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“I was admiring it,” I admitted bashfully. “I’m studying interior design, and I’m just . . . wow. In awe.” I ended on a giggle and a shrug.

Charmed, Johnny extended his arm. “Should I give you a personal tour?”

I ducked my head and smiled up at him through my lashes. “Really?”

He took my hand and threaded it over his forearm. “I insist.”

As he led me from the room, I shot a smug smile over my shoulder at Alessia, who shook her head at me even as her eyes sparkled.

I let Johnny show me around the apartment, asking appropriate questions but mostly cooing and batting my lashes at him, giving him the opportunity to show off. It was only when he opened the door to his father’s office that I gave him what he wanted.

“Wow,” I murmured, stepping inside even though it was obvious he was timid about entering. “This is some desk.”

It was an enormous pink-marble affair, like something you’d see in a church or temple.

I moved to it, running a hand along the cool stone before turning to face Johnny with a sly smile, planting both hands on it behind my back so my breasts were presented in the dim light spilling in from the hall.

“It’s the kind of desk that was made . . .” I trailed off with another timid giggle.

Johnny came into the room but kept his hand on the doorknob. “Made for what?”

I bit my lip. “Being bent over and fucked hard.”

He made a sound like he was choking on his own breath, and a moment later the door was swinging closed, enclosing us in near darkness, only the light from the open curtains and the city lights illuminating the space.

“Well, I think we could accommodate that fantasy,” he said as he crossed the space, reaching for me.

“Maybe a drink first?” I suggested shyly. “To loosen up a bit?”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, already redirecting to the liquor cabinet. “Whiskey?”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him as he poured and then came over to hand me the glass.

I took them both and placed them on the desk beside me before wrapping my hands around his neck to haul him down to me. My breath was hot against his neck as I whispered, “Have you ever done it in your office chair?”

Johnny shuddered, forgetting that he was pretending to be the owner of the apartment instead of his father. “No way, my dad would kill me if he found out.”

“Oh . . . are you scared?” I asked with faux disappointment. “Are you too good a boy to dirty up Daddy’s desk?”

I scraped my teeth along his jaw, ignoring the chemical taste of his cologne.

He shivered again. “Nah, I’m down.”

“Sit down for me,” I ordered softly, pulling the tiny vial out of my pocket with one hand while the other skated down his chest to tweak a nipple through his button-up. “And I’ll show you how whiskey affects me.”

He hastened to do as I said, spinning around to practically sprint to the chair.

I swallowed my chuckle as I used the opportunity to spike his drink before collecting both glasses and following him around the desk.

“To being naughty,” I cheered, clinking my glass against his after handing it over.

His grin was a wicked wedge of white in the dark. “Aye, aye.”

I watched as he sucked back the two fingers of whiskey in one swallow and took a sip of my own.

“Come here,” he said, placing the glass down a little too hard on the desk and opening his arms for me.

I clucked my tongue. “Wait for the booze to hit my system. Tell me, what are you going to do to me?”