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I don’t feel like being a gentleman tonight. “No.” I flatten my front to her back, pressing her firmly against the wall. “Like I said, it’s you that needs a lesson in pleasantries, not me, and you didn’t sayplease.”
“Go to hell.” Huffing, she tries to push back but I hold her firmly in place with my broad body.
“Already there, baby.” Because I know how sweet her pussy tastes, and working with her every day is like living in Satan’sden of iniquity without being allowed to play if I never get to taste it again.
When she turns to face me, I lift my fingers that were just inside of her, then rub the tips across her bottom lip. “Taste,” I command.
The way she flicks her tongue out and licks my digits sparks memories of the way she sucked my cock three weeks ago as if I was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and all the blood rushes to the end of my dick, making it pound harder.
“Good girl.” It’s the second thing she’s done without protest.
And the way her pupils dilate confirms to me that she likes my praise. She liked it the other night and she is most definitely into me.
I wonder how long she’ll keep denying it.
“See you tomorrow morning, Arianna.” I back away, palm my hard cock, readjusting it to ease the pressure, then unlock the door and yank it open, leaving the stall quicker than her brain can keep up with. It’s also the last thing I want to do, but to hell with it, she’s not the one in control here. I am.
“And don’t even think about playing with yourself.” That’s my job. “Or I will know,” I call back over my shoulder.
What the hell am I saying? This is messed up.
Arianna yells from behind me as I take long strides toward the exit. “You can’t leave me like this,” she squeals. Fucking squeals like a woman on the edge, which she is.
Oh yes, I can leave you, baby girl, oh yes I fucking can.
Because I just know she’ll be screaming the wordplease, and admitting how much she likes me, before the week is through.
When what I should really be doing is staying away from her like I promised her I would.
But some part of me just can’t help myself.
“Nathaniel,” she calls after me, but I ignore her as I unlock the main door and exit the restroom with unshakable confidence.
Walking past a line of women waiting to enter, I ignore their stares and gasps of disapproval.
Smoothing down my tie, I rebutton my suit jacket, and stretch out the tension in my neck, moving it one way and then the other. I’m going to have blue balls until I get home, but fuck it, I have a new memory to jerk off to tonight; spanking Arianna might just be my new favorite thing.
Guilt and disappointment coils around my gut like a boa constrictor suffocating its prey.
Add self-loathing to that list for wanting someone I shouldn’t be wanting: my secretary.
Why is this happening to me? And why can’t I stop?
I know I’m playing with fire, only I think I’m going to be the one that burns to ashes.
13
ARI
Annoyed and frustrated that Nathan didn’t let me come, I slam the stall door shut with a loud bang when high-pitched chatter, from what sounds like a dozen or so female voices, suddenly fills the empty bathroom.
I slip off my heels before removing my ruined pantyhose.
“Asshole,” I mutter to myself under my breath and scrunch them up before throwing them into the trash can.
I still for a moment when a voice swoons words of admiration for the infuriating man I’m learning likes to play games. “Wow, Nathan looks hot tonight. Whoever got to sample his goods is one hell of a lucky lady.”
No, she’s not. She’s more frustrated than an author with writer’s block.