Page 149 of Sexting His Assistant

I come hard, buried deep inside her, teeth clenched to keep from making a sound that would ruin both of us.

For a while, we don’t move.

The closet is too hot. Her blouse is open. Her bra is pushed down. My trousers are barely on. A packet of paper towels has fallen against my shoe.

Nina opens her eyes slowly and looks at me. “You,” she whispers, breathing hard, “are a workplace hazard.”

I rest my forehead against hers. “File a report.”

“I will.”

“With whom?”

Before she can reply, I lean in and kiss her.

When I pull back, she is flushed, breathless, and glaring.

“I hate this coffee room,” she says.

I withdraw my hand carefully and fix her underwear. “No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Then avoid it.”

“You followed me here.”

“And I will do it again.”

Her face goes hot. “You are not supposed to say things like that at work.”

“I’m your employer.”

She closes her eyes for a second. “God, you are such a problem.”

I help her down from the counter. Her legs are unsteady for one step. She tries to hide it by reaching for the coffee cup.

The cup’s cold now.

She looks at it like it betrayed her.

I reach for a napkin and clean my hand while she smooths her skirt and fixes her blouse in the microwave reflection. The whole thing is absurdly domestic for what just happened.

I wait in the closet for thirty seconds because Nina points at me like she will physically fight me if I come out too soon.

She leaves first, smoothing her skirt, coffee cup in hand, face composed enough to fool most people.

It would not fool me.

Her mouth is swollen. Her blouse is buttoned correctly, but one side of her collar sits higher than the other. Her hair is no longer neat. She looks like trouble and denial.

I wait until the coffee room door closes behind her.

Then I step out of the closet, fix my jacket with one hand, and check the hallway through the frosted glass.

Empty.

My shoulder hurts like hell, my shirt is wrinkled, and I can still feel her thighs locked around me. I should be thinking about Alina. Karpov. The garage. The internal access breach.