My eyes go back to the sketch, and my imagination takes over, picturingmyhands ripping off that fancy dress. Only Jordie isn’t wearing her uniform underneath. She’s wearing that simple cotton bra I got a glimpse of when she was in my office. And matching panties.
My penis says hello again, this time by thickening behind the zipper of my black pants. “Cut it out. She’s too young for us,” I mutter at the persistent bastard. He’s undeterred by my scolding.
But is she too young?my cock seems to ask like he suddenly learned to communicate by dirty, subliminal messaging. I glance at the form with all her vital info. Jordie just turned twenty-three, and I’m thirty-two.
“Not horrible,” I mumble, twirling my pencil through my fingers.
“What’s not horrible?” someone says, and I yelp, levitating a few inches off my chair in surprise and banging my erection on the underside of the desk.
“Ow!” I say to Charlotte, who is apparently now a fucking ninja and standing in front of my desk.
“Are you okay, boss?” she asks.
“Fine,” I grunt. “Just hit my… knee.”
“Old man,” she taunts. “And what’s not horrible?”
My eyes skitter around, looking for something that could be described asnot horrible.
“This pencil,” I reply, holding it up for her inspection. She cranks up a dubious eyebrow, and I scramble to cover. “In fact, I think I like this brand. Very smooth. Can you order me some more of them?”
“Suuure,” she draws out, taking it from my fingers. “How many would you like?”
“However many come in a case,” I say, waving my hand, the picture of cool nonchalance. “Was there something you needed?”Besides interrupting the fantasy I definitely shouldn’t have been having.
“Just reminding you that you have an online meeting with the European marketing team in five minutes. Remington is going to sit in.” She says my older brother’s name with a breathy swoon.
“Want me to pass him a message?” I tease.
Charlotte juts out one hip, propping a manicured hand there. “Tell him his favorite cougar said hi.”
I laugh. She’s at least twenty-five years older than Remi, but she loves giving him crap. He plays right along with her banter, knowing Charlotte is completely harmless. She’s been happily married for almost four decades.
As she leaves the room, I put aside the drawings and pull my laptop toward me. It will be good to see my brother’s face. He moved to London years ago—aftereverything—to head up the European division of Hale Cosmetics. He’ll be CEO of the whole company once our dad retires.
Logging on, I look up as Charlotte returns to my office and tosses an ice pack on my desk.
“What is this for?”
“Oh, I thought you might need to ice your… knee.” Then she struts out, leaving me only with her knowing cackle.
“You can be replaced,” I call to her back, earning me more laughter from my admin.
When the door closes, I sigh and reach for the pack, holding it against my crotch. I foresee needing lots of cold to keep my persistent cock in check in the future.
For at least as long as I’m working with Jordie McNamara.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The sex warlock
Jordie
“Hi, honey.”
I settle onto one of the wooden chairs at a little bistro in Rice Village, near my townhome. “Hey, Mom.”
At her request I progressed from calling her Delphine to Mom last month. It still feels a little weird since I’ve never called anyone that before, but I’m getting used to it.
