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Garrett walks out, grunting at me as a way of saying goodnight and I throw the cloth down on the bar, preparing myself for what I’m about to do.
Jonny will be back around four to take me home after his meeting finishes and it’s now half past three which means I have thirty minutes to have a look around and try to find something on him, to find out what he’s up to.
I walk through the back hallway, my senses on high alert. The last thing I want is to be caught snooping.
Pushing through to Jonny’s office, I close the door behind me with a soft click and rush over to his desk, opening up his drawers. The top two open easily, but apart from pens and blank paper, there’s nothing in them. I pull on the bottom drawer but it won’t budge, crouching down, I take a good look at it, cursing when I see the lock.
Shooting up, I look around the room for anything I could use to pick the lock. If only I had my kit with me, I’d be able to get into it within seconds.
My eyes zone in on a cupboard next to the black sofa that sits against the wall. I hop over to it, pulling the doors open and hoping that there’s something in here. My eyes widen when I see all of the folders that are sitting there, just waiting to be read.
I pull the first one out and open it, scanning the pages for anything out of the norm. I see countless bills for alcohol and food, so I render that one useless and put it back then pull the next one out.
By the time I’ve looked through ten of them, I start to get aggravated, my eyes wandering back over to that locked drawer. Jonny wouldn’t keep incriminating evidence in a place that anybody could get to. He’s too smart for that, there’s only one reason you have a locked drawer, to keep people from seeing whatever’s inside.
I shove the folder back, closing the doors and crouching back behind the desk. I lie down on my back and try to see if I can get to it from underneath, looking for a panel that I can break free.
“Kitty?” I gasp at Jonny’s deep voice and freeze. “What are you doing?”
“I… erm…” I slip the ring off my finger and shuffle out from under his desk. I didn’t even hear him come in. “I dropped my ring,” I say, standing up and flashing him a smile.
He frowns, probably trying to work out if I’m telling the truth. “Why are you in my office?”
He shifts slightly and I know he’s not happy that I’m in here alone. His body language says it all.
“I was waiting for you,” I whisper, slipping the ring back onto my finger. “It’s been a busy shift and my feet are killing me, I just wanted to lie down.” I tilt my head to the sofa and his eyes flick to it and then back to me.
“Your feet are hurting?” He frowns.
“Yeah.” For added effect, I sit on the sofa and slip my foot out of my shoe, rubbing it and closing my eyes briefly before opening them back up.
Jonny shifts closer, pulling his jacket off and slinging it over the side of the sofa. He sits down next to me, leaning back and pulling my foot into his lap.
I try to pull it back but he smirks and runs the pads of his fingers under my arch, making me squirm. I start to panic even more, knowing that Betty is strapped to my other ankle, if he feels it, he’ll know that something is going on. I try to stand up but I don’t get very far before he pulls me back down.
“Relax,” he says, his voice dropping an octave.
I don’t want to relax, I shouldn’t want to relax but it feels so damn good. His fingers massage the ball of my foot and I can’t stop the groan from slipping free and my eyes closing of their own accord.
My mind blanks out as his fingers work magic on my foot. What was it I came in here for?
He pulls my other foot up, slipping my shoe off and doing the same to that one. Resting my head on the arm of the sofa, I bask in the feel of his long, strong fingers.
His hands wander up one of my calves and starts to massage there as well. I should tell him to stop before he gets to my other leg or pull away but I can’t. Something stops me from doing just that and when he shifts positions, lifting on top of me, I don’t say no, I welcome the weight of his body on mine.
His stubble rubs against my neck as he whispers, “I want to touch you.”
I squirm, opening my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
“I want to see what you taste like.” He brings his lips to mine, only millimeters separating us. “Here… and here,” he says, tracing his hand down my stomach and cupping my pussy.
“Oh, God.”
His lips crash down onto mine, hard and forceful. He groans when I touch his tongue with mine, the sound so guttural that it has me squirming closer to him, wanting to feel more. He shifts between my legs and I can feel just how much he wants this too.
“Boss?”
We both still, neither of us moving. I open my eyes, my breath catching in my throat.
