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Anita

I hit reply and flexed my fingers over the keyboard. Was there a subtle way to work in how much I was looking forward to eating her pussy, not whatever the caterer made for us? Probably not. I didn’t want to subject Lipa to any third-party sexual innuendos anyway.

I fired off a quick, formal reply saying I’d be there, then immediately picked up my phone to text her back.

Couldn’t wait ’til Saturday to see me, huh? I sent with a grin still playing at my mouth.

She replied just a few seconds later.

Cocky.

I snorted, spinning my desk chair around to face the windows as I thought about what to send back. But then another text came through.

Want to come to mine after?

I sat up straight in my chair, belly already squirming with anticipation. Hell fucking yes, I did. And not just to have sex. I kind of wanted to see Anita’s place. See what it was like. I bet she kept it obsessively tidy and organised. I bet she alphabetised her spice rack and kept the items in her fridge in neat, orderly rows.

God, that’s hot.

Yes I do , I sent back, wasting no time. How’s your shower?

About a quarter the size of yours, she replied. Will that be acceptable for your bougie ass?

I huffed in amusement and sent back, Don’t pretend you can’t wait to see my bougie ass again.

I do like your ass, she replied. And that tail.

I grinned wide, already typing.

They like you too.

By Friday, I was antsy to see her again. The day dragged, especially because I skipped my three o’clock meal so I wouldn’t be too full for the food-tasting.

At precisely three-fifteen, I shut down my computer and packed up for the day.

“Ready to go, Lipa?” I asked as I left my office, buttoning my suit jacket.

She jolted a little, spinning her chair to face me. “Oh. Now, sir? I checked the route and it’ll only take us fifteen minutes to get there—”

“I know, but traffic might be bad. I don’t want to risk being late.” I suppressed a smile as I said it. I just wanted to beat Anita there again so I’d get to see her nose go all cute and scrunched up in frustration.

“Of course. One second.” She hurriedly finished typing something, then shut down her computer and stood up to grab her bag and jacket. “Oh, did you need me to come back to the office after? Is there anything you want me to do before the weekend—”

“No way.” I grinned at her, rocking back on my heels. I was in a great mood all of a sudden. “I’ll drive you home after, if you want. Or wherever you’re going after work.”

She grinned back. “Thanks, Mr var Rorik.”

“No problem.” I strode toward the elevators, eager to get going.

We rode down to the first floor in companionable silence, and as we were climbing into my car, Lipa asked, “Doing anything nice this weekend, sir?”

My good mood must have been obvious. I shrugged as I started the car, trying not to grin. “Nothing much. Just looking forward to it.”

“Oh!” She reached for her bag and pulled out her tablet. “Mr Povlik sent over his queries on the contract revisions—”

“Don’t worry about it, Lipa.” I waved a hand. “It can wait ’til Monday.”

“Oh. Okay.” She put her tablet back and glanced over at me. “You seem… relaxed, sir.”