Page 73 of Dirty Little Secrets
I grit my teeth. “Ididfix it. The discourse has shifted. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“No!” Javier growls, slamming his hand on the edge of my desk. “I wanted you to stop acting so fucking erratic! This…” He points a firm finger on the newspaper. “Pledging ten fucking million dollars to a charity without board approval? This is erratic!”
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms across my chest. “It’s not like the money isn’t there. And it’s for a good cause.”
“That’s not the point, Damon. You know that. Wehave protocols and procedures…” Javier trails off, his voice growing hoarse with frustration.
“I know,” I say, with a resigned sigh. “I just…” I pause, searching for the right words. The last thing Javier needs to know is that this was Emery’s plan, not mine. That would guarantee my institutionalization. “This was time-sensitive. I needed to act right away. I didn’t have the luxury of following proper procedure.”
Javier’s expression softens slightly. “I understand that, Damon, but we have procedures in place for a reason, especially when we have a corporate budget to uphold.”
“It won’t happen again,” I say in a clipped tone. “I’ve already sent an email to the board explaining the situation. It’s dealt with Javier, okay? You?—”
A light knock sounds from the door. “Am I interrupting?”
Javier snaps his head at Emery. “Ye?—”
“Not at all. We’re done here,” I say, glowering at Javier. “He was just leaving.”
Emery lets out a small gasp as Javier storms past her, nearly knocking her off her feet.
“Well, someone’s in a bad mood,” she says, closing the door behind her as she steps into my office. I drop my head into my hands, releasing a heavy sigh. “Oh, and apparently it’s contagious. What’s wrong?”
“About ten million things are wrong, Miss Jones,” I grumble as she rounds my desk. “The board’s on my ass about your little donation.” I peer up at her, and she gives me a cheeky little pout. “What?”
“You looked stressed,” she hums, dropping a folderon my desk before striding toward me. “Are you stressed,misterCavanaugh?”
“Is it that obvious, Miss Jones?” I spin my chair, following her lead and leaning back. The mischievous look she gives me jolts my system, blood rushing through my veins with anticipation. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Maybe…” She gives me a coy shrug as she settles between my parted legs and leans over. The top button of her emerald blouse pops open, her breath tickling my ear as she whispers, “I’m a little stressed too.”
“Is that so?” I rasp, gripping the armrest as her wandering hand finds the outline of my cock, rubbing it up and down in slow, calculated strokes.
“Mhmm.” Her teeth graze against the soft shell of my ear before she bites down, a brief burst of pain flaring my arousal. “I think we both need a little break, don’t you?”
“As much as I’d love to take a break, Miss Jones…” I swallow, intoxicated by her humming voice. “We both have a lot of projects to complete today and—” Emery’s pressure deepens, and my spine curves from her menacing touch. “Jesus Christ.”
“Oh, come on,misterCavanaugh.” Her tongue trails a wet path down the length of my neck. “We deserve to celebrate, don’t we? We avoided a giant PR crisis.”
Her voice drops to a debilitating timbre as she sinks down on her knees in front of me, those big fucking eyes of hers peering up at me through a black veil of lashes. Biting her bottom lip, she slowly unbuckles my belt, thumbing the zipper and dragging it down.
“Looks likesomeonewants to celebrate,” she says as my cock springs free, standing erect and throbbing before her. She tilts her head, palming the base of my shaft. “Just a little? Hmm?”
“I have a…” Fucking brat. My thigh muscles clench, hips bucking forward, a ripple of pleasure washing over me as she bends over, taking all eight inches in that smart mouth of hers. “Fuck.”
I place my hand on the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair, gripping the roots as she bobs up and down, spit dripping down my cock. Sensing my preferred speed, she does exactly what she’s not supposed to and speeds up, cupping my balls in her free hand and rolling them in her palm.
“Slow down,” I rasp, my sac hard and heavy and pulsing in her tormenting hold. “Slow.”
A low, devilish chuckle escapes her lungs as she comes up for air, replacing her mouth with both hands. With teary eyes and smeared makeup, she strokes my cock, unflinching and unafraid.
“Are you going to come already, Mr. Cavanaugh?”
“Is that what you want, Miss Jones?” I grunt, cupping her chin roughly between my fingers as she picks up speed. “You want me to come for you?” She nods, moaning as my thumb dips in between her dirty fucking lips. “Open your mouth for me, mami. Open your fucking mouth so you can taste me?—”
My command is drowned out by three hard knocks on the door.
Fuck.
