Page 77 of Sexting the Boss

I stare at the screen, my heart slamming into my ribs.

No.

Not now.

I swallow, my eyes darting around the table, but everyone is still focused on the presentation.

My notifications are silent, of course.

No one sees how my screen just betrayed me.

I exhale slowly, shifting in my chair, trying to ignore it.

Then—another.

Unknown Number: I bet you’re already squirming in your seat.

I squeeze my thighs together on instinct.

Heat crawls up my skin, pooling in places I really, really don’t need it to.

Not here.

Not in a meeting with the actual CEO of my company sitting less than ten feet away.

I force my hands back on the keyboard, trying to focus.

Quarterly trends suggest continued market growth?—

Unknown Number: Spread your legs a little. Feel how wet you’re getting for me.

I swallow hard.

The air in the room suddenly feels too thick. The voices muffle, the numbers on the screen blurring together.

Because he’s right.

I can feel it.

The slow, traitorous heat pooling low in my belly.

I reach for my trackpad, my hand trembling slightly, debating muting my notifications?—

But then—more messages, one after the other.

Unknown Number: I bet you’re already dripping. I want you to slide a hand between your legs, right now. Feel how soaked you are for me.

Unknown Number: I’d push my fingers inside you under the table, stretch that tight little cunt while everyone else sits through the meeting, completely unaware.

Unknown Number: You’d take it, wouldn’t you? You’d bite your lip and keep still while I fucked you open with my fingers, knowing you couldn’t make a sound.

Unknown Number: Or maybe I’d just bend you over this table. Have you moaning into the wood while I fill you up, stretch you until you can’t think of anything but me.

I press my thighs together so tightly I might as well be a vise.

And then?—

I make a huge mistake.

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