“Oh, yeah,” Tom says softly.
I put my boobs in his face and arch my back. He squeezes my ass and breathes heavily on my skin.
“That champagne,” he mutters. “Everything’s spinning.”
“Will you fuck me, Tom? Right here over this desk where you do such sexy, important work? Will you pull up my skirt and fuck me from behind right now?”
“Oh, yeah. I w—”
I slide back and off his lap, hoping I’m reading his signs right. He’s clearly fighting dizziness as he tries to watch me pull my skirt up past my hips and bend over his desk.
“Just like this, Tom,” I say, my heart racing.
“Sally, I nee…I need…” He stands up from the chair and reaches for the desk, but his hand slides away from it and he goes down like a sack of bricks.
I exhale with relief and pull my skirt back down, then put my tits back inside my cami. I really didn’t want to have to go any further than that with Tom.
Moving quickly, I take off my other shoe, slide open the compartment and pull out the jump drive the tech department at Greenlight gave me. I’m not great with technology, but all I have to do is follow their instructions. I insert the drive on Tom’s computer and type in a few commands.
It takes a few minutes, and I glance between Tom’s limp body on the floor and the computer screen, willing the program to run faster. Finally, it finishes and I return the jump drive to the compartment in my heel and slide it closed.
Nervous adrenaline is still coursing through me as I get to my knees on the floor beside Tom. I unfasten his belt and pants and tug them down past his hips. This will be the hardest part. I’m praying my first operation isn’t also my last as I pat his cheeks and call out his name.
It takes for-fucking-ever. After at least twenty minutes of cheek pats, he stirs slightly.
“Tom?” I say, faking concern. “Are you okay? Talk to me, Tom.”
It takes another minute for him to open his eyes, and when he does, he’s staring at me in shock.
“What just happened?” He takes a handful of my cardigan, and I give him a shocked look.
“Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay! Should I call 911?”
He pushes himself up to a sitting position with his hands. “Why am I on the floor?” He looks down at his limp dick and frantically pulls up his polka dot boxer shorts.
“We were having sex, and you just…passed out.” I force emotion into my tone. “I thought you were having a heart attack! I was so worried. I almost called 911, but I didn’t know if I should since we were drinking champagne in here.”
“The champagne.”
Tom gets to his feet, fastens his pants, and picks up the bottle. He sniffs the top of it and then shoots me a skeptical look.
“What did you do?”
I widen my eyes. “What do you mean? It wasyourchampagne.”
“Yeah, but…” He rubs his temple and looks at his computer screen. “Shit. Were you on my computer? What did you do?”
“I was down on the ground with you!” I dig deep and whip up some tears. “I thought you were dying.”
“This is bad.” He shakes his head. “I could lose my job for this.”
“For being sick? Tom, I’m worried about you. I think we need to go to a hospital.”
“No.” He rubs his temple again. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this, okay?”
“I’d never. I’m just worried about you.”
“We need to go.”
