by Shelly Ellis
“Yes, I saw,” he murmured, gazing down at his phone screen again. He tossed his leather satchel onto one of the chairs near the sofa.
“Your flight and hotel reservations for later this month are confirmed,” she continued.
“Did you give them my suite specifications?” he asked as he turned on his computer.
She was going on another business trip with him, this time to Chicago. They had booked separate rooms for cover though he had specifically requested a California king in his room along with a Jacuzzi tub. He was getting hard again just thinking about what they could do in that tub.
“Yes, they have all that information,” Leila said with an efficient nod. “The concierge desk even called to confirm a few things. It’s all taken care of.”
“Good job, Leila.”
She lowered her notepad. “Thanks.”
“Just a few more questions and I’ll let you get back to work.” He pulled out his chair, took off his suit jacket, and tossed it over the back of the chair. “Could you shut the door though?”
She glanced at the opened doorway. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
He watched her as she walked. She was wearing a dress today—a sweet, floral light blue wrap dress with quarter-length sleeves.
A dress. Good, he thought as his eyes scanned her long legs then settled on her ass, which swayed back and forth as she walked. Dresses and skirts always made things easier.
She shut the door and started to turn to him. “I wasn’t sure if—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish. He already had crossed the room, wrapped her in his arms, and her back pressed against the door, which he had locked with a click, before he lowered his mouth to hers.
“You have a meeting in a half an hour,” she breathed against his lips as his hands slid up the backs of her thighs then gripped her bottom.
“Plenty of time,” he said as his lips shifted to her neck and he licked the skin, making her shiver.
He loved how she smelled. It was a zesty fragrance today—a mix of vanilla, orange, and some flowery scent he couldn’t quite place. He longed to bury his face in another smell right now, to dive between her legs and get a taste of her if she would let him.
“Evan,” she whispered warningly as he began to tug at her underwear, easing the lace fabric down her hips. “Evan!”
He could do it on his office desk. They had had sex there at least three times this month. Or they could try his conference table. That offered a little more support and there were fewer things he had to push aside. Or they could try old faithful—the office sofa. That would certainly be more comfortable for her.
“It is 8 a.m., Ev! Everyone is in the office. They’re going to hear us!”
He shook his head. “We can be quiet.”
Since they had started their affair a little more than a month ago, they had kept their dalliances to after hours, when the offices were deserted. On rare occasions he would meet Leila at her place whenever her mother had one of her bingo nights or was out with friends. Isabel was visiting her father in California so there were no worries about the seven-year-old running in on them.
Leila preferred those arrangements. She said there were less chances of them getting caught, but Evan didn’t always want to wait until the end of the day to touch her, kiss her, or plunge himself inside her. He didn’t want to be a good little boy and wait for his dessert. He had waited for twenty years for this! He had gone without sex for almost a year! Enough waiting. He wanted his cake—now!
“Evan,” she said again, though fainter this time as one hand slid to the front of her thighs and began to massage her between her legs. The other hand cupped her breast. He rolled his thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden through the fabric of her dress and her bra.
Her breath caught in her throat as he pushed the crotch of her panties aside, and teased the wetness between her thighs. She closed her eyes, bit down hard on her bottom lip, and arched her hips, meeting his touch even as he felt her push against his chest to ease him away. “Evan, come on. Stop! Please,” she whimpered.
Despite her protests, he knew he could have her anyway right here in his office. He knew which buttons to press now to make her tremble, to make her moan. But even though he wanted her—he loved her even more. If she really wasn’t comfortable doing this, he wouldn’t force her. She wanted the people in the office to respect her. They wouldn’t if they all figured out she was Evan’s mistress. He also had a facade he wanted to maintain, and he couldn’t do that if he lost control, if he gave in to every little desire.
He sighed, gave her one final kiss, and eased away from her. “Fine.”
She took a steadying breath, pushed down the hem of her dress, stepped away from the door, and walked further into his office. She picked up her notepad and pen, which had fallen to the hardwood floor. “I’ll make it up to you this evening. Don’t worry,” she whispered, making him raise an eyebrow.
“You’ve got something in mind?”
“Mama has an overnight shopping trip to some outlet and pottery factory in Delaware. She’s going with a friend. They leave this afternoon and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”
He instantly perked up. “So we’ve got all night?”
“Until the wee hours of the morning, if you’d like,” she said with a smirk, unlocking his door.
“Oh, I’d like.” He nodded eagerly. “I’d like a lot!”
“Good, then I guess I’ll see you tonight then,” she said seductively over her shoulder before opening his door and stepping back into the main office. She closed his door behind her.
Evan slowly exhaled, then looked down at his erection. He hoped he could wait that long.
Until then, he had twenty-four minutes to get rid of this hard-on.
At exactly 7 p.m., Evan rang the doorbell to the town house that he was now renting to Leila. He was the owner so thankfully, his occasional visits at odd hours didn’t raise too many eyebrows from the neighbors in the conservative, stately subdivision. At least, it didn’t raise the eyebrows of the few neighbors who bothered to notice the comings and goings of Leila and her family.
He heard Leila undo the dead bolt and another lock. The door cracked open and she peeked around the edge of the frame. He got a glimpse of the neatly decorated foyer behind her.
“Right on time! I was wondering if you’d be able to get away from the office with all the work you had.”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away!” he replied, making her chuckle. But she didn’t open the door further. He frowned. “Uh, can I come in?”
“Oh, sure! Of course,” she said, easing the door open a little more, but he could barely squeeze through the opening.
When she shut the door behind him and he saw what she was wearing, he instantly realized why she had only cracked the door a smidge.
Definitely wouldn’t want the neighbors to see this outfit, he thought.
She had on a red negligee with a halter top made of lace and some flimsy fabric that he ached to touch. He could see the thong beneath it, along with her dark areolas. She was wearing a garter belt and stockings. Towering red stilettos adorned her feet.
He let his gaze sweep over her appreciatively. “Well, damn! Is all this for me?”
She began to undo his belt then lower his zipper. “I told you I’d make it up to you,” she whispered against his lips.
“That you did.”
Leila began to nibble at his lips. She kissed him and he kissed her back eagerly. He fisted his hands in her hair, tilting back her head and pulling her closer to him so that their bodies were almost plastered together. She lowered his boxer briefs, wrapped her hand around his dick and began to slowly stroke him right there in the foyer.
“Ah, God,” Evan moaned just as she stepped back slightly. He watched as the beautiful woman he had adored and lusted after for years, slowly dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Good things come to those who wait, Ev,” she said before taking him in
to her warm, wet mouth, making him groan.
I couldn’t agree more, he thought as she sucked him to knee-buckling orgasm.
An hour later, Evan and Leila lay naked in her bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, taking a badly needed breather. They had made love twice already and probably would a few more times before the night was done—body and spirit willing! But, in the morning, he would take a shower, shave, and put on the change of clothes he’d brought with him. He would walk into the office thirty minutes after she had arrived (as planned), see her at her desk, exchange polite greetings, and the pretense would start all over again. Day after day, they would have to play these roles, and there seemed to be something sad and profoundly unfair about it all. Evan finally had the woman who completed him, and yet he had to pretend like she was just his assistant. He wanted the world to know that he was in love and finally happy for once in his damn life, and he couldn’t tell a soul. The only person he had told was Terrence, and even then, he had gotten a lecture.
“I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself, bruh,” Terrence had said with a shake of the head. “If you just got a divorce, you wouldn’t have to do all this sneaking around.”
Why can’t I just get a divorce? he thought, trailing his fingers down Leila’s shoulders while gazing at the ceiling. Why can’t I ask Lee to move in with me and give our relationship a real try?
“Because you’ve got too much to lose,” a voice in his head quickly answered.
He would probably lose his shirt in a divorce. When he and Charisse got married, they had signed a prenuptial agreement with a clause saying that either party had to pay a hefty penalty if either committed infidelity. He suspected that Charisse was also having an affair, but he couldn’t prove anything so far. If the truth about him and Leila came out, he’d have to pay Charisse a great deal of alimony and she would own half of his portion of Murdoch Conglomerated. Evan couldn’t do that to his brother and sister, make them have to share their legacy with the likes of Charisse.
Terrence had already warned him about the huge chance he was taking. “You’re walking a tightrope, Ev. Just hope you don’t go tumbling over the side. That ground is going to hurt like hell when you fall.”
Not to mention that Leila was still going through her own messy divorce. Even if Evan managed to make it out of his divorce with Charisse alive, who knew how long Leila’s divorce from Brad could continue to drag on.
And even if they didn’t face all these obstacles, he would still draw quite a few whispers if he decided to start dating his assistant. There was nothing triter than the big boss who decided to seduce his secretary. Leila needed this job. It wasn’t like she could quit.
All of these things would open them both to derision and ridicule. A family name he had tried so hard to protect would get mud slung at it.
He couldn’t do that.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Leila said. She lifted her head off his chest and gazed into his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”
He shook his head and started to say, “Nothing,” then thought better of it. He slowly exhaled. “I was thinking about how I’ll have to leave when dawn rolls around and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it,” he answered honestly.
“What do you mean?” She propped up one of the pillows on the headboard and reclined against it. “I would ask you to stay longer, but I figured we both have to get ready for work. And with Mom on her way home—”
“I mean the sneaking around, Lee. I mean . . . how long are we going to do this? Weeks? Months? Years?”
She fixed him with a level gaze. “I don’t know, Ev.”
“So what? You never think about it? You never wonder how long this is going to last?”
“Of course I do! You think I like doing this? You think I like having to wait until the office is cleared out for the day for me to kiss you? You think I like being paranoid that someone is going to figure out the looks we give each other? Do you think I like . . . I like being the . . . the other woman?” she said ruefully then shook her head. “No, Ev, I can assure you that I don’t. But I just try to remember what you told me the first night we were together. You said all we have is the here and now . . . that it’s better to focus on the present.” She reached out and held his hand. She squeezed it. “That’s all I can do. That’s all we can do.”
“I hate it when you turn my words back on me.”
“I’m just telling you the truth. I don’t know what the future holds; neither of us do.” She leaned toward him and lightly kissed his lips. “But just . . . just be with me. This could be our last night. This might have to end tomorrow. But just be with me . . . tonight, please? We’ll figure out tomorrow when it comes, okay?”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He cupped her face and raised his mouth to hers again. The kiss was languid and deep and quickly developed into a lot more. They made love one more time before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning, Evan awoke to the sound of the news broadcast and running water. He slowly lifted his head from his pillow and opened his eyes, only to squint at the rays of sunlight that streamed through the cracks of her bedroom blinds. When the sound of running water ended, he turned to find Leila striding out of the bathroom, toweling herself off. He admired her naked body, which was still covered with a few droplets from her shower. He could remember the feel of her warm skin against his fingertips, the taste of her mouth as she’d cried out his name against his lips in the dark.
Leila paused to wrap the towel around her and sit on the edge of the bed. She had grabbed a bottle of body lotion off of her night table and now absently began to rub some of the alluring scent onto her legs and arms as she watched a weather girl point to storm clouds in the Midwest.
“What time is it?” he asked with a yawn, rubbing his eyes.
“Six-thirty.”
“Six-thirty? Really?” He glanced at her alarm clock. He had planned to get up at 6 a.m.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
Leila turned to him. “You seemed so content. I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus”—she laughed—“you were snoring.”
“I don’t snore.”
She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Of course, you don’t.” He watched as she stood from the bed and walked toward him. “Don’t worry. You still have plenty of time to do whatever you need to do to make it to the office by 8 a.m. You’ll have my bathroom all to yourself. I’ll just put on my makeup and do my hair out here.”
He slowly let his gaze trail over her. “Yeah, well, there were a few things I may have wanted more time to do that you didn’t consider.”
She set her lotion back on the night table. “Oh? Like what?”
Leila yelped with surprise when he suddenly reached up and wrapped his arms around her waist before dragging her on top of him. She landed, sprawled across his torso, and they soon became a tangle of limbs and twisted bedsheets. She started to protest but fell silent when he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and began to stroke her between her thighs. She closed her eyes and twisted her hips to meet his touch. She arched her back so that her breasts molded against his hand.
Evan loved seeing Leila like this—in the throes of sexual delight. He loved to watch her pant and writhe, to feel her muscles clench and her to grow wetter against his fingertips. Eliciting such a response from a beautiful woman that he loved and damn near worshipped made him feel more powerful than winning any multimillion-dollar contract or buying any new sports car. This was a high he wished he could have forever.
“Oh, God! Don’t stop, Evan,” she whispered into one of the pillow cases. “Don’t . . . ever . . . stop!”
He shifted from kissing her breasts to leaving a trail of kisses down the center of her stomach. The skin was still damp from her shower. She smelled like her bath gel—a tantalizing mix of milk and honey.
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t,” he promised.
He then eased her legs wider and
switched his fingers for his mouth and tongue. He licked and sucked her clit and her body went into overdrive. Her breathing became shallower. The whimpers and moans morphed into yells that echoed off the bedroom ceiling. When the orgasm hit her, he felt her thighs tremble and her stomach clench. As the last tremors ebbed, her entire body went slack. She rolled onto her side and he rose from his crouch and stared down at her, wiping his mouth.
She looked tranquil, almost blissful with her arm thrown over her eyes and a smile on her face. She must have felt his gaze on her. She lowered her arm and turned to him, and her smile widened into a grin. She eased herself upright so that they were almost level eye to eye. Leila then reached out and wrapped her hand around him. She began to stroke him.
“Now you,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again.
He knelt between her thighs, gritting his teeth and moaning under her expert touch. He would have come right there in her hand, but he managed, with a great feat of willpower, to wrench her hand way. He fumbled for a condom on the night table and quickly sheathed himself. She spread her legs and braced herself with her back against the headboard. Seconds later, he plunged inside her and she shouted out his name. With each thrust, her grip tightened around his back and so did his grip on the headboard. He moaned and groaned against her lips, loving the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest, of her arms and her legs wrapped around him. There was no better moment than this.
“I love you, Lee,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
Leila suddenly screamed in alarm. That wasn’t quite the reaction a man expected when he told a woman he loved her.