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“Ugh, Sonya. I missed you,” I say as I sit up from my massage table in my office. My girl has returned and she worked my back and sciatic hard, but my muscles are thankful.

“I’m so sorry about a few weeks ago. My mother slipped and fell and fractured her hip. It’s been a long two weeks, but now that she’s more settled and my father doesn’t look so stressed anymore about taking care of her, I’m glad to be back to work. I can only handle so much of my parents, you know?”

“Uh, I know all too well what you mean. Your replacement was great though.”

She eyes me skeptically. “Um, you know, we didn’t send someone over here that day, Charlotte. Helen tried to explain this to me too, but I’m telling you the truth.”

I grip the sheet around me tighter. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I were.”

“Then who the hell massaged me that day?”

She shrugs, worry in her eyes. “I honestly don’t know.”

Curiosity infiltrating my mind, I think about how I can find out more information about who was in the building that day. Maybe we can look up the camera footage, or I can ask the front receptionist about it. “Well, there has to be a logical explanation for it. I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon.”

“I hope so. So, I’ll see you next week?”

“Absolutely. Thanks again.” I watch Sonya close the door behind her and then I stand from the table and proceed to get dressed again. Sometimes I feel high-maintenance having someone come to the office to massage me, but I know I’m not the only one that does, so I remind myself that I work hard and deserve some self-care. Besides, Sonya is a freelance massage therapist, so I’m putting money in her pocket and getting my physical ailments taken care of—it’s a win-win for both of us.

After I’m dressed, I take a seat back at my desk and get to work, answering emails and checking the messages that I missed while I was getting massaged. I put on the soundtrack to The Greatest Showman, singing the show tunes out loud to myself. As a drama student back in the day, there’s nothing I love more than a phenomenal musical—The Greatest Showman is one of my favorites. The soundtrack is just incredible.

I’m so entranced in what I’m doing that I barely register my door opening until the person that comes through speaks.

“How’s it going, sweet pea?” Glancing up from my computer, I see Damien walk through the door and shut it behind him. “Are you listening to The Greatest Showman soundtrack?”

I press pause on my computer, halting the music, and then smile back at him. “Yes, I was. Is that a problem?”

“Nope. Just makes me think that all these years apart didn’t change as much about you as I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the girl who loved musicals that I grew up with is still inside of there,” he says, his eyes gleaming with appreciation and contentment as he stares at me.

“I guess a part of her is still in here.” I point to my chest, but then remember that his visit here is unexpected. “What are you doing here, Damien?” I ask, even though with the way my heart rate increases, I’d say my body is happy to see him. He’s wearing a light gray suit and sky blue shirt which brings out the color of his eyes. And my God, that smile, it’s mischievous and hints of promises that I’m dying to know the stakes of.

“I came to see my girlfriend,” he says.

“And why is that?”

“Well, I have something to give her. And then I have a question to ask her. Which would you like first?”

“A present or a question?” I ask, leaning back in my chair, smirking in his direction. The confident gleam in his eyes twinkles from the sunlight coming through the windows, and he stands there with his hands in his pockets, pushing his jacket open as he waits for me to reply.

“Yup.”

“I think I’ll take my present first, please.”

And that makes his grin go wider. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Damien walks toward my desk, rounding the solid wood before leaning down over me, resting his hands on the armrests of my chair. “Hey, you,” he says before slowly lowering his lips to mine, pressing against my mouth softly.

“Hi.”

“I need you to stand up, please.”

“Okay…” I do as I’m told, rising from my chair once Damien stands up again, granting me the room to do so. But then he closes the distance between us, slides a hand up the back of my neck into my hair, grabs a fistful of it, and smashes his lips to mine before I can take another breath.

With power and finesse, Damien kisses me intently, backing me up against my desk as he leans down and runs his other hand over my ass cheek. “I’m hoping since I’m allowed to give you orgasms now, that the rule about touching your ass is off the table.”

“You should have asked first, but yes.”

“Thank fuck.” He removes his other hand from my hair before putting his mouth back on mine, bending down and grabbing the biggest handfuls of my ass as he can. “This ass, Charlotte. You have no idea how much I love it.”

“There’s plenty back there,” I mumble against his lips before tangling my tongue with his, really enjoying my gift. A little make-out session in the middle of the day would inflate anyone’s mood, I hope.

“I don’t know if I was too fixated on hating you back then, but I’m kicking myself for never noticing how delectable this is.” He gives my ass a little smack. “And now it’s time for your present.” He lifts me up and plants me on the edge of my desk before taking a seat in my chair.

“What—what are you doing?”

“I’m giving you an orgasm, babe. Like I promised.”

I twist around to look at my closed office door but then nerves fire off at rapid speed. “In my office? Are you insane?”

He shrugs innocently, tearing off his suit jacket, even though he is anything but innocent in this moment. “Maybe a little. But I’m dying to taste you again. Besides, are you telling me you’ve never had a fantasy about a man eating you out on your desk like I’m about to do?”

Um, duh. But that’s why it’s called a fantasy. “Um, no.”

Damien doesn’t buy it, indicated by the grin he flashes me. “You’re a liar.”

“Damien,” I plead, looking around my office again. “This is my job, my place of employment. Anyone could walk in at any moment.”

“No, they won’t. Helen is guarding the door and I locked it when I came in.”

“Helen knows you’re in here?”

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