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“It was broken.”
“A fact you haven’t seemed overly concerned about before,” I said, reaching for the key and rolling my eyes when he snatched it back. “Seriously? What are you, five?”
“I changed my mind,” he said with a shrug. “And you can have the new key with one condition.”
Of course.
“What?”
He smiled at the surliness in my tone. “You go out with me Saturday night. And don’t try to tell me you’re working because I know you’re not. I checked with Fee.”
I felt myself jerk back at the demand, surprised, not quite sure I was on the same page as him. “What?”
“Me. You. Nice clothes. Dinner. In exchange for the key,” he said, obviously enjoying my disbelief.
“Why do you want to have dinner with me? I clearly want nothing to do with you.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said with a smile, knowing I was lying. “Maybe I just like to look at something pretty in restaurants.”
“So look at the decor. Or swipe through a classic art gallery on your phone and leave me alone.”
“Lea, Jesus, what is so hard about going to dinner with me?”
“Maybe I don’t like being blackmailed into doing something I don’t want to do.”
“Or maybe you don’t trust yourself around me,” he said, hitting the nail on the head and he knew it.
“I trust myself just fine around you.”
“Good. Then this won’t be a problem. I’ll be picking you up at eight. Better get that,” he said, making me suddenly aware that the phone was ringing. He put the key down on my desk and moved away as I tried to shake off the encounter and the idea of a date with Shane. I sat down, clicking the computer on to see that the credit card info was entered and making sure there were no notes giving me specific directions for the call. Finding none, I grabbed the obnoxious hot pink phone.
I barely had it to my ear when he spoke.
“Get on your knees.”
Oh, great. Freaking wonderful.
Fee’s comments were a self-fulfilling prophesy.
And despite more than a couple sessions with the vibrator Fee and I had picked out at the sex shop, there was still the overwhelming need for release. I was pretty sure that vibrators were just like putting a band-aid on an open wound. Sure, it helped in a minor way, but it didn’t fix the underlying issue. I needed sex. I needed to feel a man’s hands sliding over my body. I needed his voice saying dirty things in my ear. I needed to feel a real, live person moving inside me.
Everything else was going to fall short.
Damn it.
“Yes, sir,” I said immediately, taking a deep breath to convince myself to keep my professional walls in place.
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with my elbows on my desk, my head in my hands, undeniably turned on. There was an insistent throbbing between my legs and a shortness in my breathing. Before I could even take more than a deep breath or two, trying to calm down my desire, the damn phone was ringing again.
Checking the computer, I prayed like hell that whoever it was was maybe one of the feet guys or the subs. They did nothing for me. It would be an immediate turn-off.
“Baby,” the voice said, sending a shiver through my body.
“Hey, darling,” I cooed, as I always did. Sweet nothings for horny no ones. “How are you?”
“Hard as fuck after listening to you moan through that last call,” he said and it was immediately clear that it wasn’t some random call. It damn sure wasn’t a foot guy or a sub. And like some stupid as hell horror movie, the call was coming from inside the building.
“Shane, this is work,” I said, trying to sound firm.
“Check the computer again, Lea. I’m a paying customer.”
Damn if he wasn’t.
“I can’t do this with you,” I said honestly, my voice a needy urge for him to understand.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Because you want me,” he said into the phone, but also right behind me. I could literally feel his presence behind me before I saw his arm reach out and put his cell down on the desk beside my arm, the call still connected. “Admit it.” His hand pulled back and moved out to gather all the hair on the right side of my face and moved it all to the left side. His fingers brushed my neck in the process, making my sex clench hard. Oh, yeah. I wanted him alright. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. “Stubborn,” he said, leaning down and placing a kiss beneath my ear.
“Shane, there are cameras,” I snapped, pulling my chair forward, trying to hold onto at least a small amount of professional integrity. He said nothing for a long second before I felt his hand close around my wrist, pulling me upward.
