Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)

by Lily Harlem

  “Stella.”

  “Yes.”

  “I…” He frowned slightly, the shadows licking over his face.

  “What?” Did he want me to invite him up? Is that what I should be saying right now?

  “I really am glad that you’ve joined Wainwright and Bramon and I hope you stay, even when things get … busy.”

  “Me too and I’m sure I can handle it.”

  He swallowed. “So, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I hesitated. An invitation forming on my lips.

  But before I could say anything, he leaned forward and cupped my jawline in his palm.

  He then pressed a soft kiss to my left cheek, his lips lingering on my skin and his stubble scratching slightly.

  I held my breath, the feel of his body so close to mine, the heat radiating from him. It all did crazy things to my hormones. Fuck, if just a peck on the cheek felt like this what would it be like if we…?

  He pulled back and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Andre.” I drew my hands into fists. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, pull him in for another kiss, on my mouth this time. But I didn’t. I sat there frozen as he looked at me, still holding my cheek.

  “That’ll be fifteen quid,” the driver said, flicking on the white light at the front of the vehicle.

  “I’m going on from here.” Andre dropped his hand though continued to keep his attention on my face.

  “Sure thing, mate.”

  I sat forward and opened the door. “Sleep well.”

  “You too.”

  I got out of the car and hunted for my key. The cab pulled away and I resisted the urge to stare after it longingly. It was just as well Andre had the good sense not to take things further. A few glasses of wine and dinner with a handsome man had clearly released my libido and it was clambering for attention.

  God only knows what would have happened between me and my boss had I invited him up.

  Chapter Three

  I took the elevator to the fifth level and let myself into my home. I leaned back against the locked front door. My skin tingled and my head swam with images of Andre. The sound of his voice lingered in my ears. I felt as though I’d had an injection of lust into my bloodstream and it was making my breasts ache and my pussy tremble.

  My apartment was dark and quiet. I pressed my hand to my chest, cupping my breast over my light jacket. Oh God, if only I’d felt him do that. If only he were here now, kissing me wildly, ripping off my clothes, preparing to get carnal up against the door.

  Quickly, I removed my jacket, I dropped that and my purse to the floor with a quiet thud. I groaned as need washed through me. I should have made that invite.

  I gripped the hem of my skirt and yanked it up so it rucked around my waist like a belt. Would he have done that? Would he have been fast and crazed with desire? Did Andre have unsated desires tonight too?

  Slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of my knickers, I cupped my mound.

  “Oh fuck.” I wished my hand were bigger, like Andre’s, so I could really imagine what it would be like if he were here, finishing our evening with a passion-infused encounter.

  I shut my eyes and pressed my head against the door. How I longed for a big, hard, hot body against mine. I widened my stance, sought out my damp entrance and pushed my index and middle fingers inside. My knees gave way a little as the heel of my palm caught on my clit. I locked my legs and pressed harder against my needy nub.

  What I wouldn’t give to have him here, now, doing this.

  With my free hand I squeezed my breast harder through my clothing, not caring about creases on my top.

  My mind buzzed with wine and longing. My pulse beat loud in my ears. I knew what I was doing was indulgent and spontaneous but it was also sexy and oh, so necessary.

  I continued to work my pussy. The first tendrils of a climax building and swarming in my pelvis. Cool air washed over my thighs, and the soft scent of my arousal breezed upward.

  “Andre,” I gasped, pinching my breast to the point of pain. “Yes…”

  I pictured his face hovering over mine. Imagined it was his hand on my breast and his cock in my cunt. I was nearly there. I knew just how to hit my spot and in this horny mood, I only needed another few seconds.

  “Oh, God, yes…” I gasped and thought of him coming with me. The sounds he’d make, the grunts and pants, the words that would spill from his beautiful mouth in the throes of passion. What would it be like?

  “Andre.” I balanced on the edge of bliss, my body held hostage to the incredible release about to spill from my pussy. I held my breath, willed my spine to stay upright, then allowed pleasure to consume me as I pictured him over me.

  I shoved my hand through my hair, tugged the roots. The white-hot sensation of my orgasm shot over my skin, through my bones and juddered out of me in several powerful spasms.

  I dragged in air, worked my pussy until the last pulse of ecstasy squeezed my fingers.

  I opened my eyes to the darkness. Saw the shadow of the door to my lounge and the golden glow that would be drifting through the window from the streetlamps below.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, taking my hand from my knickers.

  A sudden vision of what I must have looked like, masturbating so furiously, still clothed, the second I’d had privacy, flashed through my mind.

  What the hell would Andre think of that?

  I giggled, pressed my fragrant fingers to my lips and pushed away from the door. I felt wanton, ravished by myself. It was a good feeling.

  Would he have enjoyed the show? Or would he have been shocked? Perhaps he was an in-the-dark-beneath-the-duvet-missionary-position-only type of guy.

  As I walked, I shucked off my skirt and blouse, then kicked my heels aside, enjoying the freedom of only wearing my underwear. A flutter of movement in the corner caught my attention. “Lullabelle.”

  My fluffy cream and tan cat sauntered toward me, tail pointing straight up.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, scooping her into my arms and enjoying the feel of her fur against my skin. “Had a good day?”

  She replied with a meow and I kissed the top of her head. I’d had her for eight years and she was one of my best friends. “Do you want some supper? I’m sorry I’m so late home.”

  Another meow.

  I headed into the kitchen. It was compact but perfectly proportioned and painted a pale pink. I’d gone chintzy with flowery patterns on nearly everything. Maybe one day I’d have a country cottage kitchen or something big, modern and sleek, but until then, this was perfectly fine.

  After flicking on the light and putting Lullabelle on the floor, I set about dishing up some of her favorite gourmet cat food. She coiled her body around my legs, rubbing her face against my flesh in an adoring way.

  She rushed for the bowl as soon as I placed it on her little rose patterned mat.

  “There you go.” I stroked her, head to tail, poured a glass of water, and then wandered into my bedroom.

  For a moment, I stared at the empty bed set in the shadows. I’d really had enough of being single. What had just happened proved that. I wanted a special person in my life—a sexy, charming man who had values and principles and was above all, a gentleman.

  Just like Andre.

  I took a sip of my drink. I had to rehydrate otherwise I’d wake with a headache after those two big glasses of wine.

  Maybe I could get another job, then I could date Andre and we wouldn’t be colleagues, he wouldn’t be my boss. That would remove the complication, wouldn’t it? Trouble was, I’d been looking for this job for a while, and I’d been lucky to get the PA position at Wainwright and Bramon with so little competition.

  No, leaving my job, at least not so early on and voluntarily, wasn’t an option.

  I’d just have to think of another solution, or, what was probably the best option, stop having filthy fantasies about my employer and getting myself off whi
le gasping his name.

  That would be the sensible thing to do.

  But when had I ever been sensible when it came to matters of the heart, or more importantly, matters of the erotic variety?

  ****

  Andre was late into the office the next morning. He’d had a meeting on the other side of town and I was glad for the time to down a couple cups of coffee. It also meant I got on with typing up a pile of letters he’d dictated the day before.

  “Hey Stella, how are you?”

  I looked up at Jenny, the young woman who’d shown me to Andre’s office when I’d come for my interview. She was in charge of accounts. “I’m good thanks, you?”

  “Well, I’ve had an argument with my boyfriend, but apart from that.” She shrugged and smiled sweetly.

  “Oh…” I paused. “I hope you work it out with him.”

  “I’m sure I will, once he’s calmed down. He’s so hot-tempered.” She nodded at Andre’s office door. “Is he back yet?”

  “No, but he shouldn’t be long now.”

  “I’ll wait in there for him then.” She took a step toward his office.

  “Actually, he’s got a conference call when he gets back, he’s only just going to make it at this rate. Can I leave him a message?” I kept my voice light and easy, the conference call wasn’t imminent but still he had a pile of things on his desk that needed urgent attention.

  She frowned. “Well in that case, yes, can you give him these figures? They just need his approval and a signature.”

  “Of course. Leave it with me and I’ll have it back to you by the end of the day.”

  “Perfect.” She smiled and walked away.

  A sense of satisfaction went through me as I went back to my typing. The staff would soon change their ways. I just had to be firm.

  Half an hour later, Andre walked up to my desk. He held a briefcase and a damp umbrella.

  My heart picked up as I studied the sprinkle of sparkling raindrops on his shoulders. “Is it raining?” Damn, what a stupid question.

  “Yes, pouring.” He rolled his eyes. “Is everything going all right here?”

  “Fine. I’ve got a few things to go through with you when you have a minute.”

  “I have a minute now.”

  “Sure?”

  “For you, anything.” He tipped his head and smiled.

  It was the same soft smile he’d used in the restaurant the night before and any resolve I’d had about nothing ever happening between us had a great big chunk chopped out of it. “Well I’m afraid it’s nothing exciting, just bits and pieces to approve and sign. Oh, and Bill Trent called, from Ciren. He said he wants to move up a level and have another meeting.”

  “He did?” Andre raised his eyebrows. “That’s great news. I’ll call him back this afternoon.”

  “Are you doing much with Ciren?” I’d heard of them. They were a big travel agency that were entirely internet based but taking the holidaying masses by storm.

  “Not at the moment but that sounds very promising.” He dropped his umbrella in a stand by his office door and headed in, shucking out of his jacket as he did so.

  I stood, scooped up the files I needed to show him, and followed.

  As I shut the door, a huge clap of thunder rolled overhead.

  “I just made it back in time,” Andre said, hanging his coat up and nodding at the dark clouds that had turned the sky black.

  “Yes.” A huge flash of lightning filled the room then another rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. “Bloody hell.” I clasped my hand to my chest.

  He turned to me. “You don’t like storms?”

  “They’re not my favorite thing in the world.” I swallowed.

  He stepped up to me. “You’re safe in here.”

  The dull light in the room cast shadows on his cheeks and I stared into his eyes. I remembered how I’d masturbated the evening before, thinking of him, wanting him, his name on my lips.

  I still wanted him.

  He glanced at the door.

  “Last night,” he said quietly. “I wished…”

  “What?”

  He pressed his lips together and took the files from my hand. He stepped away and set them on the table.

  I admired the way he moved with simple grace for such a tall man.

  “What did you wish?” I asked.

  He looked out of the window, his back to me.

  I sensed there was more, much more. What couldn’t he say but had started to? Did he wish he’d taken me to bed? Did he wish he hadn’t taken me to dinner? Perhaps he’d decided our evening together hadn’t been professional…

  That thought hit me like a punch to the guts. Damn. He regretted it. He wished he hadn’t spent time with me in a non-professional way.

  “I understand,” I said, stepping up to the desk and placing Jenny’s figures on top of the pile. “That you want to keep it purely professional between us.”

  “What do you mean?” He turned to me.

  “No more dinners out. I understand. For the record that’s all it was, dinner out.” I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant while inside I wanted to scream.

  “For the record?” He moved closer.

  I turned to face him. He was so close I backed up. My ass hit the desk.

  “No more dinners out?” he said, scowling.

  There was another dazzling flash and roar of thunder, it was so loud the window rattled. I started slightly and gasped in a breath

  “Stella.” His pupils were wide, his chest only inches from mine. “Is that what you want? To only see me at work?”

  Damn, I could fall into those eyes as easily as I could fall into bed with him. “I don’t know what the right answer is here.” I shook my head.

  He caught my cheek in his palm, the way he had in the cab the night before. “When I went home last night…” He tilted his chin slightly. “You were all I could think about.”

  “I was?”

  “And I kept wondering what you must make of me. A divorcee, workaholic, no interesting hobbies to converse about.”

  “I think you’re very interesting.” And he’d be even more interesting naked.

  “That’s kind of you to say.” He swept his thumb over my cheek. “But you’re the first person who’s made me look at myself that way since…”

  “Your wife?”

  “Yes, and maybe I should … change, start dating again.”

  “Yes. That would be good.” He was still holding my face, the heat from his hand warming my skin. “Everyone should have someone special in their life.”

  “I agree.” He paused. “But the thing is…”

  “What?”

  “I want to date you.”

  “You do?”

  “Can’t you feel it? Between us? There’s something…”

  “Andre.” I paused as the storm raged, another drum of thunder banged overhead. I didn’t jump this time. I was too distracted by the gorgeous man looming before me. “But…?”

  “You’re my personal assistant and we’ve only just met … but…” He leaned closer.

  I could see every whisker of stubble, each individual eyelash. And his scent, the outdoors, rain, musk, man, everything I’d been missing in my life.

  “But I don’t care if it gets complicated,” he murmured. “I want you.”

  He cupped my other cheek, held my head steady, then set his lips over mine.

  It was a glorious soft kiss that made me feel so desired.

  And I desired him too. So damn much it was beginning to hurt. I reached up and clasped his forearms over his suit jacket, felt hard tendons and muscle through the material.

  He pulled back a fraction. “Stella,” he whispered against my lips.

  “Mmm?”

  “Tell me you want me too.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” I stared into his eyes. “Even if it gets complicated.”

  “It won’t. I won’t let it.” He kissed me again, his mouth parted and he peeked his
tongue between my teeth.

  A small groan unraveled in my throat. This is what I’d been dreaming of doing since the day I’d met my new boss. And now it was happening. It was all kinds of foolish but I was on that crazy train and hanging on for the ride. Hell, I was driving that damn crazy train.

  The heat of the kiss intensified and he ran one hand down my back, holding me tight as he pressed closer, trapping me between his big, hard body and the desk.

  I was flying high, lost in the moment. My lust had been unleashed and now those images of us naked and sweaty in my bed were rushing back. Heck, here would do, over the desk, right now. Did the office door have a lock on it? Yes, I was sure it had.

  I slipped my hands around to the back of his neck and pressed my chest against his.

  “You’ve got me all tied up in knots,” he said, kissing over my cheek.

  Slanting my head to give him access to my neck, I stared at his neat hair.

  “Andre…” I loved how his name sounded when I was breathless.

  “Mmm…”

  “I don’t care about complicated and I’m not afraid to take a risk.”

  “Me neither.” He raised his head and grinned, his cheeks were flushed. “But I guess that’s what I adore about you. You’re a strong, brave woman who…”

  Knock. Knock.

  “Fuck,” Andre said, stepping away and straightening his tie.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, moving from the desk and smoothing my blouse. I reached for a piece of paper and held it in both hands.

  Andre glanced at me, then at the door. “Come in.”

  It opened and James stepped in. “Andre, I want to talk to you about color projections for the Gent project.” He halted and looked at me. “Is now a good time?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes. Fine.” I set what I now saw was a blank piece of paper on Andre’s desk. “If you could sign those papers, Andre. I’ll get them distributed.”

  “Of course.” He moved to his chair, checking the collar at his nape was smooth as he went. “It won’t take long.”

  Pulling in a deep breath, I stepped past James, then walked back to my desk. I sat, heavily. My stomach was tight, my heart racing and I could taste my new boss on my lips.