Page 75 of Brassy Bigwig

“Would you meet me in my office in a minute? I’d like a word.”

My face drops slightly, and anxiety creeps in. Did I do something wrong? Is D having second thoughts about being with me? Maybe it wasn’t desire I thought I saw? But then why would he call me théa?

I give D a moment to get situated before I get up from my chair and straighten my skirt, getting out the wrinkles in the back from sitting down. I walk into his office but stop just over the threshold when I don’t see him at his desk. Almost immediately, something grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me to the left of the doorway. I squeal as I’m spun around, and in seconds flat, D has my back up against the wall and his lips on mine.

“You’re going to get tired of me, but I can’t help it. I had to talk myself out of coming to your apartment several times since you left yesterday just so I could see you. I don’t like being away from you for so long.”

“I highly doubt I’ll ever get tired of you, and I missed you, too. Next time you get the urge to come see me, you should do it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He brings his lips to mine once more, and his velvet-soft tongue darts out into my mouth. The feel of it takes me back to this weekend again. The countless times he traced my body with it. I think about the many times it found its way between my legs. The way he flicked the tip of it against my clit.

He catches my soft moan in his mouth, and I feel his cock harden against my stomach.

“Do you know how badly I wish we were working from my penthouse today?” He tears his lips from mine. “No… even better. I would give anything to work remotely with you for the next three months from my yacht as we sail from island to island with no clear destination in mind. I want to fuck you on every continent, Chloe.”

“You can do that?”

“Fuck you on every continent? You better fucking believe it,” he explains, rubbing his hands up and down my ribcage.

“No, I mean work from a yacht in the middle of the ocean.”

“I worked from my yacht about seventy-five percent of the time when I was still in California.”

“That sounds… incredible.”

Just then, the ding of the elevator echoes through the lobby.

“I swear to God, I’ll strangle whoever it is that’s about to interrupt us.”

D walks away quickly, as I hurry to the couch in the middle of the room. Picking up the pad of paper, I realize there’s no pen or pencil around for me to pretend like I’m doing something constructive. I don’t have any time to think about it, though. D begins speaking right before a knock sounds on his open office door.

“After that, I need you to—Randall, good morning.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” his eyes flit from me to D and back.

Shit, can he tell we were just making out? Are our lips swollen?

“Not a problem. Chloe, I’ll catch up with you in a little while,” D says, dismissing me from his office.

I’m more than happy to leave. That was a close call, and I’m still not convinced our behavior isn’t blatantly obvious to everyone around us.

I have a feeling this secret relationship of ours isn’t as secret as we think it is.

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