My heels click along the travertine tile, announcing my arrival. Mrs. King looks up from her computer and smiles at me again. “Mr. Hamilton is waiting for you. Go on in.” She gestures toward the door but doesn’t get up to let me in like she did this morning.
“Thank you.” I tuck my clutch under my arm. This morning, Holt’s glass office was on display for anyone walking by to see. This afternoon, the opaque privacy glass doesn’t allow anyone to see into his office. His office has glass that goes from clear to opaque, providing immediate privacy.
I open the door quietly and find him sitting at his desk, shuffling through a stack of papers. When he looks up, I nearly gasp when I find him wearing dark-rimmed glasses.
“What?” he asks, pushing the stack of papers away from him.
I blink. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
He grins and sits back in his chair. “Now you know. You should’ve asked me when we were playing twenty questions.” He tips his head to the side and steeples his fingers.
“What other secrets are you keeping from me?” I tease him and close the office door behind me. I expect him to continue the playful banter, but almost immediately, his face falls flat and he looks odd, almost pensive. “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly wondering if I’ve upset him.
He shakes his head a little and smiles. “Sorry.” He rubs between his eyebrows. “Just got distracted for a minute. You ready to go?” He pulls off his glasses and tosses them on his desk.
“Yes. I have a two o’clock meeting, so we have to be back by then.”
He glances at the large watch on his wrist and stands up, reaching for my hand.
I shake my head, a spike of panic surging through me. “Not in the office, Holt,” I tell him quietly, pulling my hand away from his.
He pulls both of my hands into his, lacing our fingers together, then he pulls me to him, our noses almost touching. “I’ll respect your wishes for now, Saige. But we’re not doing anything wrong. I won’t hold your hand today, but I will tomorrow,” he says certainly.
I try to hide my wince. “Maybe we should just keep this on the down low—”
“Why?” he interrupts me, his face twisted in annoyance.
“I’m new here,” I remind him. “I’m still navigating my way, building relationships, and trying to prove I’m a valuable employee. I don’t want anyone thinking that our spending time together is going to advance my career.”
He smirks at me. “Do you think I’d promote you or give you special attention based upon you sleeping with me?”
His words have me flustered. “That’s not what I said, but I don’t want my coworkers to think that.”
He shrugs, annoyed. “Who cares what they think?”
“I do,” I argue. “I like my job. I like the people I work with. I like the owner of the company I work for.” I look pointedly into his perfect blue eyes. “I just don’t want to screw that up.”
“You won’t.” He sighs, relenting. “But I understand, and I will respect your wishes outside of this office. Inside this office, that’s another story.” He snakes his arm around my waist and presses a light kiss to the side of my neck. I feel my breath catching as chills shoot through me and goose bumps erupt on my skin. His touch has that affect on me.
“Do you see that conference room table?” he breathes into my ear. I nod and look at the smooth wood table behind him. “You’re going to find out what it’s like to be fucked on that table.” I swallow hard and inhale sharply. “And my desk,” he says, turning me gently by my chin to look at his large executive desk. “You’re going to be bent over the edge of that desk with your perfect ass in the air, trying to not scream my name.” His blue eyes darken as he speaks.
“Holt,” my voice hitches, and I have to hold on to his biceps to keep my unstable legs from giving out.
“Wait, I’m not done yet.” He presses a gentle kiss to my lips before he turns and looks out his office wall of windows. “And then I want you naked . . . against that wall of glass, overlooking all of Chicago while I’m inside of you. I want your perfect tits pressed against that cold glass while I fuck you.”
“Jesus,” I mumble under my breath as I envision my naked body pressed against the window overlooking all of downtown Chicago. My knees shake lightly and there’s a gentle throbbing between my legs as I replay what he’s just said he wants to do to me.
“My two favorite things in the world: Chicago and you,” he says tenderly, then snickers.
I can now barely contain the throbbing between my legs, let alone form a coherent thought at this moment. Holt trails a finger from my temple, down my cheek, and over my lips. I close my eyes and drink in his touch.
“Let’s go eat lunch, sweet girl,” he says, pressing another kiss to my lips while I try to catch my breath. “Because I want dessert back here in my office.”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and determine it’s better not to say anything. Sometimes there are no words adequate enough to describe how you’re feeling. This is one of those moments.