I had hoped to spring the lingerie on him in a slightly different way, but this works too as his eyes immediately drop to the sea-foam green lace demi bra and matching silk panties I’m wearing.
“Jesus, Moira… are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Zach mutters as he slumps backward in his chair, his eyes roaming all over me. “Get me to keel over so you can collect on the life insurance?”
I snort as I let the coat slip off my shoulders to the ground and round his desk. The muscles of his thighs are pressed tight against the dark gray of his wool dress slacks, and they bunch as he twists his hips to swivel his chair so that he’s facing me as I come around.
Never hesitating in my step, putting extra swing in my hips, I catwalk my way right up to him and climb onto his lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I lean in and give him a deep kiss. He responds with a groan and his hands to my hips so he can press me down onto his crotch. My husband lengthens… swells… becomes so hard against me—pressed right into my core.
I pull my lips from his, sit up a bit straighter, and drop my hands to his lap so I can work at his belt. “Want you to fuck me, baby,” I tell him in a husky voice.
“God, I wish all my work days were like this,” Zach says in a growl as his hands come to my breasts. The tips of his fingers scrape at the lace, and he pulls the cups down so he can latch his mouth onto a nipple.
And oh damn… that feels good.
My hips flex involuntarily to rub against him, and my hands go still against his belt as Zach overwhelms me with his teeth and tongue. He nips at me, then licks, and when he starts to pull away, my hands automatically clutch at him to hold him tight to my chest.
“You are the sexiest, hottest woman on the planet,” Zach murmurs as he turns to rub his cheek over my sternum. “How’d I get so lucky?”
How did I get so lucky?
Tears actually sting at my eyes for just a moment when I consider just how goddamned blessed I really am to have this man, then they’re dispelled when my mind fizzles into blissful nirvana as Zach’s fingers drop to the edge of my panties.
“We’re going to have to make this fast, and we’re going to have to be quiet,” he warns me.
As if I needed him to tell me that. I know full well how dangerous it is to do this in Zach’s office, but just the tiniest thought of getting caught makes it all the more exciting.
“Then let’s get to it, Mr. Easton,” I urge him as I bat his hands away so I can work at his belt again.
Just as I clear the leather from the buckle, the phone on Zach’s desk chimes loudly, goes silent for a moment, and then Lila’s voice comes over the speaker. My hands freeze, and we both tense as she says, “I am so sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Cannon called in and they’ve convened an emergency board meeting. He needs you to get to Conference Room Two, Mr. Easton.”
I can tell by Lila’s nervous tone that she’s a little shaken. Zach’s head drops back on his chair, and he sighs as I start to quietly buckle up his belt.
“Did he say what the problem was?” Zach asks in a tired voice as his eyes slide down to watch what I’m doing. He brings his hand over, lays it on top of mine, and gives me an apologetic squeeze. I can feel his hard-on start to deflate between us.
“Yes. He said that legal believes Mr. Lascola is in breach of his non-compete agreement, and they want to file an emergency injunction right now. It requires board vote, and they would like to get the documents filed and served before close of business today.”
“Christ,” Zach mutters as I scramble off his lap and hurry over to my purse to grab my dress. His eyes are pained and his shoulders slumped as he looks at me longingly while I slip it over my head. I give him a reassuring smile.
“Thanks, Lila,” Zach says as his hand comes out to hover over the phone. “Tell Randall I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, and I know by the use of her professional address that this is serious business.
Zach’s finger presses down, and he disconnects. Straightening his tie, Zach apologetically looks at me. “I’m sorry, honey.”
I give him an admonishing look as I turn to help him roll down his shirtsleeves. He plucks his cuff links off the desk and hands them to me. I revel in this quiet intimacy, where I help my husband get all professional looking again. When I glance up at him, his eyes are warm but frustrated.
“It meant a lot you came over to see me,” he says quietly as I insert the last cuff link and twist the bar to secure it.
“Don’t worry,” I say with a chuckle. “We’ll try this again sometime.”
“How about we pick this back up tonight when I get home from work?” he suggests as my hands come to his shoulders.
I rise up on my tiptoes, and he bends down. Our kiss is light, short, and full of regret.