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“I can’t believe that I didn’t do that the day you walked into my office the first time.”
“You’re my boss,” she says, but this time it doesn’t read like an objection.
I cup her face and force her gaze to mine. “Does that turn you on?”
“I’m not telling you that I’m turned on by you being my boss.”
“Why not? It’s me. It’s us.”
“There is no us.”
“Isn’t there?” I challenge.
“No,” she says, “because, damn you, you are my boss.” She motions to the room. “And we’re doing this in some person’s office, which proves what a horrible, horrible influence you are. What are you doing to me?”
“Nothing you aren’t doing to me, Lori.”
“Then what are we doing?”
Her cell phone rings. “The cupcakes,” she says, twisting around to try to locate her phone, grabbing it somewhere behind her to answer the call. “Hello, Mr. White?” She scoots forward on the desk and I help her down, easing her skirt over her hips as she continues on her call with, “Yes. Yes. Two hundred, and coffee with condiments. Perfect. Credit card. Right.” She turns and starts hunting for it.
I find it on the floor and snatch it up, offering it to her. She accepts it while I lean in and kiss her, a quick, deep slide of tongue, letting her taste herself on my lips. When our lips part, and I pull back, she gives me this sexy, doe-eyed look that makes me want to pull her skirt up again.
“You there, Lori?” someone on the phone line asks.
“Yes,” she says, cutting her gaze from mine. “I have the credit card number.” She reads it off to him, and then listens a minute, giving him instructions before she disconnects and announces, “We have cupcakes and coffee.”
“I’m sure there will be a lot of satisfied guests.” My hands settle on her waist. “But you are what satisfies me, and by the time tonight’s over, you’re going to know that.” I hold up her panties and stick them in my pocket. “The rest of the room won’t know I own you tonight, but now you do.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Lori
He owns me.
I stand in the bathroom off the hallway I’ve now made out with my boss in, I stare at my smudged makeup and wild hair, and decide that statement is as honest as it gets.
He owns me.
Good Lord, I all but admitted to being turned on by him being my boss. And I was. I didn’t think that could be possible, but in that office that I barely even saw for the distraction of his tongue, I was most definitely living a boss fantasy. Which is much better when you’re in the moment than living the aftermath. Or maybe I wasn’t living a boss fantasy. Maybe I’m just turned on by Cole in any and all capacity. Not that it matters. For someone who didn’t want to mix pleasure with work, I just managed to moan and orgasm on a desk in some nameless person’s office that I hope remains nameless.
I open my purse and do my best to fix my face and hair with the few items I’ve creatively fit in my tiny bag. Thankfully I have lipstick, a concealer, a tiny comb and a petite hairspray, all of which I waste no time putting to use. Time is critical, not just because of the party either. The longer I’m down some hallway with Cole, the more obvious we are. I walk to the door, steel myself for the man on the other side, and exit.
He’s leaning on the wall, looking all Tall, Dark and GQ—no, all Tall, Dark and Just Owned Me, in his perfectly fitted suit. The man doesn’t even have a hair out of place, standing there, one foot crossed over the other, his arms folded over his perfect, broad chest and me on his lips.
He straightens to his barbaric height. And he is barbaric, or I wouldn’t have ended up with my skirt to my waist and his tongue doing the things it did to me. “Ready?” he asks.
“Of course, I’m ready,” I say, turning away from him and starting down the hallway. I’m not going to let what just happened affect me during the party. I have a job. I have a boss.
He gives a low, sexy laugh, and steps to my side. “No doubt in my mind,” he assures me. “And considering I can still taste you on my lips, this party might just be tolerable.”
I stop walking and look at him. “Cole—”
He turns to face me, intimacy and warmth in his blue eyes. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Don’t say anything like that in that room, please,” I say. “Because I’m not sure I can hide my reaction.”
“But I can say it when we’re alone?”
