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Michael
After I return from lunch, Katie’s face is pink as she peers at her computer screen. I make a mental note to ask her what projects she works on during lunch that fluster her so much.
Then I wonder if she’d blush like that if she was under me. I instantly force myself to dismiss the thought. No matter how many times I think about her, it’d be wrong to pursue her.
But that doesn’t mean that I’m not taking cold showers because of her. Or adding countless hours to my gym sessions. Anything to avoid picturing her in those vintage clothes she wears.
She always looks like a fifties housewife that stepped out to run a few errands. It torments me the way lace peeks out from under those little dresses. Every time I see it, I think about sticking my head under my skirt and seeing if she wears matching white lace panties.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Morgan?” She looks up at me and asks the question in a breathy tone.
I realize I’ve been standing here and staring as I imagine dragging her into my office and closing the blinds. I’d bend her over my desk, pull up that little dress and finally satisfy my sick curiosity.
Since I can’t do any of that, I clear my throat. I scramble to think of something that would be a reasonable explanation for why I’m staring. “The…the contract. Did you send it to me?”
“Of course.” She taps a pen against her keyboard, all nervous energy.
I stride into my office. Sitting in my chair, I remind myself of all the reasons that I shouldn’t be thinking of Katie.
Namely, that she’s about my daughter’s age, she works for my company, and she’s too innocent for someone like me. All reasons that I have to walk the straight and narrow.
I open my email and accept the document she sent me without bothering to glance at the title.
Kitty’s stomach clenched as Michael stepped closer, the heat from his body warming her. He was wearing that one mischievous expression that usually ended in a quickie on his office desk.
Keeping quiet during those moments was a challenge and she loved it when he’d put his hand over her mouth to muffle her desperate moans while he rammed his cock into her tight body.
I move back to my email and check the document name, Dirty Contract. It’s definitely not what I asked for.
Does Katie read this?
The thought of her reading this dirty material excites me more than I want to admit. Maybe because I’m imagining her alone in her bed late at night. Her phone in one hand, the other inching closer to the apex of her thighs.
Stop thinking about her.
“Ms. Hunter,” I call, trying to keep my voice normal. But it comes out wrong, too deep for a casual conversation.
She’s in my office a second later. She licks her ruby red lips and asks in a voice that’s too damn seductive for the workplace. “Yes, Mr. Morgan?”
Suddenly, it makes sense. The blush that’s always on her cheeks during lunch. She’s reading dirty books, not working on some intense company project.
I open my mouth to tell her what she sent me then change my mind. Nothing good will come from mentioning it. “The Wagner Contract didn’t come through. I need it again.”
Her expression makes it clear she doesn’t believe me. She thinks I lost it already. She puts a hand on her hip, which causes the button on the top of her dress to gape. “It didn’t come through?”
I catch a glimpse of a lacy white bra and fight the urge to groan. Not for the first time, I wonder if she even knows how sexy she is. How damn irresistible that fiery red lipstick is or how much it makes me want to kiss her.
She mutters something about inbox zero and disappears to send me a fresh email with the document.
It appears without a problem and I spend the rest of the day reviewing it. Or at least, I pretend to.
But my focus keeps going back to that dirty book. I get the distinct feeling that I’m missing something.
2
KATIE
“Do you have my fix for me?” Lacey asks, glancing toward Michael’s door. It’s firmly closed, which is unusual for him. Normally, he works with the door open.
