by Parker Grey
Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous. Even worse, she’s the kind of perfect, gorgeous girl who has no idea how beautiful she is, or the effect she has on men.
The effect she has on me, at least. I can barely walk by her desk without feeling the blood heat up in my veins, the near-irresistible desire to grab her like a caveman and carry her back to my bed crawling through me.
I want to do filthy, dirty, unspeakable things to Jenna. I want to own every part of her and show her pleasures she’s never even imagined before.
And I know someone else who wants the exact same thing.
Now we just need to figure out how to go about this.
“If I just called you Jenna you might not know it was me,” I say, my voice coming out a rough rumble even though I mean it lightly.
She blinks.
“I bet I would,” she says. “No one else here really sounds like you. Did you need something?”
You, on your hands and knees, I think. Or my face between your thighs, sweet honey underneath my tongue…
I clear my throat.
“Have you been able to contact Judge Renfro regarding next week’s hearing yet?” I ask, forcing myself to stop thinking about Jenna naked and think about my actual job for once.
Jenna’s eyes flick downward. It’s only for a split second, and then they flick back up so fast it could have been my imagination, but my cock twitches in my pants anyway. It’s taking all my willpower not to pitch a massive tent right now, and she’s making it ten times worse.
“I did,” she says, reaching for a note pad. “She said that the hearing was scheduled for…”
Jenna gives me the short version of her conversation, and I force myself to pay attention to the boring, work-related words coming out of her mouth.
I’d rather pay attention to the way she rests her pen against her lip when she’s thinking, the way her fingers are absent-mindedly playing with the hem of her skirt on her knee.
The effect she has on me is completely insane. It’s unlike anything else I’ve ever felt, this assistant who I’ve shared with Lawson, my best friend, for a few weeks now.
That is, we’ve shared her assisting capabilities. We haven’t shared her in any other capacity… yet.
But we’re going to. I can feel it. Lawson wants sweet, innocent Jenna just as badly as I want her, and assistant or not, there’s only one way this is going to end.
And that’s with Jenna gasping with pleasure, screaming out our names.
“Mr. Chandler?” she says, and I realize I haven’t listened to a word that’s come out of her perfect mouth in minutes. I clear my throat and re-focus my attention.
“Kade,” I correct her without thinking.
Jenna bites her lip for a split second, eyes dancing.
“Only if you call me Jenna,” she says, her voice soft but teasing.
As soon as she says it, a pretty pink blush rises to her cheeks.
Jenna is flirting with me, even in our buttoned-up, very formal office.
I arch one eyebrow at her.
“Are you telling me what to do, Miss McAlister?”
Her blush darkens instantly, and her eyes flick downward again, though not to my cock.
“Of course not,” she says quickly. “Sorry, Mr. — uh, Kade…?”
Sometimes I forget the effect I have on people, that I’m tall and built and according to Lawson, don’t smile nearly enough. I know I make people nervous — especially sexy new assistants.
But I have to admit that she’s pretty like this, flustered and pink. I wonder what she’d look like even more flustered and pinker.
I wonder what she’d look like if I told her what I’m thinking, right now — that I’ve got half a mind to tell her that I need to see her in my office, then shove her skirt over her waist and slide my fingers into her little pink pussy until she comes.
“Perfect,” I purr at her, and I could swear she colors even more.
Just as she does, a door opens across the open-plan office floor, and Jack Leonard emerges, along with someone I recognize as Marshall Gale, the CEO of one of the largest investment firms in the city.
Jack glances around the room, his eyes flicking over me for a moment, but it’s enough to remind me what’s at stake here, and I straighten instantly.
If we’re going to seduce Jenna — and we are — no one can know. Especially not the other partners at the law firm.
“Have that on my desk by noon,” I tell her, straightening my tie out of habit. I barely even remember what I’m asking her to have on my desk at noon, but I’m sure she’ll get it there.
Too bad I won’t be having what I really want — her on my desk.
At least, not yet.
Chapter Four
Jenna
Call me Kade, he said.
That’s all I can think about for the next couple of hours as I prepare the report he asked me for.
Well, that and the tent in his pants. Hard not to look when he was standing, I was sitting, and that monster was right at eye-level.
Because good God, was it big. I may be a virgin, yeah, and I may be fairly inexperienced even for a virgin, but I’ve seen penises before. I’ve even seen big penises before — it’s not like I’ve never seen porn.
But in real life, even with a layer of fabric and several feet of space separating us? I’ve never seen anything like that, the outline clear even through his suit pants.
I shift uncomfortably for hours, trying to ignore the nagging ache in my core, but there’s no way I can sit that offers any relief. Every time I try to focus on something else, my mind’s eye offers it up again, just like that.
I wonder what it would feel like, I think. Maybe when you give him these documents, he’ll shut his office door and bend you over his desk, pull down your panties and—
I clear my throat and shake my head at my computer monitor.
Stop it, I tell myself. You cannot fantasize about your boss. One, he’s your boss. Two, he’s your boss, and that’s completely ridiculous.
I’m sure he’s got a girlfriend already.
There’s no way he’s interested in you — he’s at least ten years older, and for the love of God, you’re just his assistant.
I exhale and start typing again, but the ache doesn’t go away.
I have the documents on his desk by noon, but Kade isn’t even in his office when I go to leave them. I’m half disappointed — despite myself, I’ll take any chance to drown in the blue pools of his eyes, any chance to watch his chiseled jaw or check out the way his biceps strain against his shirt sleeves — and half glad that I can’t make a fool of myself.
I need to go on a date, I think to myself.
I just need to get laid already. Get the big one over with, I’m sure then I’ll think about my incredibly sexy bosses a little less…
“Jenna!” a female voice says behind me as I get back to myself. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so glad someone’s not out at lunch. Got a minute?”
I turn and there’s Blair. She’s perky and blonde, the assistant to another of the law firm’s partners, her blue eyes wide.
“Sure,” I say.
“Larry’s got this big luncheon meeting, and the sandwich delivery guy just dumped all his sandwiches at the reception desk and took off,” she says, jerking one thumb over her shoulder and rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Usually they’ll at least bring it in a little more and carry all the bags and stuff to the kitchen, you know? And I don’t want the lunch to be late so I could really use a hand setting it all up if you don’t mind…”
“No problem!” I say, probably a little too eagerly. I’m new here, after all, and I want to be good at my job. I want to be the employee who goes the extra mile, who tries a little extra hard.
You know, the employee who gets a raise and a promotion.
We grab all the sandwiches from the front desk and take them to the kitchen, where Blair arranges them onto a couple of platters while I fill some large glass pitchers with ice
water.
“Thank you so much,” Blair is saying as we walk down the hall, from the kitchen to the conference room. “This makes it so much easier, plus I feel like it’s really unprofessional when I have to make a bunch of trips from the kitchen to the conference room?”
I frown. I have no idea why that might be unprofessional, but I make a mental note anyway.
“Of course,” I say, just as she’s about to push the door open. “Happy to—"
Blair walks through the door and holds it open with one elbow, both her hands holding sandwich platters.
Just as everyone in the room — several partners, plus their incredibly wealthy clients — looks up, her elbow slips and the door swings right into me and the two pitchers of water I’m carrying.
Everything feels like it’s in slow motion as they slosh right into me, splashing freezing cold water over the front of my white shirt.
I feel like it happens in slow motion, because even before it does, I know exactly what the result will be. I know what happens when you get a white shirt wet.
And in a moment of horror, I remember my getting-ready frenzy that morning: the skirt I don’t like, the shirt that doesn’t quite fit me well.
And the garish, leopard print bra that I happen to be wearing. If it wasn’t already half-visible through my shirt, now it is for sure.
I feel my face turn tomato-red, because everyone in the conference room is currently looking at me.
Including Kade and Lawson. I go redder, if that’s even possible, and I freeze in the doorway, cold water dripping off me and onto the floor.
There’s a moment of silence where no one seems to know what to say. Possibly because I’m telling almost all the partners of Hamilton, Clark, and Leonard, Attorneys at Law, what my undergarment preferences are.
“Oh!” Blair finally says, rushing to set the platters of sandwiches on the sideboard. “Oh, my gosh, let me get those from you, Jenna, go dry yourself off and I’ll call the janitor for a mop…”
Right. Thank God someone is on top of her shit right now, because all I can think is leopard print bra in front of your bosses.
“Thanks,” I manage to say, sounding halfway like a regular person. “I’ll just, uh, go dry off…”
I turn quickly, trying to hide my humiliation and get out of the conference room as fast as I can. Most of the lawyers have already turned back to what they were doing, politely ignoring the drenched assistant in the doorway, but before I can get out of there I see two sets of eyes, still watching me.
Lawson.
Kade.
Even though my bosses look as different as can be, they’ve got a matching look in their eyes, a look I can’t quite identify.
It’s… dark. Serious. Hungry. I feel like I’m pinned to the wall by it, and despite the cold water on my front, I can feel my core heat up for a split second.
Then I rush out of the room and make a beeline for the restroom and paper towels.
Chapter Five
Lawson
Jenna turns, rushing down the hallway in her black pumps. I watch her through the conference room’s glass wall, blatantly staring at the sinful way her ass moves in that skirt, the curl of her strawberry-blonde hair against her neck as she rushes for the bathroom.
Hot pink leopard print.
Interesting.
No, it’s more than interesting. Just like everything else about my assistant, it’s fucking irresistible, the hint that below her sweet, good-girl demeanor there’s something naughtier.
I wouldn’t have pegged Jenna to be the kind of girl who’d wear lingerie like that to the office, but I like that she is.
Maybe she’s naughty in other ways, too.
Near the end of the hallway, she turns right and pushes open the bathroom door, disappearing through it. I glance across the table at Kade, who just barely lifts one eyebrow as he meets my gaze.
He saw the same thing I just did, and now I know he’s thinking the exact same thing.
I wait five minutes, and then I can’t wait anymore. I nod at Helen, the woman talking, and get up from the table, straightening my suit jacket and tie as I do, then walking through the door. Nonchalantly, I head down the hall and into the men’s bathroom, pushing the door open silently and leaning against the wall.
“I didn’t have you pegged as the flashy type,” I say, letting my voice drop down to dangerous levels.
Jenna whirls around, her heels making a soft scraping noise on the shiny tiles of the bathroom.
The men’s bathroom, where she’s standing at the sinks with her shirt off, hot pink bra on full display.
“Lawson! I — uh — Mr. Marshall, what are you doing?” she yelps, instantly hugging her shirt to her chest, along with several handfuls of paper towels.
“Standing in the men’s bathroom,” I say, smirking at her.
The shirt and towels aren’t hiding much. I can still make out the sinfully tempting curves of her body, the up-and-down swell of her chest as she breathes, her cleavage rising with every breath.
I can barely think. My mouth goes dry with desire and all I can think about is pressing my lips to her neck, my hands on her round, firm ass, the tiny gasp that would rise from her lips.
I could back her against the sinks in here, get that ugly bra off, make her moan as I rolled her nipples between my fingers, my leg between hers as I push her thighs apart…
“Men’s?” she echoes, suddenly uncertain, wobbling just a little on her high heels.
I raise one eyebrow.
“Did you miss the urinals?” I ask, pointing into a corner.
She looks over at them, and to be fair, they’re in an odd place — easy to miss if you’re running in in a panic. Her cheeks color brightly the instant she sees them, her mouth opening in a surprised little O.
“I didn’t— I thought this was—” she stammers.
The flush spreads from her cheeks down her neck and Jenna bites her lip, glancing from me to the urinals and back.
“They don’t typically appear in the women’s, or so I’m told,” I tease her.
She smiles, just a little.
“I was in a rush,” she says. “I was more worried about having a suddenly transparent shirt in front of everyone and I picked the wrong door…”
I take a step forward, like she’s got a line hooked into me and she’s pulling me forward. My attraction to this girl is magnetic, irresistible. I glance down at her chest one more time, because I swear I can feel the heat of her body from here.
“I promise not to tell if you don’t,” I say, letting my voice drop to a growl.
“Why would I tell?” she breathes, her eyes flicking up to my face. “I’m the one who fucked up, after all.”
“Some mistakes are good ones,” I tell her, taking another step closer.
My hands are still in my pockets, but being in the same room as Jenna half-naked — even though she’s wearing a bra and has paper towels clutched to her chest — is going straight to my cock in the form of a massive erection.
Once more, her eyes flick downward. I know she sees it, just from the way her breath hitches in her throat.
“I should put my shirt back on and leave,” she whispers. “I’m sorry for—”
The door swings open, and Jenna gasps as Kade walks in.
Just inside the door he stops and looks over at us, his dark eyes glowing from within. I’ve seen that look on his face before, even though it hasn’t made an appearance in a long time.
The last time I saw it, we were in the VIP section of an exclusive club in Midtown, and a girl named Sapphire was straddling both our laps at once, her short skirt already riding up to her waist, thong exposed.
I’m sure Sapphire wasn’t her real name, but we didn’t give ours either. That’s why condoms exist.
“You know this is the men’s, don’t you?” Kade growls, standing just inside the door.
Jenna sighs, still blushing.
“I do now,” she says, shifting her weight i
n her high heels. “Look, I should put my clothes back on and get out—”
Kade flips the lock on the door.
“Closed for cleaning,” he murmurs, his deep voice low.
Chapter Six
Kade
Jenna’s eyes widen even further, a flush creeping up her neck.
Lawson shoots me a look — no, a glare — that could probably cut through steel, but I meet his gaze steadily with an icy cool one of my own.
It’s risky. I know this is risky. If I’ve read this situation wrong, any moment now Jenna could scream, and we’d both be out of jobs by the close of business today.
But I can’t help myself. I believe in taking chances and, more importantly, seizing the moment.
And in this moment, I’m powerless to do anything but lock the door and watch Jenna, the swell in my chest and my pants quickly growing.
She nibbles on her lip for a moment, her wide eyes regarding me. She’s nervous, sure, but she’s not afraid.
“You don’t look like the janitor,” she finally says, a slight smile coming to her lips.
“You did have a spill, if I’m not mistaken,” Lawson points out.
Jenna swallows, but she stands up straighter. The armful of paper towels that she’s got clutched to her chest slips down slightly, revealing the twin swells of her breasts, the top of the ugly magenta bra. She doesn’t bother fixing the towels.
“It was only water,” she points out, tilting her head slightly to one side. “I’m not sure it needs two of the firm’s top lawyers to help clean up.”
Dear God, she’s flirting with us.
Instantly, my cock is even harder, straining so hard against the zipper of my slacks that I’m afraid it’ll burst them open. I don’t look over at Lawson — I can’t take my eyes off our assistant — but I’m certain that he’s having the same problem right now.
A low, quiet growl erupts from deep within my chest, a noise I can’t mask or contain. Luckily I don’t think Jenna notices.
