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“Do your lines really work on women?”
“Well, I’ve had you on this desk more times than I can count so, I’m going to say yes.”
She flushes slightly at that but then sinks down into the chair across from my desk.
“What is it you wanted to see me about?” I ask and she pauses a moment, like she’s not really sure what she wants to say. “Or did you just come up here to see if I would put you over my desk again?”
“You wish,” she retorts. “I wanted to let you know that I’m picking up some other shifts. I won’t be home until late the rest of the week. I mean, I know you’re usually here until closing anyway but just so you know.”
“I’ve noticed you’re picking up a lot of shifts. Is that so you can avoid me?” I ask and her eyes widen in surprise like she hadn’t thought of that.
“How long do you think I can avoid having sex with you and still get paid?” she asks with a grin and I can’t help but return it, striding around the desk so that I can put my hands on the arms of her chair, leaning in close.
“How long do you think you can go without begging me for it, Sweetheart?”
“I was doing just fine without sex before you called me up here the first time. As far as I know it hadn’t been too long since you last had sex when you brought me up. So … who’s the one that can’t go without it?”
I like her fire. Like the way she gives as well as she gets. But I’m also quite keen on putting her in her place, so I lean in closer, my lips less than an inch from her own, our breath mingling. But I don’t kiss her. I don’t lean forward that little bit more to press my lips to hers. Even if I do want to desperately.
For her part she stays completely still, waiting, but her eyes drift closed and I can see the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. She wants it, too.
And then I’m not sure who moves first but suddenly she’s in my arms and her lips are on mine. The taste of her envelops everything else so that I don’t care where I am or what’s happening around me. Don’t care about the music that filters in through the speakers or the paperwork on my desk that I was working on. I just want her.
It’s like every other time that I’ve had her, where it feels almost like the first time all over.
This time I simply pick her up, and carry her behind my desk, sitting down in the chair and pulling her down to straddle my lap.
The flimsy skirt of her work uniform is easy to shove out of the way so that I can feel her closer, but still not close enough. And she seems to feel the same way because her hands are immediately at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. And then I feel them at my belt, reaching to free my cock from the too-tight confines of my jeans.
“Oh, hey, Wendy, what are you doing here?” Ethan’s too loud voice enters my subconscious but it takes a moment for the words to process.
“Shit,” I groan and Emma looks up, surprised, stopping what she’s doing immediately. “My sister,” I explain, and her eyes widen.
She scrambles off my lap quickly, righting her uniform and I can’t help but grin, even as I’m struggling to adjust my own clothes. Normally I wouldn’t bother making a lot of fuss about Wendy, but we didn’t lock the door. And I don’t want her to see Emma like this. Not when I’m later going to present her as the mother of my child.
The door opens just as Emma’s barely managed to scramble back to the chair behind the desk and somehow put a completely professional look on her face. A look that turns to surprise at the woman standing in front of her.
“Who is this then?” Wendy asks, glancing Emma up and down.
“She’s one of our waitresses, Wendy. I’m conducting business. What do you want?”
She stares at Emma for another moment and I can just see the way she dismisses her. It wasn’t so long ago that Wendy was joking about getting a job here and how Mom would freak out to see her in one of those uniforms. But now she acts like she’s above all of it.
“I came to tell you that Margie’s dance recital is this weekend. And we’re going out to dinner after.”
“You could have texted me that.”
“I thought I would deliver the information in person. It seemed more personal.”
“Is that it? Or did you want to get another good look at this place because you miss it? Hobnobbing it with the country club elite gets pretty boring, doesn’t it?”
She scowls at me and quickly turns and stalks back out of the room, but I wonder if I might be onto something. She’s been down here twice in as many months. And even though she never lingers downstairs (as far as I know) at least she has to walk through the place to get to my office, right?
“I should get back to work,” Emma says, quickly standing up once Wendy is gone and I barely manage a nod before she’s also out the door and hurrying down the stairs.
But I’m not ready to let this one go. In fact, I’m ready to pick things up again right where we left off, which is exactly what I do when she walks through the door that night; I grab her and pull her into my arms.
“Oh!”
