Page 107 of Sin

By the time I get to the office, I am already in a foul mood. It gets worse when I see Laurel isn’t at her desk. I spend the morning buried in meetings and emails, responding to people with half my attention while the other half counts down the hours until we leave.

At eleven, there’s a knock on my door and Laurel enters.

“I have the files you asked for,” she says as she closes the door behind her.

My cock jumps as she presses the lock and crosses the room. She’s wearing a fitted black skirt and a soft green blouse tucked into her waist. The folder in her hand might as well be a prop.

I lean back in my chair. “Do you?”

Her eyes stay on mine. “Very important files.”

“Seattle?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

She reaches my desk and sets the folder down in front of me. Then she walks around the side of the desk.

My entire body tightens.

“I thought we should review expectations before the trip.” Her voice is calm.

Her hands are not. One trembles slightly when she reaches for the edge of my desk. I stand. She tips her head back to look at me, and the second our eyes meet, all the air leaves the room. I reach for her and she comes to me like she’s been waiting all morning for permission to stop pretending.

Our mouths collide.

There is nothing gentle about it. Nothing careful. The kiss is rough and immediate and full of everything I couldn’t say in my kitchen, everything I can’t put in a text, everything we’re both about to carry onto that plane like contraband. She fists both hands in my shirt and pulls me closer. I lift her onto the desk. The folder slides off the edge and hits the floor.

“So much for the files,” she breathes against my mouth.

“I’ll review them later.”

“Bad CEO.”

“Terrible.”

She laughs, but it breaks into a gasp when my hands slide under her skirt. I am already hard. She’s already wet. That should shame me.

It doesn’t.

Not when she’s tugging at my belt with frantic fingers and kissing me like Seattle is too far away, like tonight is too long to wait, like she needs this now as badly as I do.

“We have ten minutes,” she whispers.

I drag my mouth down her neck. “Then stop talking.”

Her laugh turns into a moan when my fingers find her. I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing the sound, because the building is awake and my assistant is three doors down and anyone could knock.

That only makes it worse.

Hotter.

More reckless.

Her thighs part for me, and I step between them, pushing her skirt higher, feeling the warm softness of her skin beneath my palms. By the time I’m between her thighs again, her mouth is swollen from mine, and her breathing is too fast. I push in with one slow, deep thrust.

We both go still and, for one second, I forget where we are.