Page 81 of Pressure

Did you know of all your lead developers and department managers, only two are women?

He didn't respond right away so she went back to the work at hand. Fifteen minutes later, her phone buzzed.

I'll be honest, it hadn't occurred to me. That's problematic. I'm sorry.

She smiled. Admitting a shortcoming wasn't easy for Lance. She tapped out one more text before focusing on the job at hand.

Don't apologize, just promise you'll do something to fix it. I've got ideas we can discuss at lunch.

Three hours later, one of the department heads hinted that it was lunchtime, so she dismissed everyone and leaned back in her chair. Working on programming and tech again was a dream come true, but she hated that she wasn't doing it for her own company. Did she really want to go back to work for Lance? Deep down, she knew the answer was no. At the same time, she didn't want to be in competition with Lance either. The phone on her desk rang and she frowned. There was no reason for anyone to be calling her here. Then she spotted the caller ID screen on the cradle and grinned.

"Good afternoon, Moss Tech," she said in a sultry, breathless voice.

"You have ten minutes to meet me in the ninth-floor stairwell, Miss Sullivan," Lance growled in her ear.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Moss. I have a lunch engagement," she teased.

"Ten minutes, Marissa. If you're late, I'll punish you."

Then the line went dead, and Marissa stared at the phone. Did she want to test him? She glanced at the clock and dialed a number.

Dr. Hoffman answered on the third ring.

"Is everything OK, Marissa?" the kind doctor asked.

"All good. I was calling to see if you could squeeze me and possibly Lance in for an appointment this week."

"Let me transfer you to my receptionist and she'll make it work."

"Shit. Sorry. I should have just called the office phone."

The therapist waved away her concerns and transferred her. As she walked down the hall to the elevators, she confirmed an appointment for that evening and hoped she could convince Lance to join her.

She pressed the button for the eleventh floor, figuring she could walk down the last two floors.

When she stepped off the elevator, she glanced at her smart watch. She needed to run if she were going to make it on time. Though part of her was tempted to see just how Lance would punish her if she were late. Her heart raced as she pushed through the stairwell door and began her descent to the ninth floor. Why the ninth floor, she wondered. Lance's office was at the top of the building and as far as she knew, the ninth floor wasn't even part of his company.

Lance leaned against the wall as she approached the door for the ninth floor. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. He wore a deep green button-up shirt tucked into midnight black pants. His sleeves were rolled up and his hands were stuffed casually into his pockets as he watched her approach. He'd taken off the tie she'd watched him knot this morning. He never had liked ties and only wore them when he was meeting with an important client.

"God, you're fucking hot," she blurted as he pulled one hand out of his pocket and offered it to her. His gaze was smoldering as it raked her body and for a moment, she felt naked as his lust washed over her.

Before she knew what was happening, he pushed her beneath the stairs and crushed his lips to hers.

He hiked her skirt up around her waist and she protested. "Lance. Stop. People might see."

He nipped at her neck and cupped her pussy over her panties.

"Relax. This floor is closed off right now for some construction. Nobody is coming this way. Now be a good girl and let me fuck you."

She swallowed. They'd never fucked at work before. But she was his, and she wanted to prove that, so she nodded her consent.

"Turn and face the stairs and put your arms above your head, kitten," he purred in her ear as he stepped a short distance from her. When she did as he asked, he settled his hands on her hips and shoved her until she stood closer to the railing. One hand left her, and she heard the rustle of his pants as he pushed a hand into his pocket. His hand came around and he dangled his tie in front of her face. Was he going to tie her up? Her pulse pounded in her throat as he captured her wrists and bound them together. Then he lowered her arms and ordered her to bend at the waist. Soon, he'd attached the free ends of the tie to the railing, knotting it so she couldn't move far.

At a snail pace, he dragged her panties down her thighs and ran a finger up her seam. "I'm definitely instituting a no panties at work rule, Miss Sullivan," he murmured as he palmed her ass.

She heard the faint sound of his zipper and soon felt the head of his cock pressed against her folds. She gripped the tie as he plowed into her.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but he wrenched a hand into her hair and tugged. "Nobody can hear you, Marissa. Don't you dare hold back."

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