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With a voice of plush velvet, he whispers, “Your lipstick was smudged.”
At his words, my hand shoots up to wipe my mouth, probably smearing whatever is left of my lipstick. “Thanks.”
Tomer shifts in his chair behind me, the squeak ending the moment.
Thank goodness.
I was no more than eight seconds away from slipping under Klein’s desk and earning his cock in all the depraved ways he desires.
A little under two hours later, I’ve prepared a detailed dossier on the senator, his wife, and his daughter. All the basics are laid out to ensure the field team has the information they need to protect her safely. Demographics, close acquaintances, school and work schedule, social media profiles, and more. Basics on the neighborhood and surrounding residents are also included, and there’s even a summary of legislation the senator’s involved with, which might point to potential adversaries.
Tomer looks over my shoulder to ensure I crossed all myt’sand dotted thei’s. “Does it pass muster, T-man?”
“Looks good. Send it to Henderson and Junior, and copy Big Al. Then you can start on your task list. Let’s see how long it takes to bust the bad guy.” He lifts his wrist and pinches both sides of his G-SHOCK watch. “I’m timing you. Go.”
I flip him off, drawing the tiniest grin from him. It’s nice to see he’s not still mad at me for using him to bait Klein.
Why did I do that? What the hell is the matter with me? When will I grow up?
There’s this thing called impulse control. I don’t have it.
If it hasn’t happened in the first thirty-six years of my life, the odds aren’t good it’s going to happen anytime soon.
As I work through my brainstormed task list, something nags at the back of my mind, but I can’t focus on it while I’m sitting next to Klein. His hotness is even more distracting now that I know he still wants me.
I log off and lock my workstation. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to do some of this in my office. I need a change of scenery. Feeling stir-crazy.”
“We’re here if you need us,” Klein says without looking away from the screen.
Tomer flicks his wrist at me, giving me an awkward wave.
By the time I get to my office, close the door, and boot my tower PC, I have a private chat message from him.
Tomer
Stir-crazy? Really? You can do better than that.
A wideninggrin pushes my cheeks up.
Mia
It’s true.
Tomer
Okay. I “believe” you.
Mia
??
Tomer
The stopwatch is still running.
Before I can openthe task list to start working through it, another chat window pops up.
Really, guys? Both of you messaging me not sixty-seconds after I leave our shared space?
