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Imogen nods.
“I have a headache,” I tell everyone. “I’m sure you all have enough to be going on with for the rest of the day.”
“We’ll update you before lunch,” Morgan tells me. “In the meantime, I can start right away with Imogen. I have several emails to reply to, we can start there.”
“Excellent.” They all go to stand.
“Imogen,” I start. “A word, please.”
Doris gives her a reassuring smile as they take their leave.
Imogen sits back down.
When the others are gone, I walk over to the door and lock it behind them.
The windows are still frosted over so nobody can see in but we can see out.
I sit back down.
I take her in and my dick swells at her short skirt riding up her thighs.
“I need to check the staff policy about skirts that are too short,” I tell her and she swallows hard. “Could be hazardous.”
“Why did you lock the door?” Her gaze finally meets mine.
My eyes dip to her chest. Her breathing has accelerated and I’m glad to see the color rising in her cheeks.
“Why do you think? One of my favorite pastimes when I’m stressed is to get all the knots and tension out of my body. It’s therapeutic. I highly recommend it.”
“Oh, and how do you do that?” Her voice is soft, and it’s like she’s talking straight to my dick.
I smile, my eyes heated as I roll my chair back. “I fuck.”
Chapter Twenty
Imogen
This man.
I have no words for him.
Not only did he just fire an entire team of staff and berated them in front of me, but I just got a promotion on day two and we’re flying to Paris next week? I need to check myself.
“You fuck?”
“You heard right.”
“As in, right now?”
“Would that please you?”
“We’re at work,” I stammer.
“I locked the door.”
“But we’re… loud… and we’re… at work.”
He smiles like a fox. “You’ll have to be quiet then, won’t you? Come here.”
