It makes me feel frumpy in my secretary outfit.
"What are you planning to do with your boss tonight?"
I love it when he dives into a game. "Nothing. He's out for the evening, I think."
"No, he isn't. I've got a dare for you, if you're up for it. There's a restaurant opening in Manhattan, SoHo. It's swank and exclusive and darkly lit."
"You want to take me to dinner?"
"No, but I'll be watching."
"W-watching what?"
"You with him."
"But he hasn't asked me anywhere. He never does. It's work."
"You had drinks with him."
There's an erotic accusation in that, and I'm pulled to it, into this. Whatever this is.
"You..."
I lick my lips, my skin hot, my mind at fever pitch.
Is this a game in a game?
And then I catch on.
Oh, Lord.
He's playing hard.
"You were there?"
"But I didn't get to see. Every time you're with him, I get a blow-by-blow. But this time?" He comes over.
I sway against him.
His mouth trails along my throat. "I want to see. Live action."
"It's a little daring to come to my work?—"
"I had a meeting a few doors down. And one with him. Yeah, I know him. He's a client. I want to see him fuck you in public, and I want to fuck you after, his cum dripping down your thigh."
"How am I going to do that? We don't move in the same circles. I can't show up." With every word, the game grows hotter, more complex. More real.
"You won't need to. He's a busy guy, he needs an escort, someone uncomplicated to his life. I suggested his prettyassistant. You. In fact, he came by your desk earlier and left the invite."
With that, he closes the gap and kisses me.
My head is in overdrive, but the thoughts stop as the taste of him explodes on my tongue.
The way his tongue teases mine is something that should be banned to everyone but me.
He tastes and feels like Enzo, and it's more than enough.
Slowly, as he sucks and bites my lip, his hands moving over me, he drops kisses on my face until his mouth is back on mine, and he slides a finger down between my breasts.
