Page 54 of Dirty Little Secrets
Emery lifts an amused brow. “I thought perks were confined to the…office.Are we changing the rules, Mr. Cavanaugh?”
“They’re your rules, Miss Jones,” I say, peering down at her with hooded eyes. “Do you wish to amend the amendment?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I cock my head, smirking. “Let’s not pretend there’s nothing in it for you, Miss Jones.” I arch over, whispering in her ear. “Need I remind you just how hard you came last night?” Releasing a hushed whimper,Emery lowers her legs, spreading her thighs open for me. “I thought you were still sore? Are we suddenly healed?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” she breathes, finding my hand under the blanket and guiding it past the waistband of her cotton leggings. My fingers glide against the budding wetness, her instant arousal to my touch assuring me of our undeniable connection. She closes her eyes, cheeks flushed as I massage her clit. “Gentle. You can be gentle, right, Mr. Cavanaugh?”
“I can try.”For you.Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her against my chest, nails digging into her jacket as she squirms around me. Flicking her tender clit with my thumb, I slide a finger deep into her soft pussy, being careful and controlled in my movements. “Like this?”
“Mhmm,” she hums, moaning into my shoulder, her pussy clenching around my finger as I dip in and out of her. “More…” She flicks her eyelids open, staring at me with veiled innocence as she begs again. “More.” My cock hardens as her plea fills my ears, and I add a second finger, stretching her open, quickening my pace. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t…” Her legs quiver, a sharp, melodic moan echoing into the atmosphere. “Faster, Damon. I’m so…” I stop. “Wha—” She frowns, panting. “Why’d you?—”
“If you want to finish, Miss Jones, I’ll see you in my office at noon,” I smirk, pulling my fingers out, her juices dripping down my hand. Frustration oozes from her, but she can’t conceal her intrigue. I lick my fingers. “Mmm, so sweet.”
“For a man that doesn’t like games,” Emery says, glaring at me as she stands up in a huff, “you sure play a lot of them.” She picks up her thermos and mug. “Well, guess what?” She shoots me a combative glare. “I can play games too.”
“Is that so?”
“A certain someone sent me a gift last night.” A sly grin spreads on her face as she nods down to the small ornate wooden box with various squares and rectangular shapes adorning the edges. “Can you guess who?” My expression hardens. “It came with a note.” She tilts her head. “I guess I’ll accept his invitation to lunch.”
“The hell you will,” I grunt, standing up. “He has no business contacting you.”
“Well, Iwasgoing to ignore him but,” she shrugs, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
My lip twitches. “You will decline.”
“Mmm…no, I don’t think I will.” She picks up the box, propping it under her arm. “Don’t worry, Mr. Cavanaugh. You canpunishme later.”
The void returns, expanding rapidly as she walks away, leaving me alone with the rising sun.
THE PUZZLE BOX
EMERY
The last thingI expected to come home to after my night at Club Hades with Damon was a parcel from Quinton sitting outside my front door. I got to give him credit. The man works fast. I reread the handwritten note.
You looked absolutely radiant leaving The Playroom tonight. If you’re having difficulties solving the puzzle, I’m only a phone call away. A date for a clue? Seems like a fair trade to me. And trust me, you’ll want to see what’s inside. - Q
My gaze shifts to theJapanese puzzle box on my desk. I’ve been to enough antique stores to spot a Himitsu-Bako. A personal secret box. Before encrypted emails and iron-clad safes, these puzzle boxes served as a form of protection for a person’s secrets and keepsakes. Only with the correct combination of twists and turns can the box be opened, the contents revealed.
I tap my nails on the sliding pieces that I’ve spent the majority of the night trying to decipher. He’s hidden something inside. Something special. Something secret. My curiosity was piqued the moment I saw the hundreds of wooden panels, but I know where Damon stands regarding my interactions with Quinton. I wasn’t going to call him. I wasn’t going to give this peculiar box any more thought. I was going to ignore it. Throw it away. Pretend it didn’t happen.
Too bad Damon is a greedy little man.
And too bad that I can be a vindictive bitch.
“Emery Jones,” Quin coos, answering the phone, “what a surprise. I didn’t think you’d be calling so soon. I take it you received my gift. How do you like it? Have you solved the puzzle yet?”
“How did you get my address?” I ask, rolling my eyes as Damon sends me a fifth passive-aggressive message on our inter-office messaging system. “I don’t believe I’m listed anywhere.”
Quinton chuckles. “Oh, little Emery. Cavanaugh isn’t the only man who has infinite resources at his disposal. If I wanted to, I could pinpoint your exact location at this very moment.”
“You and Damon both seem to need professionalhelp,” I muse. “Most women find invasion of privacy to be creepy rather than charming.”
“Do you think I’m trying to charm you, darling?” he asks, and I can damn near see the smirk on his face. “If I was trying to charm you, believe me, you’d be charmed.”
“Do you take me for a snake, Doctor?”
