by Mia Faye
“Well, I think you made quite the impression,” Cam finally said.
I stared at him, my heart still pounding from the horror of what had just happened, and the mirth in his voice made me smile a little.
“I can’t believe I almost killed your ex,” I said.
Cam shrugged. “She’ll be fine; don’t worry.”
Chapter 18
Cameron
The biggest thing to come out of my week of fake marriage was the adjustment I had to make at work. It wasn’t as simple as I had imagined it was going to be, inviting Yvette to my home. Obviously. But the challenge I had completely overlooked was just how complicated things would get at work.
I realized, as soon as I had to go back to the office, that I had no idea how to act around her. I had never really known how to act around her, to be honest, but this was a different ball game entirely. Now that I had been that intimate with her, it was nearly impossible to go back to treating her like just another employee. But then Yvette had never been just an employee.
The awkwardness started right outside the building. Yvette had insisted on going home to change and get ready for work, but I knew she didn’t want us to be seen walking in to work together. Already, the secretaries were whispering about us, and I understood her not wanting the prevailing story about her to revolve around an affair with me.
I was rummaging in my briefcase for my keycard when she showed up. When I became aware of her, rather, because her scent hit me before I looked up, and I knew right away, it was her.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I couldn’t do anything about the quickening of my pulse, and the general feeling of weightlessness that stole over me.
She looked stunning. Weeks of watching her at work, and never had she looked more delectable. She was in a sharp suit; cream blouse and high-waisted black pants, along with an expensive-looking pair of high-heels.
I had no idea what to say to her. My mind was awash with images from our married week, and all I wanted to do was remind her of some of my favorite moments. Like the time we set out to clean the house and ended up getting drenched with cleaning water and creating a game to test who could skid across the living room without falling down. Or that very memorable night when neither of us could sleep, so we stayed up all night talking. And of course, the time she almost killed my ex-girlfriend.
I was trying my best not to remember any of the sexual stuff, because I didn’t think I would make it through the day if I did. Like the first day after she moved in, and because she forgot to bring her favorite sleeping gown, she spent the evening in an oversized T-shirt of mine, and the following morning naked. I was definitely not thinking about that. Or the time I was teaching her to use my shower, and I ended up eating her out right there in the bathroom.
I shook my head hard and readjusted my pants, the bulge already beginning to grow. This was going to be a difficult day, I realized.
It helped slightly that she seemed just as awkward as I was. That her cheeks flushed every time we were in each other’s presence. And that she seemed as incapable of stringing together two words to form a sentence as I was.
And so we stood there, two passing ships, staring at each other, each in a world of our own until it got openly uncomfortable for us both, and we both reached for the door.
We bumped into each other again at the coffee machine. The kitchen was the most communal of all the office spaces and where the presence of other people meant we couldn’t dedicate long minutes to openly lusting after each other.
“Coffee?” I asked conversationally, lifting the pot over to her.
I noticed she had unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse. You could just make out a bright white bra underneath. And the creamy skin around her throat and chest area.
“Sure, thank you,” she said, offering up her cup.
“I hope you like black coffee,” I said. “I think we’re out of milk.”
“Yeah, that’s okay.”
I poured the coffee out. From the corner of my eye, I watched as the two ladies who were with us in the kitchen finished their tea and walked out together, chatting in low voices.
Alone. Just the two of us.
“You look gorgeous,” I said to Yvette, my voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you,” she said.
“It’s taking everything in my power not to plant you on this counter and kiss you until you get dizzy.”
Yvette blushed, as she always did, but her gaze was steady. Her eyes were locked on mine, challenging me, daring me.
“Shame,” she said. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Were you now?”
“Oh, I was. I’ve mapped it all out. I’d walk in here, and you’d see me and lose all sense. You’d clear the contents of this counter with a sweep of your hand like they do in the movies. And then you’d pick me up and drop me here, and I would spread my legs and pull you in, and You would kiss me. All we would have would be the stolen moments until the next person walks in, so the thrill would make it exciting and hurried and frenzied. And just before someone walks in, you’d pull me off the counter and wink at me, and we would go back to talking about something innocuous like the weather.”
I nodded, impressed, and aroused and tempted beyond belief.“There’s just one problem with that plan,” I said.
“What?”
“You’re assuming I would have the presence of mind to stop just because someone walks in. I don’t know that I would, to be honest.”
The sound of footsteps came, sudden and close, and Yvette and I took hurried steps away from each other. Our eyes remained locked, however.
“Lovely work with the digitized books, by the way,” I said, reaching for the first topic that sprang to mind.
“Oh, thank you. It was quite the task, but I’m happy with how it all came together.”
“Which reminds me. Design sent over a few mock-up covers for some of the books. You should pass by my office after lunch, so I can show them to you.”
“Sure. I will.”
She nodded stiffly, then turned and walked away. Without adding sugar to her coffee. I doubted she would even realize she was carrying a cup until she got to her desk.
I watched her walk away, unable to resist the urge to follow her with my eyes. Naturally, they landed on her buttocks, firm and round, with a pronounced jiggle to them as she sashayed away.
I heard a low whistle from close by, and I whipped my head around to find a young man with a thick beard staring right where my own eyes had been.
“That’s a tasty morsel right there,” he said, shaking his head to illustrate his point. I didn’t recognize him, but the easy confidence attitude screamed sales.
“Right,” I said. My voice was way calmer than I felt.
“She’s new, right?” he asked me, still staring at the spot where Yvette’s ass had been.
“Not so new. Been here over a month.”
“Oh, she can get all of it and then some. I would not mindbending her over an HR manual and showing her the fraternization policy.”He chuckled at his own joke, going so far as to lift his hand, demanding a high five.
I stared at the outstretched palm, the blood pounding in my ears, wondering what would happen if I responded by punching him right in his stupid face.
But I simply smiled and nodded.“She is something, that’s for sure,” I said, picking up my own cup and walking away. It took a minute, but the surge of adrenaline gradually wore down, leaving the lingering question of why I had felt so protective of her in the first place.
Our next meeting was mandated. After updating Meredith on the sales figures for the previous month and projections for the next, she wondered aloud when the digital copies would be available in time for the next editorial meeting.
“I’ll need a timeline for them,” she said. “Everything is moving so fast; we need to be ready in the next few weeks.”
“I’ll find out,” I said.
&nb
sp; “Have you had a chance to look at her work?” Meredith asked me.
“Yvette’s?”
“Of course, Cam. Who else were we talking about?”
“I’ve seen one book, I think. She did an excellent job, although I feel like she would thrive with a little more artistic help.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s something I’ve heard her talk about. There’s no point in digitizing out classic publications if we have no intention of illustrating it as well.”
“Ah. Different mediums and everything.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I might need to sit down with her again. I’ve just had so much on my plate lately…”
“Oh,” I said, suddenly guilty. “How’s Wyatt doing?”
“Worse, to be honest.”
“Well, I can handle Yvette. I’ll go speak with her, see where she’s at, maybe pick her brain about working with a designer.”
“Would you? That would be immensely helpful.”
“Of course, Meredith.”
“You’re doing a great job, by the way. As it is, you’re a shoo-in for the appointment.”
Her words reminded me of Vicki and what she had said to me at dinner a few nights ago. The promotion meant more responsibility. More time here, and potentially less with Emma. But I couldn’t worry about that; I would cross that bridge when I got to it.
I left her office and made a beeline for Yvette’s. I quickened my step, remembering her cleavage, and the way she leaned in as she described her fantasy of me taking her on the kitchen counter.
I gave a little knock, waited a few seconds then walked in. Yvette was on the phone. She looked up when I walked in, and she smiled with such joy I couldn’t help grinning myself. She held up a finger, then pointed to the seat in front of her desk. I shook my head.
I walked around to her side of the desk and stood behind her, my hands going to her shoulders. She felt stiff, knotted. I started to massage her shoulders, being met with an initial shake of her head but proceeding regardless. Slowly, gradually, I felt the stiffness leave her body, and her shoulders slumped.
“That’s right,” she said into the phone. “I think we can make Monday work, Mr. Cavill.”
I watched as her hand tightened around the pen she was holding. And as her head lolled backward, falling onto my torso. If she wasn’t on the phone, I knew she would have let out a sigh.
I took that as an invitation and sent my hands further south. I worked my way from her shoulders down to her back, then all the way up and over into the opening in front of her blouse. I reached in and squeezed my hands into her bra, cupping both breasts.
“No, no. It’s not a problem at all, Mr. Cavill. We want to bring your book to a modern audience, that’s all. Share your brilliance with a younger generation. It will be good for your new book, too.”
I pulled my hands out and set about undoing the rest of the buttons on her blouse. Then I reached back and found the taut clasp of her bra and flicked it open, causing her breasts to spill out. I reached forward once more and cupped them, this time letting them rest in my palms, my fingers brushing past her nipples and drawing a reluctant gasp from her.
“Great. I look forward to the meeting. Right. Of course, sir. Monday it is.”
She dropped the phone back onto its cradle so hard it made a clanging sound. She stood up suddenly, whipping around so fast she almost sent me falling backward.
“You can’t do that!” she said, her expression wild. “Not while I’m working!”
But I wasn’t fooled. I knew how Yvette looked when she was aroused, and she was checking off all the boxes right now.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just thinking about that plan you mentioned, back in the kitchen, and I was wondering if this desk would be a good substitute for that counter.”
We reached for each other simultaneously. I lunged, and she fell into my arms. My hands found the seat of her pants and lifted. Her legs went around me, and I carried her back, planting her firmly on the desk behind her. I reached around and gave her desk a sweep, just like she had said, sending files and folders and a phone flying to the floor. Then I reached down and found her lips.
She was definitely angry. I could tell from the way she kissed me. Angry and horny, and impatient. We kissed like long-lost lovers because that’s what it felt like we were. Like it had been ages since she was in my arms since my lips were dancing on hers and my tongue prying her lips open to taste the sweetness beyond.
There was an abandoned, and a passion there that I knew was dangerous, but I couldn’t pull away if I wanted to. This felt right, felt like home. I was crazy about the woman, I realized. I wanted nothing more than to do this to her, with her, and that would be enough for me.
She mumbled something into my mouth, the words drowning in the urgent rhythm of our lips.
“Hmm?” I mumbled, my eyes flickering open.
“Door. Did you close it?”
“Who cares?” I asked, and I swooped back down and kissed her once more.
I didn’t; I knew that much. They could all watch, for all I cared. And after a few moments, Yvette threw away her caution, too. She fumbled around with the front of my shirt, gave up, and went to undo the buttons on my pants instead. They came away shockingly fast, considering she had to work against the rigid protrusion that was my throbbing cock.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Please.”
Those words were like fuel to an already wild inferno. I pulled away from her, stepping back slightly. My fingers were trembling as I worked her pants free, and then as I yanked her panties down. I didn’t have the patience to pull them all the way off, so I let them fall to her ankles and pool around them. And then I was back between her legs, finding her warm moistness with ease and plunging in with a sure stroke.
Her fingers dug into my back as I buried myself in her. Her mouth was open at my ear, and she muttered incoherent nonsense that I thought included my name.
I grabbed her back, pulling her right to the edge of the desk to gain purchase, then I started to pound. I had no intention of slowing down. We were not making love, not today. My hips rocked back and forth, slamming repeatedly into her, our bodies slick with sweat and our voices coming together in muted gasps and groans.
My thrusting was brutal, frenzied, manic. I plunged repeatedly into her, plundering her very depths, then pulling out and doing it over again. It was unrelenting and raw, and the single most intense sex I had ever had.
Her body started to quake. From her legs, I felt the jerking, involuntary twitching and bobbing. Then her torso stiffened, and she gripped me harder than before, her nails now biting into the skin on my back.
“Oh my God, I’m coming,” she whispered through gritted teeth.
I was, too. I wanted to say it back, but the effort would have been too much for me. I pulled her all the way off the desk and carried her to the nearest wall. The pants around her leg almost tripped us both, but we made it there.
I lifted her legs even higher so that they rested on the insides of my elbows. Then, staring deep into her eyes, I thrust into her, once, twice, and by the third stroke, I was well over the edge. I kept thrusting still, feeling her body fall apart and enjoying every second of it. Her cries were no longer so muffled, and the slapping sounds from our bodies were fairly audible.
Slowly, I came to a stop, sliding in and out of her with less urgency and power until my own toes uncurled, and the orgasm drained my legs of all their strength.
I let go, then, setting her gently on her feet and collapsing almost immediately onto a chair.
It happened so fast. Too fast for either of us to react. Yvette was reaching down to pull her pants up. I was catching my breath, my chest heaving uncontrollably.
A sharp knock, and then the door swung open. Meredith poked her head into the room, and her mouth fell open at the scene in front of her.
Chapter 19
Yvette
&nbs
p; It was the single most embarrassing moment of my whole entire life.
The worst part was how long it seemed to take. From the moment the door opened, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Meredith’s head, peeking in from the slot in the door; her eyes, sweeping the room, taking in Cam first, collapsed half-naked on my chair, and then swinging around to me, fumbling with the bunched-up mess that was my pants.
I had never been so mortified, and so completely paralyzed. I just stood there, the realization that we had been caught washing over me, rooting me to the spot and robbing me of my ability to think or speak.
Cam didn’t seem to be doing any better. He just stared at Meredith, too stunned to even attempt to get dressed.
I don’t know what I expected Meredith to do. I could think up a million scenarios, but the one that actually played out wouldn’t have been one of them.
She walked quickly into the room and closed the door behind her. “Cam,” she said, looking at him. “There was something else I needed from you; I forgot to tell you during our briefing back in my office. Please come see me as soon as you get a chance?”
Cam nodded, clearly unable to speak too.
“Miss Matthews? I would like to speak to you as well, ideally as soon as possible. Would you please join me in my office in, say, ten minutes? That should be enough time for you to get cleaned up?”
She spoke so casually; it was almost as if she was discussing the weather. And not like there were two naked employees in front of her. She didn’t seem mad, either, or offended. Or any of the things I expected her to be. Just calm and rational and slightly terrifying because of it.
“Would that be okay?” she prompted once more, and I nodded.
“Excellent.”
She turned to leave.“We really should put some locks on these,” she commented dryly as she opened the door. Then she was gone.