Page 35 of Sexting the Boss
“Anything I need to know about the vendor delay?” I ask.
“They’re stalling. Probably expecting renegotiation. I logged a workaround. Check your inbox.”
“And the Paris call?”
“Moved to Friday. You were overbooked.”
I nod once, pleased. Her gaze flicks toward my laptop, then back to me.
“You didn’t check,” she says.
“No. I trust you.”
Her cheeks go pink, and I have to try very hard to stifle my smile. I reach for my phone, type a quick reply to legal, then look up again. She’s still watching me.
“Do you have anything else?” I ask.
She stands, smooth and unhurried. “No. I’ll be at my desk.”
“Lock the door.”
She freezes. “I?—”
“Now, Ms. Bennett.”
She nods and hurries to the door, locking it without a word before turning back to face me. Her chest rises a little faster now, but she’s trying to hide it.
“Come here.”
She walks over to the side of the desk, careful not to brush against anything. I roll my chair back, watching the subtle shift in her posture when she realizes I’m serious. Her hands hover at her sides like she’s not sure what to do with them.
I hook a finger into the waistband of her skirt and tug her forward, slotting her between my knees until I can feel the heat radiating off her skin.
“You keep looking at me like you want something.”
“I was doing my job,” she says, lifting her chin.
I slide my palms up her thighs, slow and steady, until her breath catches. Her skin is warm and taut under my touch, and she’s already starting to give.
“You signed the contract,” I remind her, my thumbs pressing into the curve of her waist. “This isn’t casual.”
“We’re at work,” she whispers, though her hands are already resting on my shoulders.
“Then maybe you should be more careful about how you look at me.”
I lean in just enough that she can feel my breath on her cheek, and she still doesn’t move. Her pupils are blown wide, and her grip on my shirt tightens slightly.
“You think I don’t notice the way you breathe when I speak? The way your legs press together under that desk like you’re afraid I’ll find out?”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue, but I cut her off before the lie can land.
“Take your hair down.”
She pauses for half a second, then lifts her hands and pulls the tie loose. Her curls fall over her shoulders, thick and wild, and I don’t miss the way she flushes under the attention. She looks like she knows exactly what that little act just did to me.
“Good. Now unbutton your blouse.”
There’s a flicker of hesitation, but she does it. Slowly. Carefully. One button at a time until I can see the swell of her breasts and the way her bra strains against her chest.
