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“So,” I began, “did you make anyone cry today?”
“Cry?” he echoed, his brow puckering.
“Yeah. You know. Sob. Weep. Bawl. Wail.”
He responded with a flat stare. “I know what ‘cry’ means. I simply have no idea why you think I might reduce someone to such a state. I’m not your father.”
Snickering, I rummaged into the deli bag and pulled out two bottles of water. I could not deny that my dad was renowned for making his employees blubber. “You think I’m fooled because you’re all ease and charm toward your coworkers?Please.You make a point of knowing them all by name and making them feel ‘seen’ so that they’ll be even more scared to disappoint you than they already were.” I set the bottles on the table. “And it works.”
Mirth swimming in his eyes, he rubbed at his jaw. “Hmm. Well, as far as I know, there have been no tears shed among my employees today. But it’s early yet.”
“Somehow, I knew you were gonna add that last bit.” I dug out a club sandwich and handed it to him. “Here.”
“Thank you. How’s your day going so far?”
“Pretty well.” I fished my own sandwich out of the bag and then unwrapped it. “I spent all morning in my office, as usual.”
“So did I,” he told me, nabbing his drink. “I have some external meetings coming up, though.” He unscrewed the cap from his bottle. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“I have a meeting with a museum manager who wants to throw a cut-the-red-ribbon event to celebrate the opening of a new exhibit.” I took a bite out of my sandwich, almost groaning in delight as the tastes of eggs, cress, and mayonnaise exploded on my tongue. “I also have to meet with a wedding photographer, but that shouldn’t take long.”
Between sips of our drinks and bites of our food, we chatted about this and that. It was nice. Different. And I regretted not having done it sooner.
I hadn’t been sure how he’d respond to my showing up like this without warning. I’d almost called him earlier to check if he’d be okay with it. But I’d decided to instead take the chance and surprise him. I was glad I had, and I made a mental note to do it again at some point in the future.
Once done with our lunch, we used the wet wipes to clean our mouths and hands. I tossed all the trash into the deli bag and then looked at Dax, about to ask if he wanted one of the complimentary mints. Instead, I stilled … because a heat was building in his eyes.
“What?” I asked, my stomach doing a little flip.
He drummed his fingers on the armrest, his focus solely on me. “I was just remembering when you walked into my office months ago. Remembering how I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you right here.” His fingers went still. “I’ve decided I’m going to do it now instead.”
Before I knew it, I was behind his desk, my front plastered to its surface, my skirt hiked up around my waist, and he was pounding into me like he was in the grips of a goddamn sexual fever.
I was so high on the bliss coursing through me, making me wind tighter and tighter, that I was barely aware of the buzzing sound that came from his office phone until he ceased thrusting and pressed a button.
“Yes?” he asked flatly, nothing in his voice giving away that he was smack bam in the middle of fucking. Hell, he didn’t even sound out of breath.
“Sir,” began Benjamin, “A Mr. Grayden Ackehurst is at the reception desk downstairs. He wishes to speak with you.”
The words sliced through my pleasure-filled daze, making me go stock-still.
“Does he now?” Dax muttered, rearing his hips back, withdrawing his cock in a smooth glide until only the thick head was inside me. “Tell them to let him up.”
Let him up? Ugh.Both frustrated and disappointed that we’d have to stop, I reluctantly began to straighten. But a hand pressed down on my nape, pushing me back down against the cool wood, eliciting a surprised gasp from me.
“No, we’re going to finish,” Dax rumbled, shoving his cock deep. “When he walks in here, you’re going to have my come inside you.” He resumed fucking in and out of me, his angle perfect, his thrusts hard, his pace wild.
I grabbed at the edges of his desk to anchor myself as the tension in my belly built and swirled and contracted. A hand sank into my hair and roughly wrenched up my head. He said something, but I didn’t hear it, because my orgasm chose that moment to swallow me whole.
He slapped his palm over my mouth to muffle my scream and powered into me harder and faster. With a grunt-growl-groan, he wedged his cock unbearably deep as his own release burst over him.
Normally, I’d have gone pliant against the desk as I recovered from my orgasm, but I didn’t have time for that. As soon as Dax withdrew, I mentally pulled myself together, straightened up, and then turned to face him. “Just so you know,” I said, panting, “I’m making a mental note to bring you lunch at least once a week from here on out.”
His mouth quirking, Dax zipped up his fly, once again fully presentable since he hadn’t so much as opened a shirt button, let alone removed any clothing. “I’ll make sure I’m available.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I made quick work of righting my clothes and snatched my panties—the only layer I’d shed—from his office chair. “What could Grayden want?”
He gave an uncaring shrug. “No idea.”
