NSFW

by Piper Lawson

  “Avery met my grandmother,” I blurted. When I turned, I found Payton staring at me.

  “Holy shit. Have you ever introduced a guy to her before?”

  “No.”

  “Charlie. Do you love him?”

  I opened my mouth to say no way, but the words stuck in my throat. “I can’t, Payton. It’s against the rules.”

  “Screw the rules.”

  “But they’re not Alliance’s rules. These are our rules. And we promised each other we’d keep this casual. If we break that…” I could picture his face. The betrayal. The way he’d close off, get cold. “I’m not sure what’s left.”

  “Then maybe you can take it slow. Test him out.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning what if you break one teeny, tiny rule and see how he responds?” Her eyes sparkled.

  Three heads turned toward me when I knocked on the door. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

  Mr. Siskinds and his business partner turned toward my voice. I only cared about the third head as I hovered in the doorway, tugging at the edge of my skirt.

  “Charlie,” Siskinds said, his face dissolving into a wide smile. “Good seeing you last week. The gala was the most fun I’ve had in ages. I might have to book that comedian for one of my restaurants sometime.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Siskinds. I’m sure she’d love that.”

  Avery’s attention went to my face. Stayed there.

  “Mr. Banks, Mr. Redpath wants to see you later today. I’ve booked you in for three but wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte,” he replied smoothly. “We’re nearly done.” I nodded and went back to my cubicle.

  It felt more like my desk than it ever had, which was strange since it was nearly three weeks since I’d done my “real” job. But then, a lot had changed. Someone—probably Mallory—had left a snapshot of the gala team, and on impulse I’d pinned it up on my board.

  Noises from Avery’s office meant the door had opened and his meeting was filtering out. I was typing on my computer when a form appeared over me.

  My smile was polite. “Mr. Banks. I assume Mr. Siskinds wants to open that new restaurant?”

  “He does. And we can help him.” He cleared his throat, scanning the room before his gaze came back to me. “Can I see you in my office?”

  I followed him across the hall. I pulled the door closed after us.

  “Does Redpath really want to meet me at three.”

  I tried to look offended. “Yes. You think I made that up?”

  “You just had to come in and tell me. Looking like that.” He looked me up and down, his gaze scanning my burgundy blouse, the grey pencil skirt.

  “What does ‘like that’ mean?” I crossed the room and hopped up on his desk.

  He followed me, pausing with a few feet between us as his gaze roamed my face. “Like an angel. Or the devil.”

  “I have something to show you.”

  “Charlotte, not in the office. We agreed...” he trailed off as I held up my phone.

  I showed him the email from Riley as he read over my shoulder. The easy intimacy of it wasn’t lost on me.

  “Looks like it’s possible to have your current program report everyone who’s accessing data, and build in permissions. Riley’s got someone who can even do it this week.”

  “Fuck, I could kiss you.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  I waited for him to look happy. But when Avery’s gaze settled on me, it was full of something I couldn’t read.

  “We said not in the office.”

  “Actually, we said that in the office you’re my boss and I’m your assistant.” I shifted one leg over the other, felt his gaze linger on my thighs. “So tell me what to do.”

  His eyes darkened, and he closed the last of the distance between us. His hand settled on my thigh, fingers lightly digging into my flesh.

  I pulled his hand up my skin, under the edge of my skirt.

  Higher.

  High enough his hand reached my hip. Where he should’ve felt the edge of panties. The ones I’d stripped off before coming in here.

  His expression heated. “Say it again.”

  I knew what he wanted. “Mr. Banks.”

  Avery’s mouth found my jaw, sliding along the skin there and waking every nerve ending on the way. “Why is that so fucking hot.”

  I shifted, tugging my skirt up around my hips. Slid my fingers between my thighs and let out a little moan when I brushed my skin.

  Avery’s gaze, hot and wanting, made me feel like a goddess. I reached up to pull the elastic out of my hair, shaking it out.

  He traced a finger along my neck. I arched against his touch. “Put it back up,” he murmured.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to sweat. And I want to see it.”

  Holy shit. This man.

  I complied, and on a groan his hands tugged my ponytail, pulling and forcing me to arch against his mouth when it traveled down to my collarbone.

  Yes. Yes, yes.

  This was what it felt like to win when it mattered.

  I felt the air on my skin when he popped one button free, then two. Then his mouth moved over my chest and tugged down my bra, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a groan that would’ve had me wet if I wasn’t already.

  “I need you to do something for me,” he muttered.

  He switched to the other nipple, and I would’ve signed over my life in that moment for the feel of his hot breath on my skin. “All right.”

  “I need you to type out an email.”

  The fantasy screeched to a halt. “You’re kidding.”

  The challenge in his eyes taunted me. I could refuse, but I wanted to find out what he was up to. “Go around the desk, bend over my computer, and open a new email.”

  Finally I did.

  “Dear Charlotte.”

  I tried to turn around but he stopped me. “No. Type.” I did. “I wanted to express my appreciation for your help with the client database project. It will be transformative for this organization.”

  He was closer, but I didn’t know what he was doing until the creak of leather told me he’d taken a seat in his chair. His hands found my ass.

  Avery’s breath between my legs made me jump. When his tongue licked down my hot slit, I nearly knocked the keyboard off the desk.

  “This isn’t working.”

  “It is,” I whined.

  “You need to be quiet if we’re going to do this here.” I glanced back to see him unknotting the tie from his neck. It came around my mouth, and I dripped down my thigh right then and there.

  His fingers brushed the back of my cheek, and I sensed for the first time how close to the edge he was.

  I turned, and he cleared his throat. “I wanted to show my appreciation.”

  He nudged my legs farther apart. His mouth returned, and I moaned into the tie. He rubbed a circle around my opening, and I shuddered.

  “I don’t hear typing,” he reminded me. “You stop typing, I stop appreciating.”

  I tried to remember what he’d said and did my best to repeat it.

  “Good girl.” His fingers came back, rubbing circles over my clit.

  My legs shook as he stroked me, punctuated by his mouth. He sucked and licked and tweaked and teased me. It was so fucking hot. He was so hot.

  I should’ve felt awkward doing this in the middle of the day on his desk. His financial statements under my elbows. His computer screen in front of me. It made it…real. Because if this was ever a fantasy, it wouldn’t have been like this. The details would’ve been missing. The strain in my legs from bending over in high heels. The vibration from his mouth. The stretch as he pressed another finger inside me, pulling a moan from my throat. The slightly bitter taste of the fabric in my mouth.

  “I trust you’ll continue in your productive service. Sincerely, Avery.”

  He must have glanced up, because his fingers stopped. I could’ve sobbed.r />
  “Charlotte. I didn’t ask you to write an email full of gibberish.”

  I reached to the gag in my mouth, pulling it down. “I didn’t ask you to stop licking my pussy.”

  He pressed two fingers into my mouth. I sucked, my eyes closing as I tasted my flavor on them.

  Then I heard the zip of his pants. Followed by a tearing noise. I glanced back to see him rolling the condom down his thick cock.

  “You wanted to fuck in my office, Duchess,” he murmured against my ear. I shivered. “We’re going to do it my way.”

  He pulled me toward him. His hard cock found my pussy, and I nearly choked on his fingers as he tugged me all the way down on him.

  The noise that escaped from him—the part of the groan he couldn’t hold in—was the hottest thing I’d ever heard.

  This was where we’d started, and if it was where we ended too, that was enough. In this moment, here with him, I couldn’t see the past or the future. Just this, just now. Feeling completely taken and overwhelmed and part of him. Desperate to pretend he was mine too.

  “Shit, Charlotte,” Avery murmured in my ear. “So fucking good.”

  I found his reflection in the dark computer monitor, and my lips released his fingers with a pop.

  “Avery…” I managed.

  He followed my gaze. His fingers dug harder into my hips as his gaze met mine in the reflective surface.

  I didn’t resist when he reached for the tie looped around my neck and pressed it back into my mouth.

  I swallowed saliva as his hand found my breast, working and twisting my nipple until my head fell back in pleasure. My hips lifted and lowered on his cock, riding him. Glancing every few strokes up at the monitor, our gazes locked.

  I needed this. The man I knew was more than he showed to the world. More than he offered anyone.

  He built me up, and I wondered if he felt that too. His shuddering breath against my back, the kneading of my breasts as he fucked me hard until we both crashed over the edge, me crying out into the tie as he groaned against my neck.

  I collapsed on top of him.

  I pulled the limp tie from my mouth with shaky hands. “Fuck,” I panted, holding up the soaked silk. “I hope you have a spare for your meeting with Redpath.”

  He let out a low half-laugh. “That was…”

  “…unbelievable.”

  I shifted off him, turning to sit on the desk facing him. His face was damp with sweat, wrecked and satisfied. Underneath it was something I couldn’t read. Something that had my heart turning over.

  Maybe if he was into this enough he’d realize we couldn’t end this. That with his promotion in sight and finding a new assistant imminent, he wasn’t ready to sign off from this.

  Voices beyond the door reminded me where we were. I started straightening my clothes, and he stood and did the same.

  “There’s something I want to ask you,” he started, zipping his pants and reaching for his belt.

  “OK.” I adjusted my bra straps.

  This was it. Our chance.

  “I need to talk to Kenna.” His voice was still rough from what we’d done. “It could be a touchy subject, and I thought maybe you’d approach her.”

  “Kenna?” I blinked, trying to catch up. “No problem.”

  Was it about our relationship? That he wanted to make sure she’d be OK with us?

  Yes. That had to be it.

  “That would be a huge relief. There’s no one else I’d ask to do it. This tuition conversation won’t go away. Now she’s threatening to drop out of school. You know firsthand how hard it is not to go to school. I don’t want that for her.”

  I’d just finished buttoning my shirt when his words sank in. My hands stilled on the final button.

  “Wait. You want me to talk to your sister about her school.”

  “Yes.” He said it like it was obvious.

  “So I’m the cautionary tale. It’s ‘Don’t be like Charlotte.’”

  He frowned, confused. “Of course not. But she has this chance, and I don’t want her throwing it away. Her options will be limited.”

  Because I was still the woman who didn’t make the right choices. Who didn’t have the answers. Who’d screwed up so others could learn from her lesson.

  I was good enough for him to fuck in his office, but that was where it ended.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” I finger combed my hair and rounded his desk, heading for the door. “Good luck in the meeting with Redpath.”

  “Your phone’s been ringing for the last hour,” Rose commented when I returned to my desk.

  I lifted the receiver and frowned when I heard the message. My finger pressed the redial button. “This is Charlie Merriweather.”

  “Ms. Merriweather, it’s Tracy from the retirement home. It’s your grandmother.”

  25

  People Do It in Movies

  “What are you looking at so intently?”

  I glanced up at the guy working the café counter. “Cookies.”

  “You want one? The chocolate chip are our best sellers.”

  “No.” I took the coffee and set my change on the counter before turning and starting toward the door.

  I walked home and let myself up into the apartment. The gray weather outside made it feel just as depressing inside. The floorboards I hadn’t noticed were starting to warp. The cheap cabinets reflecting back the light.

  But the majority of my tiny one bedroom was dominated by boxes. A dozen of them, forming a cardboard fortress as high as my head.

  And they might as well have been a fortress. Walls that felt like they were crushing me.

  A truck had moved them here this morning from the retirement residence. The guy who’d dropped them off had no idea what they were. Just asked me to sign for them in a bored voice.

  The last twenty-four hours had been a haze. A continuation of the numbness I’d felt since leaving early yesterday, asking Rose to cover for me with Avery. I’d managed an “I’m fine” to her concerned face as I stumbled out of the office.

  I’d spent last night at the retirement home. And on the phone. In a blur of compassionate faces and questions I didn’t know how to answer.

  The medical staff said it’d been sudden. A stroke sometime after lunch. The funeral home was cremating her according to her wishes. They said they’d let me know when she was ready to be released.

  Released. Like they were holding her somewhere, and any minute she’d bust out, cackling “Gotcha, suckers!”

  I knew there were things I should be doing. I’d even Googled “what to do when someone dies.” But I couldn’t bring myself to click through even the first result.

  So when I’d gotten home at one this morning, I’d opened my freezer to get some waffles for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever the meals I’d missed were.

  I’d taken one look at the frozen cash and shut the door. Then padded to my bedroom and lay there staring at the ceiling.

  Now it was nearly two in the afternoon. All I’d managed to do was look for coffee, realize I was out, and stumble down the street in my pajamas to get some at the café.

  The phone made me jump. I glanced at it, letting it go to voicemail.

  The caller tried back a minute later. I reached for the phone, sighing before I answered. “It’s Saturday.”

  “You left early yesterday.” Avery’s irritated voice came down the line.

  “It’s the weekend. We don’t do weekends, remember?”

  He cursed. “Don’t hang up. I’m at your door.”

  I dropped back onto the couch and felt my soul fold in with my body. Dammit.

  I couldn’t deal with anyone else. “Avery…I can’t do this right now. We can talk Monday.”

  I hung up and went back to staring at the boxes.

  I’d spent the night before on the phone with my brothers, telling them the story. They’d offered to come and help, but I knew Jimmy was busy getting ready for the wedding and Matt was supposed to be taking h
is wife and two little girls on vacation next week. They asked if I wanted our parents to help, and I’d said a firm and immediate no.

  A scratching at the window on the far side of the kitchen pulled my attention. I crossed the floor and opened the window.

  “What the hell? The fire escape?”

  “People do it in movies all the time,” Avery bit out from his position kneeling on the metal of the ledge outside my window. His expression was dark as the clouds. I pulled him in through the window.

  Avery shoved a hand through hair that’d been messed up by sweat or the rain outside. He brushed off his chinos and polo shirt. The WASP wardrobe stood out against my faded pink shorts and purple off-the-shoulder t-shirt, threadbare from too many washes.

  “Were you in bed?”

  “No.”

  He turned around, his gaze landing on the boxes. “What’s with the boxes?”

  “Grams.”

  His brows knit together, and to his credit he figured it out. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

  “She was old. That’s what happens. No matter what we’ve done with our lives, whether we’ve fucked it all up or won a goddamned Oscar or run our own company, we’re all in the same place in the end. All that’s left is a box sitting in someone’s living room.”

  He crossed to me, folding me in his arms without asking permission. I reached for his forearms to push him away, but he refused to let me go.

  “Avery, we don’t do this.”

  He stiffened. “I can’t tell you I’m sorry.”

  “You can say it. But you can’t act like that matters.” I stepped back, reaching for my coffee on the counter. Cupping the paper cup protectively in my hands. The warmth didn’t reach my body.

  “No?” he challenged. “You’ve got it all worked out, have you? Arrangements? Your feelings? Ready to go on with your life? Charlotte, I know what it’s like to have someone leave when you least expect it. To turn what you thought you knew upside down.”

  I took a sip of the drink, staring past him at the boxes.

  “I’m the executioner,” I mumbled finally.

  “Executor?”

  “Whatever.”

  His gaze raked across my living room, and the compassionate mode was gone, replaced by something else.