It was killing me softly, and I was starting to think I didn’t mind dying that way.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Paige’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up from the contract I had been pretending to read for the last ten minutes.
She stood in front of my desk, arms crossed, and wearing the navy blue dress I had always liked. The soft fabric pulled taut across the swell of her chest and over the feminine curve of her hips. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with a few blonde strands escaping to frame her face.
She looked livelier than before. I had asked Donna to make Paige’s favorite food, and I was glad she had started to finish her portion and slept through the night. Whenever Lily fussed in the night, I woke up to take care of her in the nursery, reading her books.
“I’m listening,” I lied smoothly.
“Really? Then what did I just say about Lee's testimony?”
I opened my mouth and paused, seeing her smirk.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, moving around my desk to point at something on my laptop screen, leaning close enough that I could smell her shampoo. Something floral and light that had been driving me crazy for three days.
Is it jasmine? No, something else?—
“I said they pushed it back to Friday, which means you have time to review the witness statements I compiled. Unless you’re too busy daydreaming to care about winning cases anymore.”
“I don’t daydream,” I said, forcing my eyes to focus on the screen. Definitely not on the way her dress dipped at the neckline and how I’d kill to lick her soft skin. Does her skin taste like flowers or vanilla? “I strategize.”
“Is that what you call it?” She asked, reaching across me for the coffee mug on my desk, and I caught a glimpse of black lace. Fucking hell. “Because it looked more like you were staring into space with that dumb expression you get when?—”
The mug slipped.
Uh oh.
I watched in slow motion as it tipped, coffee arcing through the air in a perfect trajectory. Hot liquid splashed across my lap, soaking through my pants, and I jumped up with a curse.
Thankfully, it wasn’t scorching hot.
“Oh, my God!” she gasped, her face going pale. “Derek, I’m so sorry—here, let me?—”
She grabbed napkins from my desk and dropped to her knees before I could stop her, dabbing frantically at my pants.
Right at my fucking crotch.
I’m gonna die. I could imagine the news headlines.
Hot Bachelor Lawyer Dies When the Sexy Assistant Who He Has Been Pining For Years Pats His Fucking Crotch.
Her hands pressed against the fabric, patting and rubbing, trying to soak up the coffee, and I froze. Her fingers grazed the wet fabric that covered my throbbing member.
“Paige, it’s fine?—”
“It’s everywhere. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I?—”
“Paige,” I said, my voice coming out strangled.
Her face was in level with my belt, her hands moving against me, and my body was responding in a way that was extremely inappropriate for the workplace. For any fucking place.
She was helping me, and I was being a perverted idiot, fantasizing about her on her knees in front of me.
I have dreamed of this exact scenario multiple times. With her under my desk wearing that same dress, her hair mussed in the ponytail but not… like this.
I tried to step back, but she followed, still apologizing and patting, and I had to close my eyes and think about the most mundane things possible.
Tax code. Root canals. My grandmother’s funeral.
