hot.

I move my head to the side now and then when I need air. The more he licks me and sucks on my clit the closer I get to an orgasm, and I can’t concentrate on what I’m doing anymore. I abandon his cock and close my eyes. Wes’s body hovers over mine, and I can feel his heat, but I’m focused on the sensation between my legs, the muscles clenching at my core.

I’m buzzing. Blood rushes in my ears, and I forget about everything around us. For a while, it’s just me and Wes and what he’s doing to my body. I’m on my back beneath him, legs spread wide for him and he licks at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

The orgasm creeps closer, and I moan louder and louder. I love when I’m at his place, and I don’t have to be quiet. I’m not a quiet person in bed. It’s something I’ve learned about myself, and I know that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to be completely quiet.

Wes knows this about me, and he seems to love it unless we’re in a place where I need to be quiet. He doesn’t hesitate to remind me.

I stop thinking again. The orgasm gets bigger and bigger. My body goes numb, and I can feel the heat between my legs. It’s building, becoming larger and larger. I’m filling up like a cup of hot water, and soon I’m going to spill over.

Wes doesn’t mind that I’m not sucking him off the way he intended when he crawled over me into this position. He seems more than happy to keep at it, licking my pussy, sucking my clit. I gasp and squirm, my breathing coming out in erratic bursts. I reach up and wrap my arms around his thighs.

The orgasm washes over me moments later, and I cry out. I tighten my arms around his legs as my body spasms, and my muscles clench throughout my body. My legs close around his head but he’s relentless, his tongue lapping at me even though I’m pinching him between my legs. I move my hips back and forth, fucking his mouth, his tongue.

When the orgasm subsides, I breathe hard, and I’m suddenly sensitive. I squirm, and Wes seems to know because he lifts himself up and off me. I lie on the bed, gasping, in a puddle of sweat and cum.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe, and Wes smiles at me. His smile is full of potential.

Wes lies down on the bed next to me. I turn my head to him, and he kisses me, first a peck and then with tongue. The kiss doesn’t last very long. He puts his hand on my hip and turns me onto my side so that my back is toward him. He runs his hand along the contours of my body, tracing my curves. I turn my head and look up at him. He’s studying my body like he hasn’t seen me naked before.

His cock is hard and smooth, all at the same time and he presses it against my ass cheeks. I shudder. The thick flesh is hot, and I want it inside of me.

I back up, pressing my ass into his crotch and wiggle it. He gets the idea. His hand is on my ass cheek, and he squeezes it before he guides himself to my entrance.

I’m very wet, and when he pushes into me, he slides in with little effort. I’m tight after orgasming, and I’m sensitive, but it’s pure pleasure, and I moan as he slides into me. I lean forward a little bit more so that I’m at an angle to his body. He slides in and out easier this way. Wes picks up the pace and starts fucking me. His hips move, and I can feel him as he pushes into me harder and harder. His balls don’t slap against my ass, yet, but I can feel them when he slides into me.

He’s larger than usual because of how tight I am. The friction is fantastic, and I’m aware of how big he is and how well he handles himself. He puts his one hand on my shoulder and the other hand on my hip, holding me in place. When he does, he picks up his pace and pumps into me harder and harder.

I cry out, gasping and moaning loudly. He slides in and out of me with slippery strokes, and I’m getting an echo of the orgasm. My eyes are squeezed shut, and I have the sheets on his bed bunched in my hands as something to hold onto while he fucks me in the spooning position.

His hand moves from my hip, sliding up my body. He finds my tit and squeezes it. His fingers find my nipple, and he pinches it lightly, rolling me between his fingers in the way that he usually does. It feels good every time, and I gasp.

Wes stops moving, his cock still inside of me and leans his body against mine. It pushes me forward so that I’m lying on my stomach. When he rolls onto me, he’s still inside of me. There’s something very intimate about Wes covering my entire body with his and the weight that comes with it. He doesn’t put his full weight on me, obviously, but I feel the pressure is just right. When he starts moving his hips again, sliding in and out of me, his weight on my back pushes the air out of my lungs along with the rhythm he’s building in my pussy.

The strokes are slow and languid, and he grazes against my G-spot every time. It’s just this side of uncomfortable – the G-spot usually is – but I love the sensation. My face is pressed half into the mattress, and I’m helpless. It’s a turn on. He’s in complete control, and he can do anything to me.

The thrill comes from the idea that he could, but I know that he won’t. I trust him that much.

He fucks me like this for a while, rocking his body back and forth on mine. The motion creates a deep, heavy breathing that he matches in my ear, and I shiver with his hot breath against my skin. He runs his hand down the side of my body, and it tickles a little. I squirm, but when I do he pushes deeper into me, and it’s like a little game. He tries to get me to squirm, and I try not to. When I do, he pounds into me harder, which is really what I want, anyway. It’s a win-win for the both of us.

After a while, Wes pushes himself up so that his body weight isn’t on me anymore. He pulls my hips up with his hand and positions a pillow beneath my hips, but it’s further down than I think it should be. I’m about to say something when his hand reaches around me, and he finds my clit with his fingers.

Right. That’s why he put the pillow where he did.

I jump, my clit is still sensitive after he made me orgasm the first time. Wes knows what he’s doing, and instead of uncomfortable, the feeling is intense but erotic.

His cock is still inside me, and he pumps in and out of me. His fingers focus on my clit, drawing circles around it. Echoes of the first orgasm – or a precursor to the second – find me, and I shiver, my muscles already contracting in anticipation. Wes is working his fingers on my clit faster and faster, keeping his strokes with his cock slow so I can concentrate on my clit rather than on what he’s doing inside of me.

I close my eyes and give myself over to the sensation. My body rocks back and forth on the bed, my skin brushing against the sheets, and I’m caught in the mesmerizing combination of his hand on my clit and his cock inside of me, rubbing against my G-spot. It pushes me closer and closer to another orgasm.

It grows inside me like a flame that’s coaxed to life. It burns brighter and brighter until the heat inside me is so great I explode. The orgasm shatters through me, so much more intense now that he’s been stroking my G-spot, and I cry out. My body is pinned down so I can’t curl into a ball and my muscles spasm and contract, fighting my position. It’s all that much more intense because of it.

Wes’s cheek is against mine, and our breathing is in sync. I gasp and moan, letting the orgasm spill over me and sweep me away before it finally subsides.

I like it when I lose control like this with him. I like how he takes me to places I haven’t been before.

Wes and I have had raucous sex multiple times, but this time is different. Maybe it’s because of our confessions of love. Maybe it’s after everything we’ve been through. Maybe it’s because finally, everything will work out okay.

Wes pulls out of me, and I feel his absence acutely. He lies down next to me and pulls me against him, cuddling me. We’re not done yet – he’s rock hard, and I won’t mind another orgasm or two – but it’s nice to be held.

Wes

Kylie doesn’t lie in my arms for very long. She kisses me, and it turns from loving to hot in only a few seconds. She makes out with me, tracing my bottom lip with her tongue. She nudges me so that I lie on my back and climbs onto me, straddling me.

I love it when she’s on top of me. I love a lot of positions, but this is one of my favorites.

She sits down on me, but I’m not inside her. Instead, her pussy is spread over my cock, and she slides up and down, rubbing the length of me along her slit. The feeling is great – we’re both slick with our sex, and she’s teasing me, driving me crazy. I want to be inside of her, but she’s on top of me, and she’s in control.

Kylie sides up and down my cock. She gasps, and I get the idea she’s sensitive after her orgasms. I don’t blame her. I like it, though. She gets tight after she orgasms, and I love it when her body clamps around my cock.

I’m just about to lose my shit with her teasing me when she presses my cock upright with her fingers and slides onto me. She gasps when I push into her, and I groan. The feeling of her walls clamping down around me tells me just how tight she is after orgasming and I love it.

She moves around a little, adjusting to the angle. Her hands are on my pectorals. Her tits are round and perfect, naked on her chest with her hair hanging down on either side of them, framing her body.

I reach up for her tits, squeezing one in each hand.

She starts moving her hips back and forth, riding me. I slide in and out of her, and the sensation is erotic. I am not going to come just yet, but God, I want to. She picks up the pace and fucks me faster. Her hips rock back and forth, her knees rubbing against the sheets beneath us. Her tits jiggle in my hands as she bucks her hips faster and faster.

I groan. She’s so good at this.

She leans forward more and her hands press into my pecs. At this angle, she can lift her ass, and she does so, lifting herself off my cock for the most part before sitting back down on me, doing a booty bounce. She bounces on top of me, going faster and faster. Now that she’s leaning forward her tits swing back and forth as she rides me. I let go of her tits and watch them swinging. It’s hypnotizing.

The faster she rides me the closer I’m getting to an orgasm. Just before I’m there – she must be able to tell when I’m close – she lies down on top of me so that her tits mash against my chest. Her head is against my neck, and she licks and kisses and nibbles the skin on my neck. I get goosebumps from it.

Her breathing changes, her gasping picking up and she starts to moan and whimper. I realize that she’s rubbing her clit against my pubic bone while she’s riding me. My cock slides in and out of her, and she’s rubbing herself up against my pubic bone. She’s going to bring herself to orgasm this way.

I want to come, too. She’s not going fast enough for me.

I put my hands on her hips and lift her just enough that I have some space to move. I start bucking my hips beneath her, pounding into her. I pick up the pace, going as fast as I can and I’m like a jackhammer, slamming into her. She gasps and cries out, lying on my chest and letting me take control even though she’s on top of me.

I’m getting closer and closer. I’m going to come, soon. It’s what I want, but I want to come at the same time she does.

I let her take over again. She pushes up so that she can go faster and she rocks her hips back and forth, picking up with my pace almost as fast as where I left off. It’s not what I did, but it’s enough, and a moment later, I feel my balls tighten the way they do just before I release.

Kylie squeezes her eyes shut and cries out. Her walls clamp down on me and she orgasms, her muscles contracting. She collapses onto my chest, and I start fucking her from beneath again. I’m so close to the edge now it doesn’t take any time at all before I orgasm, too, and then we’re crying out and orgasming together.

Her body contracts at the same speed as mine, her walls milking my cock as I jerk inside of her and she shudders on top of me. It feels like it lasts forever.

Finally, the orgasm subsides, and we lie in a pile of limbs, breathing hard. Our skin is slick with sweat where we touch each other. Her hair is fanned over my chest, and I feel her tits as she breathes hard. Her heart hammers against my ribs.

I put my hands on her back and lightly tickle my fingers over her skin. She makes a humming sound and the sound dances across my skin.

I don’t know how long we lie like this, but eventually, I get soft and I start slipping out of her. When she feels it, she lifts herself up and climbs off me.

She lies down next to me, and I pull her against me. Her body fits against mine like we were made to be together. She puts her head on my chest, nestling into the crook of my arm and I like holding her like this. I realize how much smaller she is than me when I hold her like this. It makes me feel like the boss, protective of my woman.

We lie together in silence for a while. I listen to her breathing as it evens out and becomes deeper.

“Are you sleeping?” I ask.

“No,” she says in a sleepy voice. “Not yet.”

I smile. She opens her eyes, and the irises are a deep brown. She smiles at me.

“I was just thinking,” she says.

“About what?” I ask.

She shrugs. “About how everything worked out for us. When I got promoted, this was the last thing I expected would happen.”

I nod. I knew she was hot – God knew I’d lusted after her since she walked into my office that day – but to think that we would be together and in love seemed impossible at the time, especially considering we were both out to take each other down.

“I won’t mind doing this every day,” I say to her.

“What? The sex?” she asks.

I smile. “Yeah, for sure. But not just that. Being with you. Falling asleep and waking up with you again. I want to do this with you.”

Kylie smiles, and it’s a beautiful smile that brings light to her eyes.

“I think I want to do this every day, too.”

We smile at each other, but a moment later her smile turns into a frown.

“What will you do, now?” she asks. “You quit your job after you got it back.”

I shrug. “It’s just a job. I can be CEO anywhere. I have the experience and the credentials and everything. Maybe I’ll start my own company. But, honestly, I have you, and that’s all that matters to me. If I had to give up being the CEO of a company to have you, I would do it every time.”

She smiles at me and her cheeks are becoming rosy again.

“You’re adorable when you blush,” I say, which just makes her blush that much more.

“I’m mean it, you know,” I carry on. “I don’t care what I do as long as I have you.”

She puts her hand on my chest. “I feel the same,” she says

“But you still have your job, which is great.”

She nods.

Everything is working out for the best. I’m not worried. I’m sure I can find something else. I have enough money to survive for a while, and I have Kylie. That’s all I need.

“I love you,” I say.

She nods and smiles.

“I love you, too,” she says.

When she says it, warmth washes through my body. I don’t know where we’re headed together. It’s only at the beginning stages and thinking about something long term isn’t necessary, not yet. But I want to be with Kylie because she’s everything all the women before, weren’t. She’s smart and funny and kind. She’s caring and understanding, and she’s not high maintenance at all. Her independence is attractive and her dedication to her work is to be commended. But one of her best traits is that she has it in her to love me.

That makes her the perfect woman, and once you find the perfect woman you’re not supposed to let her go.

So, I’m going to hold onto her very tightly.

Epilogue - As Told by Kylie

One year later

Everything turned out the way it should. I’m working for RidgeCo, and I’m making enough money to make it on my own, pay off my student loan, be as independent as I like to be, and take care of my mom. My gran passed away this past winter. I still ache when I think about her – the woman that took us in when we were in the worst place in our lives – but she had a good life, and I was able to make sure she was comfortable in the end.

Now, my mom has an apartment just outside the city, and she can relax about money because I have more than enough for the both of us.

It may have taken me longer than expected, but I got what I was working toward. I made something of myself.

Wes and I are still dating. We’re better than ever, in fact. We spent so much time together sleeping at each other’s apartments that it seemed easier just to move in together. I had clothes at his place, and he had some at mine, and it just made sense to take that leap.

We’ve been living together for six months, now, and it seems to be working out well.

I was nervous to give up my independence. I’m still worried about what love might bring me when thinking about my father and the cheating bastard that he is. But I’m willing to give Wes a shot because he’s a respectable guy and he deserves it. I told him about my past and my fears, and he goes out of his way to reassure me when I need it.

Besides, he’s still fucking good in bed. It shouldn’t matter – and in the grand scheme of things it’s the person I love, not the sex – but it plays a role.

After Wes’s dramatic press release and his resignation from RidgeCo as CEO because he loved me, almost every large company in the city wanted him. It’s ironic how popular he became overnight. He ended up taking a job with Rocket Enterprises, and he’s pulling the company up from where it was when he started. I will always maintain he has the Midas touch.

I’m senior manager at RidgeCo, now, the job that Leon held once upon a time. I’m good at my job, too. I was born to do this. It might have taken a long time for me to get where I needed to be, but now that I’m there I couldn’t be happier.

As for Leon, we heard through the grapevine that his wife passed away. Her life insurance paid out, and he retired with the money. Despite all that happened with him, I do feel bad. He was loyal to his wife in the face of some really hard things. I still see Bradley around from time to time – we go to the same places when we go out – but we purposely ignore each other as if we’ve never been anything other than complete strangers. I guess it’s accurate enough – other than his gossip to his father that jeopardized my career, he’s nothing to me.

The new CEO at RidgeCo calls me in on Friday. I walk to his office. It’s the same one Wes used to have, and when I walk inside of it, I still get flashes of the sex we had in here once upon a time. The new CEO has no idea, and I prefer to keep it that way. It’s my secret, and now that it’s all behind us, I can laugh about it.

“Miss Jordan,” Donovan Miles says when I open his door. “Come in.” He’s tall and skinny with horn-rimmed glasses and acne even though he’s got to be in his mid-thirties. His friends call him Donny, and he looks a lot less tough than he is. He’s an effective boss, though, and the company is doing well under his rule.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask.

Miles nods. “I want to talk to you about the project.”

I sit down in one of the chairs opposite Miles and fold my hands in my lap.

“I’m very pleased with your work. Very pleased.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

“I want to give you a bonus for it. You’ll see it on your next paycheck, but I just wanted to call you in and tell you that I’m happy with your work.”

I smile and thank him again. When he dismisses me, I leave the office.

I phone Wes the moment I’m back in my own office.

“This calls for a celebration,” he says. “Dinner at eight, tonight. Wear something sexy.”

“For you, always,” I say, and I hang up.

I’m busy with my makeup when Wes comes home. He stops at the bedroom door and whistles through his teeth when he sees me.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

I’m wearing a red dress that clings to my curves without being too revealing. Less is always more. Wes walks toward me, oozing sex appeal. He always looks so hot in his suits. He pulls me against him and kisses me. I can feel him getting hard against me.

“It makes me want to take you right here,” he says between kisses. My breathing is already changing.

“We can always stay in and celebrate in other ways,” I say when he moves his lips onto my neck. But Wes stops kissing me and shakes his head.

“I made reservations.”

That has never mattered before, but if he wants to go out and spoil his girlfriend, I won’t say no. We’ll just have to leave sex for later. My nipples are hard against the padding of my bra, and I’m wet, but I can hold out.

I know that I have a hell of a lot I’m holding out, for.

We go to Gary Danko, a French restaurant with light, cozy décor and a tasty menu. We eat dinner together, drink wine, talk about everything and anything. Being with Wes is always comfortable. Since we started dating it’s like we belong together.

When it’s time for dessert, I complain that I’ve eaten too much.

“Let’s just go home, my love,” I say to him.

“Just a bit of dessert,” Wes says. He’s insisting. He’s acting a little strange tonight. I finally give in, and he orders the seasonal sorbet.

When the dessert arrives, it’s beautifully presented.

“This looks great,” I say to him. He watches me as I start eating. I take one bite and then another. The third bite has something hard in it, and I frown, taking my napkin and pulling it out of my mouth. A golden ring glitters in my hand. I wipe it off with the napkin.

“What’s this?” I ask. When I look up at Wes, he’s not in his seat anymore, but kneeling on the ground.

“Marry me,” he says. “I love you. Be mine forever.”

It’s so simple, so straightforward and tears well up in my eyes. I nod. “Yes,” I say.

Wes takes the ring and slips it onto my finger. It’s beautiful – a princess cut with diamonds set around it into the band and it fits perfectly.

I kiss him. He stands up, pulling me into him, pressing his body against mine. He’s just as turned on as he was when we were at home, and my body responds immediately. I want him.

“I want you, now,” I say.

Wes looks around. We’re in a classy restaurant. He calls for the check and pays for the meal before he takes me with him to the entrance where a coat check girl is reading a book.

“What are you checking in?” she asks.

“Us,” Wes says, and he slides a couple of bills across the counter to her. She glances up at the manager that sweeps past us in a hurry before she takes the bills.

“Only a couple of minutes,” she says.

“It’s all I need,” Wes says and pulls me into the closet.

“What are you doing?” I ask. We’re acting like teenagers when we have a home to go to and a bed we can fuck in all night.

“Keeping it fun,” he says, and he’s right.

The thrill of being caught reminds me of the sex we had in the office so many months ago. Any moment, we can be caught, and that makes it feel so much more fun, even though the sex is always perfect at home. Wes presses me against the coats that are lined up along the one wall, and we’re engulfed in the smells of other people, perfume hugging us.

Wes doesn’t waste time. He hikes up my dress, pulls down my panties far enough to give himself space and brushes his fingers against my pussy.

“You’re so wet,” he says.

“You sound surprised,” I whisper. I’m already out of breath, my skin tingling, my body aching for a release.

He grins at me, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I know you’re my little office slut.”

It’s a running joke between us. I don’t have time to laugh at it. His fingers circle my clit a few times, and I gasp before he pushes his fingers into me. I gasp. He finger fucks me for a short while. I reach into his pants and pump my hand up and down around his cock.

When he lets go of me, I can focus on undoing his pants, and I free his cock. It’s hard and eager, and I want it inside of me.

Wes hikes up my leg and holds it up, pressing me against the cushioning wall of coats. His other hand is on my breast, massaging me through the material.

“We don’t have much time,” he says in a throaty growl.

“Best do it quick then,” I say. I’m already breathing hard. The thrill has me on the edge already, and Wes is so hot and demanding I love it.

He pushes himself into me without much ceremony and I’m so wet he slides right in. I gasp. I’ll never get used to the size and the feel of him.

He starts pumping into me, fucking me hard. I moan, and he lets go of my breast, clamping a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, instead.

It’s hot. He’s pinning me against the coats with his hand over my mouth, and I can’t help but want more domination. I want him to take me.

As if he knows what I’m thinking he fucks me as hard as he wants to, slamming into me. I am so close to the edge it’s driving me crazy. He grunts and groans softly as he pounds into me. He was right when he said he didn’t need a lot of time. In no time at all, he pushes me over the edge, and I orgasm. It’s hot and heavy, washing over me, blinding me for a moment. His hand is firmly in place over my mouth, and I gasp through my nose. My orgasm kickstarts his, and he empties himself out inside me, pumping and jerking. He shudders when he’s done, and slowly he uncovers my mouth. We’re both breathing hard.

“Let’s get out of here,” Wes says. “I want to take you in every position I can, and we don’t have time for that, here.”

I nod. He pulls out of me and lets me go. I’m unsteady on my feet. I bend down and pull my underwear back on. I don’t have time to clean up, but I don’t mind the wet mess in my panties. We’re going home, and I’m getting more of that.

Wes pops his head out of the closet and pulls me with him a moment later. The coat check girl looks smug as if she’s happy with her end of the bargain. Wes and I walk hand in hand out of the restaurant and back to the car.

There’s never a dull moment with him, and I’m sure we’re going to keep having this kind of fun. I lift my hand and look at the ring that sparkles in the dim lighting.

I can’t wait for the rest of our lives together.