by Parker Grey
“Jenna,” I start, my voice still gruff. “We’re not here to—"
Lawson puts out his hand, cutting me off, and I let him, swallowing the rest of my sentence: we’re not here to dry you off, we’re here to get you wet.
He’s right. He’s always been the smooth, charming one between the two of us.
“We take our employees’ issues very seriously,” he says, voice low and dark. “And not only did you get yourself very wet, getting so wet seems to have impeded your ability to read bathroom signs.”
She glances down, a tiny, embarrassed smile on her lips. Lawson takes another step toward her, and I exhale. I can’t tear my eyes from the girl, from the way she’s standing there, curves perfectly filling out her pencil skirt, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
My cock aches with the thought of what might come next: pressing myself to her back, her pale neck under my lips, pressing my cock between the perfect twin globes of her ass as Lawson kisses her ferociously, both of us making her moan at once.
My face between her thighs, spreading her legs as she leans over the counter, gasping in pleasure as my tongue traces her slick folds…
“That’s very kind of you,” she demurs. “If you’re worried about my ability to do my job, I assure you the lapse in my mental faculties was temporary. In fact, I’m already much better.”
Her eyes flick over to me, and I see her take in the length of my tall, muscled body with a single glance. She doesn’t linger over my tented slacks, but I know she sees it.
There’s no way she doesn’t see it.
Then Jenna takes a quick breath in, tightening her hands on the paper towels she’s still holding to her chest.
And tosses them away, toward the garbage can.
“See?” she says, her eyes wide, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m dry already.”
I can’t stop myself any more. I step forward, walk behind her, rest my hands lightly on her bare shoulders.
I’m trembling with lust, my whole body tense like a spring at being so close to this forbidden girl who’s consumed my every waking moment — and plenty of my sleeping ones — since she started here a few weeks ago.
I hear Jenna sigh, her body relaxing, and she sways back into me. Now we’re touching nearly head-to-toe, my body taut and electrified.
I lean down, put my lips to her ear from behind. I swear I can feel her shiver slightly, and Lawson steps forward as well, slides a hand around her waist.
“Are you sure you’re not wet at all?” I growl into her ear.
I slide my hands down her bare back, past the band of her bra, to skim over her hips. As much as I want to tear her clothes off right here, right now, I’m forcing myself to take it slowly. Think before acting.
Jenna’s breath catches in her throat, and I put my lips on the spot right beneath her ear just as Lawson claims her mouth with his own.
Chapter Seven
Jenna
Oh my God.
Oh my GOD, what am I doing?!
Lawson kisses me hard, needy and rough enough to feel like his lips are bruising mine.
Needy and rough enough for me to forget myself completely, opening my lips under his and letting his tongue plunder into my mouth, taking whatever he wants from me.
At the same time, Kade plants his lips on my neck, the echoes of what he just said to me zinging back and forth through my brain.
Are you sure you’re not wet at all?
His hands move across my hips, down the sides of my thighs. He’s surprisingly gentle for someone so gruff, with such a reputation among the other secretaries for being ruthless in the courtroom and even with his colleagues.
And most of all, he’s right. I’m dripping wet with need and desire, certain my panties are already soaked through even though I’ve only been standing in this bathroom for a few minutes.
With my bosses.
For a second, my brain screams in alarm — you can’t do this, it’s against the rules, what if someone finds you here — but then Lawson’s fingers slip beneath my bra straps, pulling them down over my shoulders until one nipple is exposed to the cool air and I gasp, his mouth hovering over mine.
“I didn’t have you pegged for the trashy lingerie type,” he murmurs, his fingertips whispering over my nipple.
I moan quietly as it hardens under his touch at the same time Kade presses himself against my back, something thick and hard nestled between my buttocks.
That’s his cock, a tiny voice in my head whispers. It has to be, is it really that—
Kade grabs my hips and pushes a little harder just as Lawson’s fingers close around my nipple, rolling it lightly.
I moan again, louder this time.
“I don’t usually wear this kind of thing,” I manage to gasp out. “I meant to do laundry yesterday, but—"
“Don’t apologize,” Kade growls, his lips over the back of my neck. “There’s nothing sexier than an innocent girl wearing something naughty.”
His thumbs slip under the hem of my tight skirt, and slowly, he starts pushing it up my thighs.
I moan again, toes curling in my shoes. All at once I desperately want him to reach the top of my thighs, brush his fingers across my soaking panties and find out just how much I want this, but I’m also afraid of what might happen when he does.
I shouldn’t want my bosses this much. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about them every night when I go to sleep. I shouldn’t be thinking wicked things about them as I ride the train to work every day.
More than anything I shouldn’t be here, now, because what if—
Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock on the door.
I freeze, gasping, my hand over my mouth.
Of course someone else wants to use the restroom. How could I be so stupid? I’m in a men’s restroom in a place with a dozen male employees — of course someone else wants to use the bathroom!
I open my mouth to say something, maybe I’m in here by accident, sorry, one minute, but that wouldn’t explain Lawson and Kade being in here, too.
But before I can say anything, Lawson puts his hand over my mouth with a wickedly charming smile.
“I’ll be right out in a jiff,” he calls, winking at me.
Despite everything, the wink still sets off butterflies in my stomach.
“What are you—" I whisper, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t worry, peach,” he murmurs back. “I’ve got this covered.”
With that, Lawson gives me one more needy, bruising kiss, then turns and walks through the bathroom door, leaving me suddenly unsteady.
Kade’s hands are still beneath the hem of my skirt, mid-thigh.
“We should go,” I whisper nervously, but he just chuckles.
Then he suddenly spins me around until I’m facing him, wobbling just a little on my heels.
“Let Lawson do his thing,” he growls, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “He’s never let me down yet.”
“I can’t get caught,” I whisper, searching his dark eyes for reassurance. “You can’t get caught, I’m sure—”
“What did I just say?” he says, his voice low and teasing as one hand comes up to cup my chin, the pad of his thumb rough. “Don’t worry, peach.”
I swallow.
“Why are you calling me that?” I ask in a whisper.
Kade doesn’t answer right away, but he slides his other hand over my ass, the motion so dangerous and possessive that I shudder with desire again.
What’s wrong with me that I’m acting like this? I wonder.
“Because you’re sweet, ripe, and juicy,” he says, a twinkle his eye. “A shame I didn’t get to find out how juicy, but that can wait for another day.”
I blush again, hard, and Kade chuckles. He squeezes my ass with his other hand, his fingers right at the crevice between my thighs, and I can’t help but arch my back a little.
I want those fingers on me, touching me there. I want him to find out how crazily, impo
ssibly wet I am right now at the thought of both him and Lawson taking turns on me — or more.
“I shouldn’t be doing this at all,” I whisper, but I don’t make a move to leave.
He just smirks, lowering his face to mine.
“I disagree, peach,” he says.
Then he kisses me.
I’m surprised that Kade’s kiss is gentler than Lawson’s — I’d have bet anything that it would be the other way around. He kisses me slowly and surely, his tongue nudging between my lips until I part them for him, opening my mouth to him with a soft moan that I can’t help.
He strokes my cheek as he kisses me, his other hand still in the cleft between my legs, making my desire pulse and pound, the need for them shaking me to my core. When he pulls back he’s still smirking, then gently hands me my shirt from where I’d abandoned it on the bathroom sink.
“This should be almost dry,” he says, letting his smooth voice bottom out. “And even if it’s not, it wasn’t as see-through as you think.”
I take my shirt quickly, swallowing my nerves, and put it on. Kade watches me hungrily as I do all the buttons, then tuck it into my skirt and look at myself quickly in the mirror.
He’s right. It’s not really very see-through anymore, and in another ten minutes it’ll be like nothing happened.
I bite my lip, taking a moment to smooth my hands over my outfit, Kade looking over my shoulder.
I don’t look like someone who’s fantasized about her bosses nonstop for weeks.
And I don’t look like someone who just made out with them both, at the same time, in the company bathroom.
I can’t do this again, a voice in my head whispers.
Are you sure? Another voice whispers back.
“I think you’re safe to leave,” Kade murmurs, his eyes locked with mine in the mirror. “I’m sure Lawson’s taken care of whoever was out there.”
“Taken care of…?” I ask, scenes from action movies dancing through my head, but Kade just chuckles.
“Talked them into using a different bathroom,” he teases.
Then he squeezes my ass again and nudges me toward the door. Obediently, I walk, my heels clicking on the floor.
When I get there, I hold my breath. Kade is still watching me, his eyes devouring my image hungrily, his hands in his pockets as he leans against the sinks.
I grab the door. I unlock it, praying that no one is outside, that no one’s about to watch me leave the men’s bathroom while my boss stands behind me, looking like the cat that ate the canary.
Then, before I can think any more, I pull it open and walk through.
And sigh with relief.
The hallway is deserted. Not even Lawson is out here.
Head down, I walk back to my desk as quickly as I can.
No one seems to notice a thing.
Chapter Eight
Lawson
It’s easy to convince someone not to use a bathroom. Just tell them that there’s been a vaguely-worded mishap, and they’ll run away faster than you can say monkey’s uncle.
Once I chase away the associate attorney who had to pee, I look at the bathroom door for another long moment. Every cell, every molecule in my body wants to go back in there and put my lips on Jenna’s again, hear the way she sighs with pleasure as we both touch her in ways that no one should be touching an assistant.
I take a step toward the door. I’m imagining Kade in there, still, with her.
Even though we had an unspoken agreement — we share her — I’m still jealous.
I can’t stop myself from imagining what could be going on. Is he kissing her, hiking her skirt over her waist? Does he have her bra off, tossed onto the floor as he hoists her onto the counter, one nipple already between his teeth?
Is my sweet peach whimpering with pleasure as he strokes his fingers along the edges of her wetness, feeling her excitement, her desire — all without me?
My hands clench into fists, desire pounding through my veins.
Go back in, it whispers. Go in there, wrap her legs around you, give her what she so obviously wants.
I take a deep breath and let it out.
I can’t. We already almost got caught once, and that can’t happen. We would all get fired, but worse, our reputations as attorneys would take a hit — we could get other jobs, of course. It wouldn’t even be hard, but it wouldn’t be somewhere as good as Hamilton, Clark, and Leonard.
No. I want it all — my job and the girl, so I turn on my heel and walk away, back down the hallway to my office.
There, I read through tedious memos and pages and pages of court transcripts until I’m no longer imagining Jenna, face flushed, lying back on my desk while we fuck her.
At five-fifteen that afternoon, Paul Leonard raps on the jamb on my office door and then steps inside, unannounced.
I look up at him, a quick bolt of panic shooting through my chest. Leonard is the oldest, most senior partner at the firm. He’s basically retired by now — he spends far more time on the golf course than he does in the office — but he’s still the big boss, at the top of the food chain.
And there’s no reason for him to be stopping by my office, unannounced, himself. Why wouldn’t he send his assistant?
“Paul,” I say smoothly, standing from my desk chair and buttoning my jacket. “To what do I owe the honor?”
A moment later, Jenna appears behind him, wide-eyed and startled. She’s supposed to announce any and all visitors to Kade and me, but I’ve no doubt that Paul Leonard simply strode past her with a single nod, and Jenna’s not about to stop him.
“Mr. Leonard is here to see you?” she says, her voice nervous, her eyes flicking to him.
I can’t help but smile. Even like this, nervous as a rabbit, she’s gorgeous. Irresistible. Completely—
Not now, Lawson, I tell myself.
“Thank you, Jenna,” I say.
She holds my gaze for just a moment too long, and even though the man standing between us holds my job in his hands, I can’t help the bolt of desire that courses through me. It’s visceral, tangible, almost unreal how much I want this girl.
“Go home,” I tell her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Even though I’d rather see you tonight, after hours.
She ducks her head and steps out of my view, while Paul Leonard comes in and sits in one of the leather chairs positioned in front of my desk. Even though he’s in my office, he waves his hand at me to sit as well, and I do.
“The DiMaggio trademark case,” he says without preamble.
“Kade and I are still working discovery on that, along with—"
He waves his hand again, dismissively this time.
“Not my concern at the moment,” he says. “I’m sure the two of you are building something that’ll utterly destroy these Trentine assholes in court, you always do. No. I’m here because the President and CFO of DiMaggio Holdings wants to meet the attorneys working on their case.”
I lean back in my office chair, waiting for him to continue.
“Tomorrow,” he says.
“Of cour—”
“In London,” he goes on. “He’s flying the two of you out for four days. First class. Along with Miss McAlister, so you’ve got someone to take notes.”
He shrugs.
London? Shit.
“Don’t know why he insists on flying her out as well. These days, can’t your phone take notes for you in meetings? The things can practically wipe your ass!” he says, then slaps his knee.
I smile because he’s my boss, not because it was funny.
“It’s his money,” I say levelly.
“Damn right it is, so he wants you in the UK for a few days of meeting and whatever it is he’s got for you to do,” he says, then pushes his hands against his knees and levers himself to standing, adjusting his jacket as he does.
“If your girl’s already gone you can have mine book you the tickets, though you’d probably better tell her what her week
end plans are,” he says, the words trailing over his shoulder, Paul Leonard already halfway out the door.
I tilt my head back against my expensive leather desk chair and exhale hard, because I’ve got a mountain of work on my plate already and don’t need four days of travel to compound it.
Jenna’s coming with us, I think.
It’ll be just the three of us.
No one else from the firm. No nosy secretaries, no glowering boss.
Just us, in a hotel. For four days.
Alone in my office, I grin widely at nothing at all.
Chapter Nine
Kade
London?
Paul Leonard has to be fucking kidding me.
As he walks back through my office door, I fight the urge to throw a stapler at the back of his head, because he thinks he can just up and tell me that tomorrow, I’m going to another country.
The shitty part is that he’s right. He can tell me that, because a client demands it and this is America, where the customer is always right.
Even though I’ve got piles and piles of work to get through, most of it for his case. Even though I had plans this weekend that didn’t involve being on a plane for nine hours.
Plus, that’s four days that I won’t see our peach, Jenna. Four days that I’ll be jerking off in a hotel room, halfway across the globe, thinking about how soft her thighs were beneath my fingers and how badly I want to do so much more to her.
I’ve no sooner stood from my desk, figuring I’ll go talk to his secretary about travel plans in person, then Lawson is there, standing in my doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the jamb.
“You excited for our little trip?” he says, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.
I stand. I glower.
What the hell is he so happy about?
“Not particularly,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Is he being sarcastic?
Lawson lifts one eyebrow.
“Leonard didn’t mention it to you,” he says, matter-of-factly.
