by Eve Langlais
Morgan hadn’t been wrong. His business partner had been the one to suggest the slender blonde fill in for Kathryn. Miss Wood was competent enough, easy on the eye, but there was something a little extra, something intriguing about the woman whose body didn’t fidget nervously beneath his stare.
Yeah, he had to hand it to Morgan—his friend could spot a woman ripe for a little training from a mile away. The chance to spend time subtly observing her, testing her, was one he hadn’t been able to resist. He’d been without a woman too long. Procuring just the right partner had proven a little more complicated than he’d imagined. Who would have guessed that finding an unruly submissive would prove such a challenge?
His glance raked her from head to foot quickly and with discretion, because he wasn’t ready to betray his interest. Straight California-blonde hair was pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head, making her look like a high school girl playing dress-up for the prom. Cute and neat, professionally groomed, still he would have preferred to see her hair fall to the middle of her shoulders or in a sexy ponytail—a handy rope he could use like reins as he rode her from behind. He pushed aside that thought because he knew it might be some time, perhaps never, before he earned that privilege.
As he assessed her appearance for more hints of an ability to pay attention to the details, he admired the way her grey pencil skirt kept her knees pushed demurely together. The crisply pressed, white sleeveless blouse was barely creased, her nylons a pleasing skin tone, her shoes a demure dark pump. Everything in its place—except for the lavender band sliding down her arm. His gaze snagged there for a moment.
“Was there something you needed, Mr. Caldwell?” she asked in her breathy little voice, which had him imagining her whispering just like that in his ear when he shafted deep. His cock swelled, and he eased apart his legs beneath his desk, smoothed his expression into a cool mask, and met her wide blue gaze.
A glint of something sparkled there for just a moment. Long enough to warn him that not all was what it seemed with the delightful Miss Wood. Because he didn’t think well when he was aroused and worse when he was sitting, he pushed off his chair and began to pace. “Have you arranged Cafferty’s showing?”
“For four PM, sir. Rance Cafferty said the client was in town and would accompany him this time to take a look at the office space.”
“Good, good.” He stepped around his desk to pace the length of his office to the door and back. “We’ll want his approval before we proceed with offering the rest of the spaces. His client has first priority.” He turned his gaze when he passed close.
She kept her head bent toward her notepad, white teeth sinking softly into the center of her bottom lip.
He strode closer on the second circuit and stopped beside her.
She glanced up, her baby blues skimming up his abdomen to his chest before reaching his face. Pink blossomed again in the center of her cheeks.
“Did you set the meeting with the plaza crew?” he murmured, enjoying watching her from above, envisioning more intimate moments when her face would be level with his hips. “We’re making changes in our suppliers and need to make sure it doesn’t affect our delivery date.”
She blinked once then dropped her gaze and turned her notepad over. She trailed a finger down the copy of the schedule she’d printed to have on hand, just as he insisted Kathryn always do. “The meeting’s set for Thursday at five. Morgan said he’d have the site foreman and the lead electrician there.”
She called his partner “Morgan”, but reserved “Mr. Caldwell” for him. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. His brain looped on the thought. Then his gaze fell again to the purple strap, and because he was becoming impatient with his lapses, he slid a finger up her arm and tucked the silky ribbon back inside her blouse.
Raelie froze as his finger trailed upward. Then she quivered when he slipped the strap beneath her clothing. He had to have felt it too, but he turned on his heel and resumed pacing, firing off notes which she jotted down, only half her mind employed while the other was giddy with delight.
He’d touched her. Corrected a mistake. And he’d done it without thinking too much about it, apparently, because he’d finished speaking and was giving her a steady stare that indicated she’d missed his signal to leave.
“I’ll just…um, go,” she said, rising and smoothing a hand down the side of her skirt to make sure it hadn’t ridden up.
She hurried out his office, wondering what had caused one corner of his mouth to curl. Her distraction? Had her eyes crossed dreamily as they tended to do when she faded into a daydream? Had he caught her staring overlong? Still, she thought everything had gone very well indeed. Her plan to seduce her sexy, formidable boss was well underway.
He’d touched her.
Chapter Two
Over the next few days, Raelie stepped up her campaign to force him into action.
On Tuesday morning, she dressed in another shirtwaist blouse. One that fit tightly over her breasts. Before she entered Bryce’s office to deliver his mail, she turned the top button snuggled between her breasts sideways. She hoped his gaze would be helplessly caught, waiting for her to exhale deeply and let the button slip. Not that she planned to let that happen. Power lay in the anticipation.
She entered without knocking, and this time, stifled the urge to give him a flippant greeting to get his attention. If obvious didn’t work with the man, maybe a tease would. As she bent over his desk to drop the envelopes and magazines into his inbox, she watched him from beneath her eyelashes.
His gaze swept her, lingering for a moment on the button between her breasts. Heat banked in his eyes, and his nostrils flared before he turned to the items she’d delivered.
She wasn’t fooled. He only pretended to ignore her.
Assured he was invested in the game as well, she gave him a more direct stare. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” she said, lingering over the last word.
His head jerked, canting slightly as his gaze narrowed. “I think that’s enough, Miss Wood,” he murmured.
Chastised, but far from defeated, she walked away with a smile on her face. He might be fighting his attraction, but she knew she’d captured his notice.
Back at her desk, she closed her eyes, reveling in the tingling that tightened her breasts into aching little points. Tiny golden rings adorned the tips and mashed against the cups of her bra, inciting her nipples into an even greater arousal. She waited for a moment when no one was around then massaged her breasts through her clothing until the tightness eased.
On Wednesday, she carried in the lunch he’d ordered, a Reuben and a small salad, sliding it beside him as he talked on the telephone. She reached for the napkin wrapped around the utensils, unfurled it and shook it out with a snap before laying it across his lap, her fingers brushing over him.
This time, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. His voice trailed away mid-sentence, his breath caught because she’d managed to fleetingly graze his cock. His dark, thick eyebrows shot upward, touching that disobedient lock of inky hair she wanted so badly to comb back into place.
“I’ll be back later to clear that away, sir. Enjoy.” She walked out, not rolling her hips in a lewd way, but with her shoulders straight, her step light. His cock had stirred against his thigh as she brushed it. She’d accomplished what she’d come for.
Shortly after, she left for the ladies room carrying her purse snug beneath her arm. With her little fingertip vibrator, she used the memory of that fleeting touch to soar. If her cheeks were flushed when she returned, she was also bonelessly relaxed. She didn’t give a damn whether anyone with an expert eye guessed what she’d just done.
When Thursday rolled around, Raelie stayed past five o’clock to attend the meeting with the crew from the plaza worksite. She remained in the background, one leg crossed over the other. This time, she wore a looser skirt because she had special plans for after everyone had left.
Her foot ki
cked slowly up and down as she doodled, her skin warming just thinking about the naughty thing she planned to do. He’d probably never know. However, just the possibility of being caught was enough of a turn-on all by itself. The motion of her foot quickened, squeezing her thighs together, and by default, tightening her already throbbing pussy.
Lord, she wished she’d taken the edge off with her little vibrator before coming to the meeting. She glanced at her notes and realized she’s substituted “bend over” for “Windover”—the name of the plaza Bryce and Morgan’s company was building. She hastily scratched through it then guiltily looked up.
Morgan’s gaze narrowed on her, suspicion glinting in his green eyes.
She wrinkled her nose. Bryce’s partner, Morgan, was a flirt. He’d romanced every single woman who wasn’t dog-ugly in the building, but she’d been the lone bastion, holding out for Bryce.
However, her resistance to his charm appeared to have proven an irresistible challenge for Morgan Markham. Every day, the man sat his fine ass on the edge of her desk, trying to woo her, coaxing smiles and mock scowls, but so far not a single promise to go to dinner or the supply closet.
She had no doubt Morgan knew his way around women. He had tons of experience, and he knew how to extricate himself from sticky situations. His glib tongue could let a girl down and still make her feel like a desirable, attractive queen among women. She’d seen him do it more than once.
No, she didn’t want Morgan. Well, maybe once—and only if he was no longer Bryce’s partner—because she wouldn’t take the risk of Bryce being put off by promiscuity in his woman. Morgan wasn’t the dominant male she needed in her life. He never made her feel small and vulnerable or eager to please. He never made her wet with just the sting of his hot stare.
Despite Morgan’s best lines and flattery, she’d saved herself for Bryce, and he still didn’t have a clue, which didn’t dim her enjoyment of her crush. But she was making progress.
Even now, as she dangled one foot atop the other in the far corner of the room, removed from the discussion, she had his attention.
His gaze strayed to the glimpse of thigh the tightening of her skirt revealed with each slow swing.
She’d worn a beige skirt, nude hose and seashell pink shoes today, secretly mirroring the colors of her hair, her skin, her nipples. She’d felt sexy, nearly naked, when she’d dressed that morning, knowing she was exposing her personal, intimate colors to the man, and that he’d never know it.
The overlarge pearls nestled against her throat weren’t real, but they warmed to her skin. With a lazy finger, she lifted them and imagined Bryce tucking them one at a time into her ass while she whimpered.
Her chest rose around a deep breath and she raised her glance to find his gaze on her necklace before it darted upward to lock with hers. The moment stretched exquisitely long—a bit of subtle foreplay that enhanced her fantasy, fed her lust and her anticipation for the naughty thing she meant to do the moment she was alone.
* * *
Bryce hit the function key on his keyboard that opened a dozen different views from the security cameras staged around the office, looking for her, Morgan a silent witness at his shoulder.
Miss Raelie Wood wasn’t at her desk. He wished he could resist her powerful allure because it wasn’t like he didn’t have work to wrap up or that he couldn’t find a woman he didn’t have to stalk. However, Raelie filled his thoughts to distraction.
Bryce recalled how her eyes had slid shut in ecstasy while she’d massaged her breasts Tuesday morning after he’d watched her bend over his desk. He’d been unable to look away, hoping that damned little button would slip out of its hole and offer him a glimpse of her full, firm breasts.
Yesterday during lunch, he’d gone rock hard the moment her fingers had brushed his cock. He’d sat in an agony of suspense wondering if she’d done it on purpose or by accident. In the end, the answer to that question hadn’t really mattered. He still hadn’t decided whether she was the one, which meant he couldn’t make a move on her. So he’d locked his outer office door and took care of the erection in his private bathroom before he’d been able to continue working.
This afternoon, watching her play with that damned string of large white pearls while one sleek thigh scissored atop the other had been sheer torture. He’d rushed through the meeting agenda to push the men out of the office before he betrayed the uncomfortable extent of his distraction.
Raelie was becoming an obsession. Every pout of her lips, even the way she gazed up at him, wide-eyed and expectant, had driven him slowly into blue-ball hell. He was quickly realizing that the timetable he’d worked out in his mind for a careful seduction, once Kathryn returned, didn’t take into consideration his constant state of arousal or the blonde woman’s tenacity.
For the sake of his business and his sanity, he either had to fire her or step up the schedule.
“There,” Morgan said, leaning over his shoulder and pointing toward the entrance to the copier room.
She stood in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, an action made suspicious by the furtive way she looked up and down the hallway. Was she planning to steal supplies from the cabinet?
He set his cursor over the view into the room, watching her enter and quietly lock the door behind her.
“Is our little Raelie a thief?” Morgan said, laughter in his voice.
“I don’t think so,” Bryce said, his body tightening with irritation.
Morgan might be his partner in business and one of his wingmen when he cruised the clubs, but this time, Bryce felt oddly possessive toward this particular woman. She had to be his first. He wished like hell he hadn’t been tempted to mention the fact to Morgan. Now, Morgan felt it was his duty to help Bryce make the hook-up.
She walked toward the copier and slipped her feet out of the pretty pink pumps that had teased him all through the meeting with the crew. Then she reached for the hem of her skirt and lifted it on one side. Her free hand disappeared beneath it and a wispy bit of lace drifted down her long, silky legs toward the floor.
When the hell had she removed her pantyhose?
“Do you think she has a clue we have a camera in there?” Morgan murmured.
“Obviously not,” Bruce clipped, annoyed that Morgan was enjoying his tension.
Morgan had been the one to tempt him with the security cams the day Raelie occupied Kathryn’s desk. Ever since, Bryce had been obsessed, tapping keys to find her a dozen times a day, watching for a glimpse into her thoughts, looking for a hint of how to entice her to play.
However, he quickly discovered he was the one caught. Just watching the swell of her breasts as she breathed turned him on. Temptation was making him the worst sort of perv, not that Morgan seemed to have the same scruples as he leaned closer to the screen.
Raelie took a small step stool and placed it next to the copier then opened the cover and turned. Pulling up her skirt in back to expose her bottom, she sat on the glass.
“Holy shit!” Morgan breathed.
Bryce wanted to give him a shove, but couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen.
Raelie’s skirt pooled around her hips, cutting off their view of her lush ass. Holding up her skirt in front with one hand, she reached between her legs and hit the start button. Light flashed, rolling beneath her. Paper spat out the side.
She leaned over, glancing at the sheet resting on the hopper. Her nose wrinkled, and then both her hands disappeared between her legs. She wiggled a bit and bent to mash the button again.
Morgan smacked his shoulder. “Look in the queue, dumbass.”
“What?” he said, shaking his head, unwilling to look away from the young woman who smiled impishly as she took pictures of her intimate parts.
Morgan snorted. “It’s a new machine. Didn’t you pay attention to the demonstration?”
“Of course not,” Bryce said nastily, his gaze still glued to the monitor. “It’s what I have a secretary for.”
�
�You’ll be glad I was listening.” Morgan shoved Bryce’s chair aside and commandeered the keyboard. He opened a file, and then clicked on an icon for a document.
A picture filled the screen—Raelie’s pretty, shell-pink pussy bracketed by pale buttocks, her lovely, orchid-shaped inner lips spread to display the opening of her vagina, which was deep and dark…beckoning.
“She’s a real blonde,” Morgan murmured.
Bryce clamped his jaw closed, the rush of blood toward his cock robbing him momentarily of the ability to speak.
“Well, will you lookie there,” Morgan said, touching the screen twice, pointing to the glints of gold piercing her inner lips. Morgan turned to Bryce and waggled his eyebrows. “Think she knows we can access what’s printing?”
“Of course not,” Bryce said, scowling at his grinning friend. “She’d be mortified.” Bryce hesitated a moment, then ground out, “Print it. Print every one of them. Then delete the entire file. But use another computer.”
While Morgan hurried out of his office, Bryce switched back to the video feed in the copier room.
Raelie hopped off the glass and smoothed her skirts down her sides. She gathered the copies from the hopper then bent over to grab her panties from the floor. She used them to wipe the copier glass and balled them up inside her fist. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to the door and unlocked it.
Morgan sped back into his office, papers clutched in one hand, which he slammed against Bryce’s chest. “Done,” he said, with a sly look. “What are you gonna do with them?”
“Morgan, have a seat there,” Bryce said, pointing toward the sofa to the side.
Morgan raised a brow. “Thought you might be worried about embarrassing her.”
Bryce snorted, anger building in his gut. “Not anymore. She played us, buddy. When she bent for her panties, she pointed her sweet little cunt right at the camera.”
Morgan’s grin reflected delight, which annoyed the hell out of Bryce.
Bryce tightened his tie and headed out of the office to find the not-so-innocent Miss Raelie Wood and let her know there were consequences for misappropriating office property.