Page 212 of Sinful Lies

“Actually, there is something I’d like, boss.”

I smiled slightly, pushing him back playfully and getting off his lap. I reached for his hand, not missing the way his eyes darkened with interest.

He arched a brow, but didn’t hesitate, his long fingers wrapping around mine as he stood and followed me.

My fingers traced the edge of the table, tapping lightly against it.

“I’ve always liked this room, even if meetings dragged on forever. The way the sun breaks through the window, the oval shape of the room, the plush chairs…” I tilted my head, letting the words hang in the air. “It’s the perfect place for my little promotion.”

Angelo settled back in his chair, facing away from the window, looking like a king waiting for his subject to either beg for forgiveness, or beg for freedom.

He leaned back, legs spread wide. “Tell me more, Miss Whitenhouse.”

My nails clicked against the table, the sound deliberate and sharp.

I reached behind me, fingers brushing the zipper of my dress.

I pulled it down slowly, letting the movement drag, watching the way his eyes followed every inch. His tongue flicked over his lips, barely a whisper of a reaction.

The dress slid down, pooling at my feet. I stepped out of it, just as a low curse slipped from his mouth.

I’d been planning this, had it all figured out this morning. A little fantasy come to life—being fucked in this meeting room. The windows were all glass. Anyone who came up here would see us.

I was in a black thong, garters pulling my stockings tight against my skin, bows at the back of my legs. Nothing on my tits but two heart-shaped stickers on my nipples, barely covering anything.

I crawled onto the table, slowly, making sure he saw every inch of me.

The cold surface under my knees only made the heat between my legs tickle.

I stopped in the middle, sinking into my knees. My hands slid up my body, grabbing my tits, squeezing them together, fingers gently brushing over the heart-shaped stickers.

I tilted my head, meeting his gaze head-on, a flicker of challenge in my eyes.

He exhaled sharply. “Come closer.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Not yet, boss. I haven’t finished my presentation.”

I pushed up onto the table, hands dragging along the surface—legs, hips, tits, my fingers combing through my hair as I moved. Every shift was slow, making sure he caught every detail, the way my body curved and swayed.

His jaw tightened, eyes following me.

I tilted my hips, swaying from side to side. “I’ve been working hard to get your attention,” I said. “Guess it’s finally paying off, huh?”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes darker than ever. “You’ve always had it, Miss Whitenhouse. But now? Now it’sallyours.”

I turned away, letting my black hair fall like a veil, fingers brushing through it before I swept it to the side, showing my tattoo.

My naked back was exposed, the curve of it teasing him as I glanced back, catching the way his eyes ran down my spine.

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

Angelo Lazzio was turned on.

Very turned on.

The bulge in his pants was practically giving me a standing ovation.

“You know,” I whispered, “sometimes I’d spend extra time in your office—pretending to go over your files—just to feel your eyes on me. I’d drop something, on purpose, just so you could watch me bend over. Just so you’d get a peek at my ass.”

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