by Chloe Lane
I force myself not to gasp.
He’s obviously hard beneath the fabric of his expensive pants, perfectly tailored to fit his body, but I pretend not to notice, and definitely pretend that I haven’t glanced…there. Maxwell Kane is my boss. We’re not really partners—we’re definitely not on that level—and there is absolutely no way I can keep daydreaming about him—especially not when all the evidence points to a mutual attraction.
He doesn’t say anything about it, either, just leads the way across the room, extending his arm toward a door off to the side. Inside is a smaller version of the polished desk in his office, a desk chair, and a low bookshelf with a collection of three fake succulents in glass jars.
“Is this mine?” I know I sound like a breathless teenager, but I can’t help it. My own office? Attached to Maxwell Kane’s? It’s more than I could have hoped for, straight out of law school.
“All yours,” he says, and I make another determined effort not to glance down at the front of his pants.
I step past him, getting a whiff of his just-showered spicy scent as I go past. Mmmm. The office is small but comfortable, with an overstuffed armchair in the corner near the single window and a small side table perched next to it. It’ll be the perfect place to catch up on paperwork and case notes. On the other side of the room, a door leads out into the main hallway.
“Thank you,” I say, turning back to him with a gracious smile. “I’ll bring in some things to make it a little more cozy.”
The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You do that.” Then he glances down at his watch. “I’ll give you a few minutes to settle in before we get started.”
Then he’s back out in his own office. I can hear him rolling his chair back on the carpet and sitting down, then the steady flip, flip, of papers as he reads.
I let out a silent breath and walk around my desk, settling down into my own chair. I don’t have much with me today—just the handbook and my purse—so I put the handbook in one of the top drawers and the purse in one of the bottom drawers. The center drawer has a package of pens and a few highlighters inside it.
My pussy pulses between my legs.
God, I want him so badly. He’s so handsome, so powerful, so confident…
I stand up, pushing the chair back from the desk, and clap my hands together. This is a job, and I need to be good at it if I’m going to have my own law career. It’s not enough just to pass the bar, so even if I have to spend every single day here wet and bothered, I’m still going to do a damn good job. I take a deep breath and cross back into Maxwell’s office.
“All set, Mr. Kane.”
He looks up at me, eyes shining with lust, but the expression disappears almost as soon as I notice it. “Good.” He gathers up a packet of papers from his desk. “I have court in an hour, and, as I’m sure you know, you’ll be there with me. Here’s a summary of the case so far. Have a seat in here and we’ll go over it together.”
I move quickly over to his desk, reaching for the papers, my hand brushing against his. An electric jolt runs between our hands, and I can’t stifle a little gasp.
“Is there—is there anything you need before we get started, Mr. Kane?” I finally blurt out.
There’s a pause, just a heartbeat, and then he answers. “No. Nothing.” Another smile. “Take your seat.”
4
Maxwell
She doesn’t hesitate when I tell her to sit down, her body turning toward the chairs located across the desk from mine, almost before the words are completely out of my mouth.
If I’m not mistaken, Emma Mason wants me.
I can’t ask her now, on her first day, in her first hour, but I can see her nipples poking against the fabric of her suit jacket, and the rosy color in her cheeks isn’t just from being nervous about starting a new job. No—when she walks, her hips sway in spite of herself, and when she was standing in the doorway between our offices, I saw her press her thighs together under her skirt, the muscles tensing.
Her hands tremble on the packet of papers as she sits, back straight, in one of the leather chairs normally reserved for clients. She bends over the summary, reading, the curve of her neck exposed by the way her blonde hair is pulled back into that bun, and those lips—
Damn it, her lips are already driving me crazy, and it’s just her first hour on the job.
The tip of her tongue peeks out between those lips as she reads, forgetting herself for just a moment, focusing hard.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Her breasts move up and down with her breathing, and every movement is intoxicating, alluring. I want to cup those breasts in my hands while I take her from behind, bent over my desk.
She keeps her knees tucked primly together as she sits, feet crossed at the ankles, and I would bet anything—anything—that if I could get her to spread those legs, it would reveal the world’s most perfect pussy. Ten minutes in, and I know she hasn’t been with many men. I can just sense it by the way she looks at me, by the way her gaze follows every move I make, by the way she fucking gasped when our hands touched.
I felt it, too. I felt that surge of energy as it sparked between us. It shot straight down my spine and made my cock jump in my pants.
I have to get it under control, but she’s close enough that I can smell the clean scent of her shampoo, smell the dab of perfume she’s wearing—not enough to be cloying, just enough to be noticeable—and I want to bury my face in her neck, lick that creamy skin from jawline to navel, and keep licking until I’ve had my fill of her juices, until she can’t possibly come anymore.
It takes her almost a minute before she feels my eyes on her and looks up at me through her fluttering eyelashes, blushing again so prettily that I almost lose it right then.
“I think I’ve got the gist of it,” she says softly, biting at her lower lip. “But Mr. Kane?”
Mr. Kane.
I want my name on her lips, crying out for me, submitting to me, begging for more as I claim her. I want to hear her say it, and the need is so desperate that it’s all I can do not to shut the door to my office right now and get started.
“Any questions, I’m an open book.” I keep my tone light and jovial, all while keeping my eye on the office door.
“What is it that you want me to do while we’re in court?”
I want her to bend over and hold the witness stand tight while I thrust into her with my cock. The image brings a smile to my face, and Emma smiles back, a hint of nervousness returning to her expression.
“Don’t worry,” I say with a laugh. “It’s your first day. Right now, I just want you to observe and take notes. You graduated at the top of your class, didn’t you?” It’s a tidbit I read in her file last Friday, back when I thought she’d be…well, something else entirely.
Emma smiles wider, pride lighting up her face. “I did, yes.”
“Then you’ll be caught up in no time. For now, just get a feel for how I navigate the courtroom, and stay right by my side when we enter and exit the courtroom.” I lean in, dropping my voice confidentially. “It’s not a secret, you know.”
Her eyes go wide. “What’s not a secret?”
“That you’re here to make me look good.”
She laughs, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be with that. You already make yourself look pretty good.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “My boss begs to differ. But don’t be overwhelmed by the court scheduling today. I’m not expecting you to change everything on your first day.”
Her big, blue eyes lock on mine, and a little grin plays at the corner of her lips. “Don’t be surprised if I do.”
My cock strains painfully against my pants. I know Emma is talking about making a good impression at the office. She wouldn’t dare say anything about the way she’s keeping her legs clamped together like she can hardly stop them from spreading for me. There’s no way she’d casually bring up the tension that’s radiating between us, hot and strong and overpow
ering.
She would never say it, but the fact is that she’s already changed everything, and it’s only her first hour on the job.
I give her a jovial laugh, letting my smile travel all the way up to my eyes even as I fight the urge to grit my teeth. “I’m sure you’ll do very well here, Emma.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help out. I’m so grateful for the opportunity.” The smile on her face has turned a little unsure, and it sends a hot spike of need thundering through every single one of my nerves.
“Duly noted,” I say with a grin, and then I arrange my face into something more serious. “So…are you ready?”
Her hands grasp the packet of papers tightly in her hands. “Ready for what?”
One more secretive adjustment under the desk, and I stand up, pushing my chair back. “We’re due in court. I’ll drive.”
5
Emma
Four days of working in such close proximity—and we’re close, more often than not, just because my office is connected with his and it’s in my job description to accompany him virtually wherever he goes—is setting my nerves ablaze. And not slowly, either—I’m like a forest fire that ignites from a single match strike into a blazing inferno within the first five minutes every day.
I just don’t know what to think about him.
All day on Monday, I felt the charge zinging between us, lighting up the air I found myself struggling to breathe. I saw the tent in his pants caused by what has to be a massive erection.
At least, I think I saw it. By Tuesday afternoon, when it hasn’t made another appearance, I’m wondering if I can trust my own eyes. Of course, it’s not like I can walk around staring at his zipper all day.
As much as I might want to.
On Wednesday, I’m finally starting to settle into my new job, walking past Mrs. Johnson in her office on the way to Mr. Maxwell’s with my head held high.
“Good morning, Mrs. Johnson!” I call out, and I’ve nailed it on that perky, professional tone. I belong here, even if—
“Ms. Mason,” she calls. I’m one step away from being past her doorway, but in that tone there’s an explicit stop right there.
“Yes?” I put on my biggest smile. Mrs. Johnson has never been anything less than perfectly professional, even verging on kind, to me, but she has such a sense of authority that it makes me nervous to hear it ringing from her voice.
She assesses me from behind her desk, her gray hair swept neatly into a twist at the back of her head, and my heart thuds heavily against my rib cage. She’s not going to ask me about my first days with Mr. Kane, is she? Was she lurking outside the door during that first conversation we had? Is that what this is about? I rack my brain to try and remember if I said anything blatantly inappropriate. Did he? All I can remember is the singing tension between us, the way I wanted to reach out and unbutton his shirt, the way his deep blue eyes locked on mine…
Am I about to get fired?
“How is your first week with Pierce & Harwood coming along?”
I’ve worked myself up into such a silent frenzy that the question takes me aback. For a few moments, all I can do is blink at her—is she really just asking me how I’m settling in?—and it’s almost too late when I finally get my voice to work.
“Yes!” I say, and the pitch is too high, I know it, so I clear my throat and try again. “Absolutely. I’m really starting to—starting to hit my stride here.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Johnson says, pressing her lips into a smile. Is it a genuine one? “The partners are pleased with your work so far. I’m sure they’ll be stopping by at some point during the week to introduce themselves.” She taps her fingers on her desk. “I wanted you to be aware of that in advance. In a firm of this size you won’t have much to do with them, but they do like to get to know our new faces.”
I nod, forcing myself to stop before it gets weird. “Thank you so much for telling me.”
Mrs. Johnson fixes me with one more look. “Do let me know if you have any bumps in the road, Ms. Mason. I know Mr. Kane’s personality can be—” She purses her lips, searching for the right word. “Intense.”
I laugh. “I’m learning a lot from him.”
Is it me, or do the corners of her mouth turn ever so slightly downward?
“I won’t keep you any longer, Ms. Mason. I’m glad things are going smoothly.”
Dismissed, I head back out into the hallway and duck into the women’s restroom, closing the stall door tightly behind me.
I’m probably reading too much into it.
I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and then do it again when my heart rate still hasn’t slowed. Mrs. Johnson is just an intimidating person, that’s all. And obviously she keeps a close eye on how things are going at the firm. She’s HR, after all.
Think through this logically, I tell myself, and I’m instantly back at law school, tracing pathways through case briefs and drawing painstaking conclusions. The partners don’t have time to supervise everyone like she does, so she’s their eyes and ears in the office.
Yet, except for that first conversation, there’s been nothing untoward going on in Mr. Kane’s office. He’s never so much as looked below my neckline.
I step out of the stall and wash my hands, dabbing a cool paper towel against my face, careful not to disrupt my makeup, but my skin stays hot.
Nothing has happened, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to.
I want to keep my job. I don’t want to go back to the café—that’s for sure. I don’t want to have to wear the itchy apron and deliver cup after cup of coffee to old men who stake out tables for hours at a time and leave fifty cents for a tip.
I want to be here.
Is it so wrong that getting to see Maxwell Kane every day is a perk of the job?
I stare into my own eyes reflecting back at me in the mirror. A perk of the job, yes, but one that’s already driving me wild.
When I get down to his office, he’s already there, sitting behind his desk, papers in his hands, and as I come through the door, he looks up at me and smiles. Everything in my body goes hot, a new wave of wetness drenching my panties, and the chill of nervousness about Mrs. Johnson is almost wiped away.
“Good morning, Emma.”
“Good morning, Mr. Kane.”
Almost…
6
Maxwell
Every time she looks at me, my office rises a hundred degrees in temperature. Has it been three days since she started working here, or years, that I’ve had to focus all of my willpower on not gliding my fingertips down the creamy skin of her neck, stripping off the prim jackets and tugging off the silk shells and high-necked shirts she wears underneath, every day?
By noon on Thursday, it’s an understatement to say that I’m hot under the collar. I’m burning up, combusting, and it’s all because Emma is so damn close.
In a way, she might as well be across the country when she sits in her chair across from my desk, reviewing case notes for court this afternoon.
“I just want to make sure I understand—” She leans forward, gesturing at the stack of papers with a pen— “The defense has no leg to stand on with this witness, do they?” Her blue eyes flick up to mine, huge and innocent, her makeup subtly applied, just enough to show up on camera and still look demure and professional. At the sight of those robin-egg blues, I forget what she’s asked me only seconds ago, but I cover it with a smile.
She grins back, unconsciously lifting the pen to her pink lips and biting down gently, so gently, with her flawlessly white teeth. God, do I want those lips wrapped around me, want her tongue playing over my shaft while I—
“I’m sorry, Emma. What was the question?”
Emma gives me a faux pout. “You should pay more attention, Mr. Kane.”
If I pay any more attention to her, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.
“My apologies,” I say, throwing my hands up. “Repeat it once more, please.
”
I let a little bit of command slip into my voice on the last few words, and I notice the shiver that runs down her spine. “The argument against this witness is reliability, first and foremost, yes?”
I glance down at the paper, scan the witness name, and nod. “That’s what I’ll be presenting to the court today.”
“And he’s unreliable because…”
“He’s a close relative of the defendant.” My stomach growls at the same time my cock pulses in my pants.
Emma looks across at me again. “I don’t want to step on your toes, but—”
“Step away.”
“I did some research into this witness, and it’s not the first time his testimony has been dismissed.” Emma takes me through a brief outline of a case that was tried four years ago, pushing a slim stack of papers across the desk to me. “I could be wrong about it, but I don’t think I am.” She sits up in her chair, straightening her back, and holds her breath.
“I’ll be damned.” I read through her notes and let out a low whistle. “I should have caught this, Emma. It’s a good thing you did.” A funny warmth grows in my chest when she smiles at my praise, her cheeks going pink. Emma has an unbelievable body—petite, tight, with just the right curves to make me want to bend her over this desk and take her right now—but she’s also not a pushover in the intelligence department. I don’t just want her.
But I can’t think about that right now, because I’m becoming undone at the need spiking through me. I make a show of checking my watch.
“We’ve got another two hours before we have to be there. Do you want to order in lunch? It’s on me.”
“Sure. Where from?”
“Andy’s, on the corner? Sandwiches and salad?”
“I’ll put in the order right now.” She stands up gracefully from her seat and moves into her office, hips swaying side to side, ass lifted just the right amount by her kitten heels.
