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We hadn’t spoken. Instead, it was as if we both gave full rein to our bodies and they knew exactly what to do. I hadn’t felt that good, that alive, in a long time. If only there were a way I could make her a project, at least in my bedroom.
But of course, it couldn't happen. What we did in the library at the lodge went against everything I believed. The biggest factor was that I was her boss. But then there was also the fact that she wasn't yet thirty and I was quickly approaching fifty.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure what the red-headed woman with the captivating green eyes saw in me. How she was taken by another man was a fucking mystery.
The door to the conference room opened, interrupting my reverie. But who needed a memory when the real thing walked in wearing a charcoal pencil skirt that hugged her phenomenal legs in a way that made me salivate?
She wore a crisp white shirt that tapered at the waist, teasing me with the way it accented her tits. Her gorgeous red locks were pulled back from her face but were freely hanging down her back, and my fingers itched to run through the soft, thick locks.
"Good morning, Mr. Marshall." She sat at the table and pulled out her phone.
Ah, the ice queen was back. The contradiction of ice and fire concerned me a little bit. Had she been too drunk to remember the night we'd fucked in the study? The idea of that didn't sit well with me. I wasn't a man to take advantage of a drunk woman. She hadn't seemed drunk to me. Had she been drinking?
Yes, but she’d been lucid and clear when she pressed her lips to mine and ignited an inferno. Maybe, like me, she knew what we had done could cause problems and was opting to pretend it never happened. We were back to business as usual. There was relief in that thought.
Except why was she here today? She wasn't a department or company head.
"Good morning to you, Miss Adams. Tell me, is your department head not coming today? Are you coming in his stead?"
She lifted her gaze from her phone and looked at me, those fabulous green eyes staring at me with something that looked a bit like contempt.
"The department head retired a week and half ago and you promoted me to his position. You signed the paperwork. Don't you remember?"
I didn't remember.
"I sign a lot of papers, Miss Adams." In my mind, it was a good thing that I couldn't remember, despite the fact that Betts almost looked hurt by it. But considering that I had fucked her two months ago and then not long after gave her a big promotion, that could look suspicious. So why was she annoyed with me? Did she think I gave her the job because of what we had done? Was she expecting more perks?
I shook that thought away because while I might've signed the paperwork to give her the promotion, I hadn't seen her since the wedding. In my experience, a woman who was after something was much more manipulative and involved in making it happen.
If Betts wanted something more from me, she would've been spending much more time trying to get close to me. Looking across the table, I got the feeling that she didn’t want to be anywhere near me.
I sat down in my chair, noting that forgetting that I'd signed paperwork to promote her wasn't the first time I had a lapse in memory around business. It was one of the signs that I had lost interest in my company again. I needed to put more energy into finding my next project.
As the other members of the meeting strolled in, I scanned my brain for the various options I had already looked at but dismissed. Maybe there was one that I had too easily passed up. The only somewhat interesting idea was an island resort for sale. But I wasn't one for vacations, and I had no need for palm trees and coconuts.
I started the meeting, but once the heads were making their reports, I was in my own head again, trying to find something to make me feel alive. Hearing that I had indeed won the bet from Levi was nice, but it didn't do much to stir my soul.
Thinking of stirring brought me back to Betts. For so long, my dick had been dormant. It usually took work to get him revved up and going, which was why he'd had very little action in a long time.
But from the moment Betts walked into my office, it was like my dick had a fucking mind of his own, and now wasn't any different because now that I was thinking of her, I was back in that study, sinking into that sweet, tight pussy of hers. The woman was a walking, talking, breathing wet dream come to life.
When I had walked out of the library, I was adamant that it couldn't happen again. I couldn't risk potential lawsuits or bad press. For a while, I was grateful that she occasionally haunted my dreams, as fantasizing about her made jerking off more satisfying. But it wasn't the real thing, and I was growing frustrated at the idea that I wouldn't be able to touch her again.
Could I?
We got away with it once, at a wedding, no less. Perhaps with ultimate discretion, we could again. The fact that she hadn't sought me afterward, hoping to get something more from me, whether it was money or love, told me she wasn't seeking anything permanent, either. She’d needed a good, hard fuck that night too.
I wondered if she'd be open to a no-strings-attached affair. I glanced to the other end of the table at her. As if she knew I was looking at her, her head lifted, and her brow arched in an obstinate expression.
I took that to mean that the ice queen's vote would be no on the subject. But what about the fire queen I met in the library? Could I reach her and convince her to have another night of forbidden lust?
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. Yes, it was risky, but that was what all my projects had in common. They all had an element of recklessness which made them exciting.
As the meeting finished, I decided it was settled. Betts Adams was my new project.
2
Betts
