Page 89 of The Stranger

“I’m good,” she says, flicking her hand. “Mr Prescottsaid he needed to see you right away, so you better head up there. You don’t want to keep the boss-man waiting.”

“Hmm,” I grumble under my breath as I abruptly open the drawer on my desk to retrieve my handbag.

Since none of the staff elevators go up to Spencer’s floor, I have to travel down to the ground floor and have Shay-lee scan me up there. Although from the outside looking in, this may seem like an innocent, work-related request, I’m embarrassed and slightly terrified that someone will see straight through the lie.

I’m a combination of flushed and peeved by the time I arrive at his office. “You wanted to see me,” I growl from the doorway.

He looks up from his keyboard before sitting back in his chair with a pleased grin. He looks all smug and way too handsome for his own good.

He crooks his finger in my direction, and the grin on his face grows. “Come here, Miss St. James … oh, and lock the door behind you.”

My hands immediately go to my hips. “No, like I said in our message, I have work to do.”

“Don’t get all sassy with me, sweetheart, you know it turns me on,” he replies, placing his hand over his crotch and palming his dick through his trousers.

It does?

“Now, be a good girl, lock the door, and come over here. I have something for you.”

His smug face gets smugger and my body betrays me. I close the door and lock it, before leaning back against the cold wood. A dull, aching throb starts between my legs and my breathing becomes rapid.

“I don’t want to lose my job,” I tell him.

“Do you forget I own this company? Nobody is goingto lose their job. Now come here.” He pushes his chair back further and taps his open palm against his upper thigh. “Don’t make me ask again. Laura will be back in—” his eyes dart to his computer screen, “—forty-five minutes. More than enough time to give you a couple of mind-blowing orgasms.”

My feet move in his direction before my brain even registers the fact. As much as I like to deny it, I’m drawn to this man. When I’m within reaching distance, his hands grasp hold of my hips.

“I swear to everything holy, if you rip this dress like you did my skirt the other day, we are going to have a problem, mister.”

He rolls his lips to hide his amusement before saying, “You are no fun.”

“Fun,” I squeak. “I have nothing else to put on. If you ruin my clothes, I’m going to have to walk out of here with my butt cheeks on show.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says in a serious tone. “What is under this dress is for my eyes only.”

Good answer.

His hands slide from my hips, moving south. When he reaches the hem of my dress, he gently hikes it upwards over my thighs until it’s scrunched around my waist. Once he’s done, he sits back in his chair for a moment to admire his handiwork.

“Beautiful,” he breathes.

He leans forward, places the pad of his thumb against my silk underwear and begins to expertly massage my clit. My hand blindly feels around for his desk, so I have something to hold on to.

When he applies a little more pressure, I tilt my head back and moan. That must spur him on because he’ssuddenly tugging my underwear to the side and sliding his fingers back and forth through my arousal.

“Widen your stance,” he commands, using his knee to guide them further apart. “Good girl.”

His thumb moves back to my clit as the tip of one of his fingers enters me. “Yes.” Moving it in a circular motion, he slowly sinks deeper.

As amazing as it feels, I’m already craving more. Anticipating my needs, a second digit closely follows. His thumb movements quicken, and I feel my body nearing its peak. I squat my legs slightly, taking more of him inside me, which makes him growl.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is, Delilah?”

I’m too busy climbing Mount Ecstasy to answer, but when I hear the tell-taleclankof his belt buckle, my gaze snaps back to him. He pops his button next and then drags down the zipper on his trousers. I feel like I’m watching an erotic strip tease as he frees himself from the confines of his boxers and wraps his hand around the base of his girthy, rock-hard cock.

“See what you do to me, sweetheart,” he croons as he strokes himself.

“Oh, God,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”