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Propping my elbows on the desk, I tilted my head, ready to respond.
“Ah, yes, Mandy?”
I giggled. “MADDieee.” Oh no!
Head jolting, he took a step back. “Are you okay?”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed at the stronger setting.
“Okay?” He took another step back, then veered to his friends, but stopped and turned to me. “Are you sure you’re good?”
“Yep!” The vibration was killing me. The way I’d positioned it on my clit sent a surge of pain and pleasure through my entire lower body. My heart was pounding, and I was fighting to keep from screaming.
The men disappeared around the corner, and I puffed my cheeks out, blowing out a force of air. My eyes were tearing, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Holding the desk with every ounce of my strength with one hand, I reached up my skirt with the other. The toy stopped instantly, then the phone rang with the internal chime. Glancing down, I looked at the caller ID. Fuck you, James Whitman. Yanking the phone receiver up, I placed it to my ear.
What the hell, J—
Madison.
My posture stiffened.
You’re on speaker.
Yes, Mr. Whitman?
Would you please bring us the stack of menus in the bottom right drawer? The website is down.
Uh, sure. Yes, sir.
Thank you. He hung up.
Yanking the drawer open, I dug out the only six menus I saw for a Thai restaurant. I pushed the drawer closed and stood. I checked the seat again. Another small puddle. I hate him. “Thank God my skirt’s black,” I exhaled under my breath, running my palm over the back, discovering exactly as I thought.
Holding the menus against my chest, I adjusted my posture and waltzed to his office with feigned confidence. I knocked twice before opening the door, poking my head in. Mid-conversation, he waved me in. They were all seated around the conference table with James at the head closest to his desk.
His fist was covering his mouth as he listened to one of the strange men speak about his upcoming court date. I got ready to set the menus down next to Vincenzo since he was the closest to the door and I just wanted to get out of there. I made eye contact with James.
He waved me over and lowered his hand to his phone. I marched toward him, ready to hand him the menus, when his finger tapped a button. I stumbled forward, dropping them on the table. He grabbed my arm, squeezing hard. Our gazes met, and he cocked a brow. I took a deep, angry breath, feeling myself about to squirt and cum everywhere.
“Are you okay, Madison?” he asked innocently, circling his thumb on my arm where no one could see.
“Yes… sir.”
Pressing the button once again with his other hand, he stopped the torture. Thank God, I breathed a sigh of relief. Standing straight, I adjusted my posture as I hurried out of the room. Unfortunately, I made eye contact with Vincenzo, who was watching me like a hawk as I sped by.
Once in the wide corridor, I leaned on the wall, panting just as the door opened and Vincenzo stepped into the hallway. “I need to speak to you alone.”
Oh, no. “Okay.”
He gestured toward the room two doors down from James’s office. I stepped through the threshold, taking in the surroundings of the larger conference room. Anything not to have to turn around and face him. The long rectangular walnut table in the middle had twelve chairs around it, with a phone and three empty decanters in the center.
“Maddie.”
I spun around to see him leaning on the closed door, his hands burrowed in his pockets. My eyes lowered to his exposed, tattooed arms before lifting my gaze to his.
“Has Gian done anything else to make you feel uncomfortable?”
“No, why?”
