Excerpts:
“You
have no idea how much trouble you're in.” His tone held none of the subversive
humor that typically colored their private exchanges.
She
swallowed thickly as he stopped in front of her. Even at his most relaxed, she
found his presence intimidating, but the way he loomed over her now made her
weak in the knees. The notion their relationship could be anything more than
professional should never have entered her mind, no matter the temptation.
“I
can explain.” Her eyes darted around the room in search of an escape she knew
didn't exist.
“Your
office. Now,” he ordered, grabbing her laptop in one hand and her wrist with
the other.
Even
though she was horrified, his warm fingers wrapped around her wrist thrilled
her. The pull she fought ignited, flashing across her skin like fire. And then
she remembered this might be the end of her career. He propelled her into the
library office and dropped the laptop on her desk. He released her wrist and
shut the door, turning the lock.
“Do
you have any idea—” His eyes blazed, the words cut short as he tugged at his
tie. Liese watched nervously as he paced the room, his head down, fingers
gripping the back of his neck, jaw working as he ground his teeth together. She
couldn't begin to imagine what he would do if he saw some of the other images
she’d saved.
He
gestured to the laptop. “What the hell was that?”
Liese
jumped, a squeaky sound came out of her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Ryder rarely raised his voice.
It
would be in her best interest not to reveal that her best friend had created a
series of photoshopped pictures of the two of them in compromising positions.
She also thought it wise not to say anything about the folder she’d created to
store them, or how they fed her unhealthy infatuation with him. Or how they
functioned as her primary source of masturbatory material.
“It
was mostly a joke,” she mumbled.
“Do
you think this is funny?” He looked
incredulous as he towered over her, but his voice was smooth silk. Livid though
he was, the tension between them pulsed like shock waves through the air.
“Not
particularly, no,” Liese replied, refusing to look away for fear of appearing
weak, or guilty. If she could maintain a facade of self-righteous indignation,
maybe he wouldn't touch her laptop again. In her peripheral vision, Liese noted
the way his hands continued to clench and unclench at his sides.
“Where
did that picture come from? Are there more?”
Much
to her dismay, his palm settled on the laptop.
“I
really wouldn't—”
Ryder
ignored her half-made request and flipped it open. It only took a few seconds
for the screen to flicker to life and the advertisement to pop up. The gif
played in a loop, the vigorous pumping continuing endlessly.
Liese
sighed. “I don't think there's a way to explain this without it sounding
incredibly bad.”
She
buried her face in her hands and wished she could disappear as Ryder began to
inspect the advertisement. Liese peeked through her fingers to watch him lean
forward, hands splayed on either side of the laptop. Ryder squinted at the
image, and then looked her over. His eyes moved down her body and back up,
tracking her with an expression that bordered on predatory. Satisfied
fascination knotted Liese’s stomach as the change took place: the undeniable
draw she’d kept in check all this time echoed in his eyes. Some invisible line
had been crossed, and Liese doubted she’d be able to return to the safety of
the other side—the side where she pretended the attraction was all in her head.
“Please
tell me that's not you.” A note of aggression lent a sharp and bitter tang to
the words. His fingers flexed against the desk, the tips turning white with
pressure.
“It's
not my body,” Liese whispered, shaking her head.
“You're
quite sure about that?”
“It's
photoshopped.”
“Is
that so?” He quirked an eyebrow, relief relaxed the tense line of his jaw.
Ryder inspected the scene, apparently no longer fazed by the naked, gyrating
bodies now that he knew she hadn't made a porno and pasted his head on her
previous partner. Ryder minimized the picture, allowing a series of folders to
pop up on the screen.
#2
“I'm
sorry, sir.” Liese uncrossed her legs, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. He
followed the movement with his eyes. She prayed he wasn't propositioning her as
a means to sink the final nail into the coffin of her career, but that the
months of pretending the attraction between them didn’t exist had finally come
to an end. “I'm not sure I understand.” God, she hoped they were done
pretending.
“You're
an intelligent woman, Liese. I'm sure you can figure it out.”
She
remained silent, trying to ascertain her position. Tucking her chin in, she
looked up at him demurely. “So, to paraphrase,” she began in a conspiratorial
whisper, “you'd like to have dinner with me so I can tell you about my
masturbation habits? Would that be accurate, sir?”
Ryder's
eyes widened, evidently not expecting her to be quite so forthright. “When you
put it that way—”
“It
sounds inappropriate?”
“Everything
that's happened between us today has been inappropriate.”
“But—”
Ryder
raised his hand to cut her off. “Don't misunderstand me. While I am very aware
this is a dangerous path to take, I seem to have lost my ability to give a
fuck. And after finding this—” He rose from the chair, gesturing to the laptop.
“—I admit I would like to procure several of the other items available on this
site. But I have to assume some may already be in your possession, rendering
such purchases unnecessary. Again, we could discuss the items you do have as
well, if you’d like.”
Liese blinked dumbly at him.
“Sorry,
I ramble when I get excited. Of course, you already know that.” He leaned
forward, his hands flat on the desk, the tick below his left eye belying his
nervousness.
“I
really don't know what to say,” Liese replied. Her initial response was to jump
at the opportunity, considering she’d been thinking about doing that very thing
for ages. But the potential repercussions gave her pause. “Do you often
proposition women this way?”
“Do
you often doctor pornographic images of your superiors?” he shot back.
Liese
rose from her chair, her eyes narrowed as she processed his body language. “Are
you trying to blackmail me into fucking you?”
“Do
you want to fuck me?”
The
question sent a wave of heat through her body. “Do you want to fuck me?” she
retorted, because she’d be damned if she was going to admit it first. The time
she’d spent dissecting his every glance and touch had driven her insane. The
connection between them wasn't in her head, and he should be the one to confirm
it.
“Yes,
very much, actually.”
#3
“How
very naughty of you,” he slipped his pinkie under the garter and pulled, only
to let it snap back against her thigh. Mouth covering hers, he swallowed her
shocked protest. Ryder's palms smoothed along the inside of her thigh, his
fingertips grazing the edge of her panties. She felt the feather-light brush of
his knuckle right where the ache was deadliest.
Liese
whimpered, her body jerking with the contact, desperate for the feel of his
hands on her without the inconvenient obstruction of clothing.
“Shh.”
His lips brushed over hers, and his thumb slipped beneath the elastic. “We
wouldn't want anyone to think you enjoy your meetings with me. What if people
got the wrong idea? Then I might have to discipline you for your
indiscretions.”
“We
wouldn't want that.” Liese bit back a nervous laugh, uncertain whether to take
him seriously. Something told her he meant it when he said he would discipline
her, and she might very well enjoy being on the receiving end.
“Speak
for yourself. I think I'd rather enjoy handing out a punishment where you're
concerned.” Ryder's hand tightened in her hair as his lips traveled along her
jaw, drawing out the sweetest of tortures. He pushed aside her panties, finger
sweeping over the smooth skin.
Liese
couldn't help it; she moaned, parting her legs further in encouragement.
Ryder
stopped, both his fingers and mouth stilled. “What did I just tell you?” His
teeth pressed softly against the juncture of her shoulder and neck, an erotic
warning.
“Sorry,
sir.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and fingered the hair at the nape
of his neck—a weak attempt to draw his attention away from her inability to
follow direction and keep quiet.
“I
really shouldn't do this.” His lips parted against her throat, and his tongue
swept along her skin.
“Please.”
Liese feared Ryder's conscience would catch up with his actions, and he would
remember just how much trouble being together like this could cause. She chose
to bury that knowledge, along with her better judgment, when she trailed her
hands down his chest to his belt.
“Tell
me what you want,” he said.
Supplication
merged with abject longing, and Ryder's fingers twitched, a reminder of how
close they were to a place she wanted them to go, but shouldn't. Regardless,
she didn't want him to stop.
With
shaking hands, she answered the question with actions: grasping his belt
buckle, she unhooked the clasp.
His
breath fanned over her cheek on a warm sigh. Ryder's fingers moved lower. “You
have no idea how difficult it's been,” he whispered as he kissed his way over
her cheek to the corner of her mouth. At the same time he circled, teased, and
then suddenly pushed inside, his fingers curled, sensation radiating from the
center of her body to consume her in a flash fire of desire.
Liese
inhaled a high-pitched gasp, heedless of Ryder's warning to stay quiet. She
couldn't get enough of him, of his body close to hers, of his fingers moving
inside her. He pushed her closer to a precipice she hadn't been anywhere near
in a very long time, at least not with another person.
She
fumbled with the fly on his pants, wanting to touch him as he touched her. In
her haste, the button popped off and ricocheted off the desk, bouncing onto the
floor.
Ryder
broke the kiss and looked to where she held the waistband of his pants
together. “These are expensive pants, and I don't sew,” he told her.
Liese
wanted to laugh at his seriousness juxtaposed with the way he caressed her
body. “Would you like me to sew it back on right now?” She slid her finger
beneath the elastic band at his waist, dipping into his boxers until she grazed
something smooth and hard and pretty damn sizable.
His
eyes closed, jaw tightening and nostrils flaring. On a deep inhale he opened
lust-heavy lids to watch her. “No, I was just stating a fact. I also find it
incredibly hot that you'd be willing to sew it back on immediately.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
