I spot Dave, my favorite receptionist who Reese re-hired. After firing him for being ‘too cheery’, I convinced Reese to give him another chance, which he didn’t fight me on. And since I’ve spent a considerable amount of time in this office over the past eight months, Dave and I have become fast friends. His crooked smile lights up his face as I point toward Reese’s door, silently asking if he’s available. He nods and, like he always does, motions for me to walk right in. Glancing down one last time to make sure I’m covered, I swing open the door and step into his massive office.
He looks completely focused, eyes on his computer screen and pen stuck in his mouth. Lucky pen. With the sound of my entrance, he glances up slowly, his eyes locking onto mine as I close and lock the door behind me. All my nervousness is left in the hallway, and before I can give him the chance to speak, move, or even breathe, I open my coat and drop it to the floor. And that’s not the only thing that drops. His pen falls out of his mouth as his eyes slowly take in my attire.
I’ve chosen a matching red lacy bra and panties, garter, stockings, and my black stilettos I wore the night of my bachelorette party. My bra and panties are insanely see-through, barely even classifying as underwear, and when I say red, I mean fire-engine red. I’m standing in his office, screaming at him in this outfit like a siren. My skin is flushed from the sheer contact of this ensemble. This is has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done and by the way Reese is looking at me right now, it’s totally worth it.
He leans back in his chair, his eyes staying glued to my body as he rakes both hands through his hair. “Jesus fucking Christ.” His eyes meet mine briefly before he drops them to my chest. “I can see right through that.”
“You don’t like it?” I ask playfully, seeing his tongue dart out and lick my favorite slit that runs down his bottom lip. Oh, yes, my tongue will be doing that in just a minute. “I’ve come to thank you for your gift.”
“I’m not gonna last long,” he replies quickly, his hands firmly gripping the arms of his chair. “I’m telling you right now, whatever you’ve planned,” his Adam’s apple rolls in his throat, “I’m not gonna last with you wearing that.”
“That might be the best compliment you’ve ever given me.” My smile busts my face open, and I can practically feel his erection from where I stand. With the heated look he’s giving me right now, I’m positive I won’t last long either. Please, like I ever do with this man’s skill level. I place my hands on my hips and stand up straight, ready to start my fun.
“Now, there are two rules you must follow in order for this to play out in your favor.” I bend down and grab my coat, placing it on the chair after I retrieve my cell phone out of it.
“And what would these rules be?”
I can feel his penetrating stare as I scroll to my playlist. After finding my selection, I stride over to his desk and walk behind it. “Rule number one,” I place my phone down next to his computer, “you’re not allowed to touch me at all during the song.”
“Fuck that,” he states firmly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. At the sheer sight of him behind his massive desk, I’m almost tempted to agree with him and say fuck rule number one. He’s magnificently dressed in his work attire, which never ceases to have the same effect on me as the first day I saw him in it. His hair is fuckably messy, his deep emerald eyes are piercing into mine and continually raking over my body, and his lips are wet and ready for me.
I lean forward, giving him a better view of my cleavage and seeing him notice it instantly. “You touch me, and I leave. And I’ll do it without my coat on.” Yeah, right. I’m praying he doesn’t call my bluff on this one, because there’s no way in Hell I would walk outta here without being covered up.
His eyebrow arches. “How long is this song?”
“Four minutes and thirty three seconds.”
“No fucking way. I’ll give you two minutes and then I’m touching every part of you.” He reaches out and runs his hand up my thigh, playing with the clips on my garter. I tremble at the contact. “What’s the second rule?”