“ Your rule
about sleeping with a co-worker doesn't apply when you're out of
state,” Samantha Peters commented, taking a sip of her cranberry
We sat at high
stools in the restaurant's bar area, which overlooked the dining
tables. A wall of glass offered spectacular views of Washington, DC's
famous sites. The sun had just set, the sky ranging in colors from
black to a burnt orange, the Washington Monument glowing brightly.
knows crossing state lines null and voids that rule.” She eyed me
over her glass, one eyebrow raised, daring me to contradict.
“ You're my
executive assistant, not my love-life coach,” I replied.
“ You might be
my boss, but you're my friend first, and I say you need to get laid.”
after hours on our business trip to DC, with work done for the day,
Samantha wanted to tackle my personal life—my sex life, more
specifically. My non-existent sex life.
I gave her a
pointed stare as I stirred my gin and tonic with the little drink
stirrer, ice clinking in the glass. I crossed my legs and the knee
length pencil skirt slid a demure inch up my thigh. “I love how you
bend the rules to suit the situation.”
My heart rate
kicked up a notch, my blood thickened at the very mention of getting
laid. I squeezed my thighs together trying to dull the thrumming ache
that always started in my pussy when my mind shifted to Cole Porter.
The man I secretly dreamed of, longed for in the late, lonely hours
of the night. The man whose voice scraped over my senses like
tumbling rocks. Just one look at his stubble lined jaw had my
sensitive nipples tightening, imagining the rough texture against the
very tips. Whose incredible height made me feel small and feminine,
willing to submit to his every demand. Only Cole would do to assuage
the fires that built by just a glimpse.
Whenever he was
in the same room, for a meeting or quick security update, it was hard
to focus and stay on task. His blue eyes would meet mine briefly
across the room, across a conference table. I'd read something in
them that was just for me, a glimpse at the man behind the
professional facade. A glance that screamed.... more . More than
just colleagues, more than professional associates. It read he wanted
to rip down the cool, corporate shield I wore as crisply as my
business suits and discover the hot blooded woman beneath. Each time
he pierced me with his gaze, my inner muscles tightened, pulsed for
My usual steel
trap mind turned to the brain of a flaky teenager with just one whiff
of his woodsy cologne that circled a conference room, or my office,
entangling me in his thrall without even trying. If
my body succumbed to him in such carnal ways by just a look, just a
hint of his scent, I could only imagine what it would be like when
his lips met mine, his hands stroked over my heated flesh, his mouth
lowered to my center. One slide of his hot tongue on my clit would
bring me to instant climax.
imaginings aside, Cole was always completely professional. Nothing
had occurred that was the least untoward, nothing that would indicate
there was anything more to our business relationship for anyone in
the office to see. No brush of hand, no sexual innuendo, not even an
invitation for drinks. Not a blip on anyone's radar at work to
indicate that either of us wanted something more. Except Samantha.
Somehow she'd seen the signs, picked up on the electrical storm of
attraction that arced between us.
watched the man who could fulfill my every desire across the
restaurant. Cole sat at a table with several other co-workers, having
drinks and dinner after a day-long power-pitch to a potential new
client. Negotiations followed and because the deal had closed
successfully, celebrating was in order. It appeared from the smiling
faces of my employees, they had the last well under way.
“ You've got
to bend the rules sometime,” Samantha