Page 36 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

I stared at the conference room booking screen, my finger hovering over the submit button. Private meeting with Jack Sullivan. Five minutes from now. Second floor conference room. The one with the blinds and solid walls instead of glass.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Was I really doing this?

Three orgasms. Jack had given me three mind-blowing orgasms in the past week, and I’d just..

. taken them. And look, a girl’s not complaining, but fair’s fair.

Today was the day where that all changed.

Unless I chickened out. Before giving myself a chance to do just that, I clicked submit.

The booking request pinged through the system, and I practically held my breath waiting for his response. Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.

Then: Accepted by Jack Sullivan.

“Holy shit,” I whispered to the empty conference room, my stomach doing a complicated series of flips. No backing out now. I’d booked a private meeting with my boss for the express purpose of...

My hands shook as I hopped up onto the edge of the conference table, my pencil skirt riding up my thighs as I crossed one leg over the other, hoping the pose looked casual and sexy instead of terrified.

Then, before my nerve could abandon me completely, I reached up and undid the first button of my white silk blouse.

Then another. And another. Until the lacy edge of my navy bra was visible, my cleavage framed by crisp white fabric.

Out of nowhere, a memory slammed into me.

Saturday night. Me, sprawled across my bed, Jack’s selfie glowing on my phone screen while my vibrator hummed between my legs.

The way his towel had hung low on his hips, the V of muscle disappearing beneath terry cloth.

How I’d traced every ridge of his muscles with my eyes while I worked the vibrator frantically, imagining his cock there instead.

I’d come so hard I’d seen stars, his name escaping my lips in a broken gasp.

Then I’d lain there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he was touching himself too.

If he was looking at my photo while he did it.

The thought had sent fresh heat pooling between my thighs, and before I knew it, I was reaching for my vibrator again.

A sharp spike of arousal shot through me at the memory, and I squeezed my thighs together, suddenly hyperaware of the damp heat gathering there. My nipples hardened beneath my bra, visible through the thin silk of my blouse. Perfect. Or maybe mortifying. I couldn’t quite decide.

The door handle clicked.

Every nerve ending in my body fired at once. Too late to change my mind. Too late to fix my buttons or smooth my skirt or pretend I wasn’t sitting on the conference table waiting for him.

Jack stepped inside and froze.

His eyes locked on mine for a split second before dropping to my exposed cleavage. Then lower, to where my skirt had ridden up, revealing several inches of thigh. His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard.

“Mia.” My name came out rough, almost strangled. “What are you doing?”

What was I doing? Good question. Fantastic question. One I couldn’t answer because all my brain cells had apparently migrated south, leaving me with nothing but burning need and the kind of reckless courage that comes from being sexually frustrated and borderline obsessed with your boss.

My lips curved into what I hoped was a casual smile.

“I thought we should go over my performance metrics for the quarter. There are some interesting trends I wanted to discuss.” I gestured to the chair directly in front of me, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

“Have a seat and I’ll pull up the data.”

He hesitated for a beat, those hazel eyes burning into mine, before lowering himself into the chair. I was grateful when he couldn’t see my hands shaking as I picked up my tablet and pretended to navigate to the appropriate files.

“So the Western division has shown marked improvement across several key performance indicators,” I began, forcing my voice to remain steady as I launched into my presentation. “Customer retention is up, while acquisition costs have decreased by...”

I bit back a gasp when I felt his fingers on the back of my calf. Light as a feather, they traced a path up my leg, over my knee, higher and higher until they reached the lace edge of my thigh-high stockings.

“These are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Somehow I kept talking. “...decreased by approximately 12%. The implementation of the customer archetype system has also resulted in...”

His fingers retraced their path, sliding slowly back down my leg until they reached my foot. With deliberate care, he slipped off my pump, letting it fall to the carpet with a soft thud. The other shoe followed quickly after.

Uncrossing my legs, I rested one foot on the outer edge of the chair, the other in his lap.

Jack’s hand wrapped around my calf, pulling my leg wider.

There was no doubt that he could see straight up my skirt, to the lacy, navy panties that matched my bra.

I’d spent more money on underwear in the last week than I had in the past five years.

Right now, I considered that a solid investment.

Where was I? “...Resulted in a 15% increase in conversion rates across all segments.”

Inching my foot along his leg, I found him.

Hard. Rock hard. Oh god. The proof of how turned on he was sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs.

Every doubt I’d ever had about whether he truly wanted me vanished.

He was straining against the fine wool of his trousers, hot and thick beneath my exploring foot.

“Of particular note is the Q4 forecast,” I continued, marveling at my own ability to speak while my foot pressed more firmly against his length. “Based on current metrics, we’re projecting...”

I watched his face as I moved my toes along his cock, noting the way his jaw clenched and his breathing grew shallow.

His knuckles were white where they gripped the arms of the chair, and that muscle in his temple ticked rapidly.

The contrast between his carefully controlled expression and the evidence of his arousal made me bold.

“...projecting a 22% increase in revenue compared to last year’s fourth quarter.” I punctuated this statement by pressing the ball of my foot more firmly against him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from his parted lips.

“Mia.” His growl was a warning and a plea all at once.

I fluttered my lashes innocently, shifting my weight so I could apply more pressure. “Yes? Did you have a question about the projections?”

His eyes darkened to nearly black, and I saw the exact moment his control began to fray. “If you don’t stop...”

“Stop what?” I interrupted, setting my tablet aside. The data no longer mattered. Nothing mattered except the man in front of me, the desperate need to taste him, to finally give him the pleasure he’d given me so freely.

Before he could respond, I slid off the table and sank to my knees between his spread thighs. The carpet was rough against my knees, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the look of pure hunger on Jack’s face as I reached for his belt buckle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was barely recognizable, gravelly with desire.

I looked up at him through my lashes as I slowly unbuckled his belt. “Conducting a more hands-on analysis.” My fingers found the button of his trousers, popping it open with ease. “I believe in a thorough approach to performance reviews.”

The zipper made a soft hiss as I drew it down. Jack’s breathing had gone ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When I reached into his trousers and wrapped my fingers around his hard cock, his hips jerked involuntarily.

“Fuck, Mia,” he groaned, his head falling back against the chair.

I’d never done this before. Not like this. Not with such deliberate intent to drive him mad. But watching Jack lose control because of me filled me with a kind of confidence I’d never experienced.

I freed him from his boxers, my breath catching at the sight of him. Thick and hard and perfect. A bead of moisture glistened at the tip, and I licked my lips unconsciously.

“Are you sure?” he asked, even as his hand came up to tangle in my hair.

Instead of answering, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.

The sound he made was purely animal, a guttural groan that went straight to my core. I started slow, exploring him with my tongue, learning what made him gasp and what made him curse. His fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me gently as I found my rhythm.

“Christ, that feels amazing,” he muttered, his voice strained.

I grew bolder, taking him deeper, working my hand in tandem with my mouth. The taste of him, the weight of him on my tongue, the knowledge that I was giving him pleasure, all combined to create a heady rush that made me dizzy with need.

His voice held a low note of warning when he tugged gently at my hair. “Mia, I’m not going to last much longer. You should...”

But I had no intention of stopping. I wanted this. Wanted him to lose control completely, wanted to taste his cum, wanted to watch his face when he came undone because of me.

I doubled my efforts, hollowing my cheeks and taking him as deep as I could manage. His thighs tensed beneath my hands, his breathing grew harsh and erratic.

“Fuck, Mia, I’m...”

His words cut off with a strangled groan as he came, spilling hot into my mouth. I swallowed greedily, maintaining eye contact as I watched pleasure crash over him. His eyes went unfocused, jaw slack, that controlled exterior completely shattered.

I’d never felt more powerful in my life.

I held his gaze as I swallowed one last time, then slowly pulled back, wiping the corner of my mouth with deliberate care. Jack’s hands fell limply to his sides, his chest still heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Rising gracefully to my feet, I smoothed down my skirt with steady hands, amazed at my own composure when my entire body was humming with heat and triumph. I’d done this. I’d made him fall completely apart.

“Well,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady as I reached for my discarded tablet, “I think that concludes our review of the quarter’s performance metrics.”

Jack stared up at me, still dazed, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Mia, I...”

I stepped back, slipping my feet into my pumps. “I’ll have Emily compile the full report and send it to your office.” I buttoned my blouse with fingers that barely trembled, covering the navy lace that had started this whole delicious encounter. “Was there anything else you needed to discuss?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head mutely.

“Excellent.” I gathered my things, tucking my tablet under my arm. “I’ll let you, ah... wrap things up here.”

The double meaning hit him, and I couldn’t suppress a small, satisfied smile as a flush crept up his neck.

“Same time next week?” I added sweetly, reaching for the door handle.

“Mia,” he called out, his voice rough with something that sounded like awe. “How…how the hell did you…?”

I paused at the door, glancing back over my shoulder. “Oh, you’d be surprised what a girl can learn from a few self-help videos and a healthy dose of motivation.”

With that, I slipped out of the conference room, closing the door quietly behind me. Only then did I allow myself a moment to slump against the wall, my legs shaking slightly as the reality of what I’d just done hit me.

Holy shit. I’d just given my boss a blow job in the office. And then walked out like I owned the place.

The thrill of power still coursed through my veins, mixing with the arousal that hadn’t faded. I pressed my thighs together, acutely aware of my own unfulfilled need. But that would have to wait.

For now, I had the satisfaction of knowing that back in that conference room, Jack Sullivan was still trying to remember how to function after I’d completely destroyed him.

Best. Meeting. Ever.