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“That’s just Jane… my roommate. She, uh, beta-reads for… Uh, that means she reads my manuscript and gives me her feedback before I publish it,” I stammer.

Why am I telling him all these things? Shut up already, Kat! He already knows too much.

“Hmm…” Heath’s eyes refocus on the screen, his forehead wrinkling, even as his lips remain curled up. “You want my feedback?” Before I could respond, he says, “I like it, up until the sex part. I feel like there are…more creative ways to have sex in the office that you haven’t considered.”

Blood rushes to my face, heating up my cheeks and ears. Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled my hair back into a ponytail today. Now there’s no place to hide from Heath’s penetrating gaze.

“Uh… thanks,” I say softly.

I want to shrink into the size of an atom and vanish. Maybe that way Heath will remember this day as the day his assistant simply poofed into thin air, rather than the day his assistant left some smut she’d written about him on his computer.

God, what if, years and years from now, Heath will still remember me as the assistant who left some smut she’d written about him on his computer? What if he whips out this story to tell his ultra-wealthy clients at parties and they all laugh at me as they clink their champagne flutes together?

“If I were the boss in this story…” Heath glances at my flushed face and smirks wickedly. “I’m not saying I am… I’m just making some suggestions. But if I were him, I’d make my assistant give me a blow job under my desk. Or maybe I’d strip her naked and fuck her against the glass wall so anyone looking in the right direction can see her O-face.”

Now it’s not just my face that’s red hot. The tingles between my legs tell me blood is rushing to another part of my body, too.

I wonder if he’s done all those things before—Heath does have a little bit of a reputation, although that was years and years ago, before his marriage and subsequent divorce.

I should probably be outraged that my boss would say such dirty things to me—in his office, no less. But I was the one who stuck my USB stick where it didn’t belong.

And if this were to go public… Considering Heath is the golden child of Wall Street, it’s going to end up on the tabloids, or even that page on the newspaper with all the zany, funny articles.

And although I’m a nobody right now, I don’t want my name associated with that. I’d hate for anyone to Google my name, only to find out about this dumb mistake. I want people to only see my books when they look me up—not that I have any published yet, but I will.

I guess a scandal with my notorious boss could help boost my sales, but I’d rather not have something like that be my claim to fame.

I’ll have to admit I like Heath’s ideas, though. I like them so much wetness is leaking out onto my panties just thinking about him doing all those things to me…

“Thanks for the feedback,” I say before my thoughts get any wilder.

Despite my overwhelming wish to disappear, I decide to face this problem head-on. That seems to be the only way to end this torture. I put my hand on the big, wooden desk between us, palm up. I meet Heath’s gaze. “Can I have my USB stick back, please?”

“Of course.” Heath casually pulls the little device out of his computer.

He’s acting as if he hasn’t deliberately dragged this out, but I haven’t missed the naughty glint in his eyes, or the amused smile playing on his lips. He’s enjoying this.

“Thank you,” I say as he deposits the USB stick on my palm. I ignore the jolt of electricity that I feel when our hands touch for a second. “I’ll get the files ready for the meeting with Mr. Mikhailov.”

Without waiting for a response, I get up from the chair—which really is comfortable, despite the awkward situation—and hurry out of Heath’s office before my arousal leaks through my clothing and leaves a spot on the leather.

As I close the door, I hear Heath say, “I’ll be here if you need more help with your story.”

Heath

Damn.

When she looks like that, it’s almost a crime that Kat is writing about sex, when she’d make a killing as a porn star. That’s the kind of body—and face—that belongs in front of a camera; not behind a keyboard.

Her full ass wiggles deliciously in the tight casing of her pencil skirt, her gait exaggerated by the heels she’s wearing.

I’d love to get my hands on those swaying hips and yank her back onto my hard cock. I’d pull her blonde ponytail so she’d have to arch her spine. I can almost see her creamy ass cheeks jiggling as they bounce off my thighs to the rhythm of my thrusts.


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