I’m sitting at my desk with an absent smile on my face, my fingers poised on the mouse. I’m designing the primary suite for a client using an online program and it’s coming together perfectly. Various shades of cream with hints of mauve. A stained-glass window leading to their ensuite bathroom. A big, dramatic lantern pendant light.
They’re going to be thrilled when I send them my vision.
There’s a creak behind me, and a happy tingle runs down my spine, because it’s a reminder that my husband is also working late. Right behind me.
Unable to help myself, I finger the Daddy’s Girl necklace that always lies against my throat and turn to look at him over my shoulder, sighing over how hot he looks today in gray slacks, a black sweater pushed up to his elbows. Loafers. And I can smell his cologne from my desk, which he insisted be placed right beside his. In the same corner office. Tight quarters is exactly what it is—and that’s how we like it.
I was the company’s first and only intern through four years of college, even once I married the boss in a beautiful ceremony by a local lake. Emma was my maid of honor, naturally. We’re best friends. Although, she still rolls her eyes when Jason and I get too “lovey-dovey” in front of her. We try to keep it to a minimum.
But it’s hard.
Because I love this man more than words can describe. He’s my very breath.
We’re an incredible business team, in addition to being husband and wife. He does the construction. I design. We’re so highly in demand, we’re getting offers from all over the country. But we haven’t accepted any of those generous offers yet, because we’d rather be at home as much as possible. Watching kung fu movies. And occasionally,Secretary.
We decided to wait to start a family until…well, now.
Business is amazing. I graduated from my university with honors.
Maybe I’ll ditch the pill and we’ll start trying tonight.
Jason glances up from his work and catches me staring, leaning back in his leather chair, his gaze running down the length of my spine and darkening. With a prim chin raise, I go back to clicking away on my screen, though when I hear another, more pronounced creak of his chair, goosebumps tingle to life on my arms. My neck.
What is he going to do to me tonight?
It’s always a mystery. He always keeps me guessing.
Play time always has the same outcome—pleasure. Wondering how we’ll get there never fails to excite me, though, and my panties turn sodden now, my hair follicles sensitizing, my tummy growing heavy and ticklish.Oh, my goodness.
His big hand settles on my shoulder, and I clench between my thighs.
“You did excellent work today,” he says, running his thumb along the curve of my neck. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you looked very pretty while doing it.”
I struggle to sound remotely normal when my hormones are fizzing and snapping with anticipation. “Thank you, sir.”
Slowly, he releases my hair from its ponytail.
He runs his fingers through it for long moments, every so often brushing my sensitized neck. I can feel the heat of his body behind me. Looming. I picture him looking down at me, watching my pulse flutter erratically.
Listening to my breath.
Observing my nipples where they pout with more and more definition against the front of my snug white blouse.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I breathe in and out, grasping for control of my heart rate, but there’s none to be found. It’s not lost on me that I’ve come full circle, finding myself in the same setting asSecretary.Hungering for my boss. Hungering for the awakening that only he can give me. Looking down at my lap, I swallow. “No, you don’t make me uncomfortable.”
He hums in his throat. “Do you like being touched by your boss?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He winds my loose hair around his fist and slowly tilts my head back, so I’m looking up into his shadowed face. Not soshadowed that I can’t see the desire tightening the edges of his mouth. His jaw. “How much do you like it, little girl?”
I’m going to melt or explode. I don’t know which. “Very much, sir.”
For long moments, he simply breathes in and out, his gaze singeing me everywhere it touches. And it touches meeverywhere.“Unbutton your blouse for me.”
My fingers do his bidding, freeing three buttons, four.
