Filthy Flirt: An Office Romance

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Filthy Flirt: An Office Romance Page 4

by Chloe Lane


  “Features?” I sneak a glance at her, but she’s just stepping in front of me and pulling one of the boxes from the shelves.

  “This model is a dildo and a vibrator. It’s a pretty popular one.” I take it from her when she holds it out. The packaging is sleek, and the dildo almost looks space-age, black and silicone and thick. I’m wet just looking at it.

  “Yep,” I say with a quick nod. I have to get home to my apartment, and soon. “This is the one.”

  Her words wash over me while she rings it up, puts it in a discreet bag, and hands me the receipt, and her voice follows me as I push open the door and step back out into the heat, turning in the direction of my apartment even before it closes—

  And running straight into someone else.

  10

  Maxwell

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  I had to get out of the office after work, and I abandoned my car in the parking garage. It’s six blocks to my condo, but after breathing in Emma all day, I have to get some air. Her sweetness is too tantalizing.

  I’m not expecting to get another lungful of her on the way home, but then she steps out of a sex shop on Third street, a bag clutched in her hand, and slams right into me.

  I reach out to steady her for the second time today, while she flushes a deep scarlet, mumbling, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry—” while she stares at my shoes. It’s not until her eyes flick upward, once, quickly, then again, going wide—a classic double-take—that she sees just who she has run into. “Mr. Kane.” Her breathless whisper has my cock rock hard, again, and her cheeks go another shade of pink. I’d like to turn her bottom cheeks another shade of pink, too, now that I’m looking at her out here on the sidewalk, a recent sex shop purchase dangling from her fingertips, and looking like she’s been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. Oh, I could make her love it.

  “I’m—I’m so sorry,” she tries again, and her body shifts from side to side like she’s trying to decide if she’s going to leave, but her feet stay rooted to the spot. “I’m just on my way home.”

  Out here in the heat, the last of my restraint has been stripped away. I should nod casually, say something flippant, and head back to my apartment.

  But I don’t.

  “From a sex shop?”

  I keep my voice a low murmur, even though there’s nobody in sight on the sidewalk, and Emma bites her lip, looking down. “Yes, Mr. Kane.”

  That phrase—so spontaneous and sheepish—has me ready to come in my pants. “Emma.” She looks back up at me, her eyes a light liquid blue that looks paler in the sunlight. “There’s no reason to be ashamed of visiting a sex shop. Adult women do that kind of thing all the time.”

  “Yeah,” she says, an exasperated expression flying over her features. “But adult women don’t usually—” Emma stops, snapping her lips shut, then lifts her chin, the defiant pose making my chest go warm. “You know what? I shouldn’t be saying any of this to you. I’ll see you on Monday, Mr. Kane.”

  “You should call me Maxwell.”

  It takes her aback, her forehead wrinkling. “What?”

  “You should call me Maxwell when we’re in the office. I’m not really your boss. More of a mentor. With your work ethic, we’ll be on the same level soon.”

  She can’t stop herself from grinning. “You think so?”

  “You’re a good lawyer, Emma.”

  It’s probably one of the most sincere conversations I’ve had with someone in a while, and I’m not sure why I’m choosing this moment to have it, only that I couldn’t let her walk away from me. I couldn’t let her think—

  “Thank you.” Her voice has softened with pride. “I’ll try my best to call you Maxwell in the office.” She tastes the word in her mouth, another wave of color rising to her face.

  “When we’re alone, you should call me Mr. Kane.”

  The little grin flies away from her lips as they drop apart, a little gasp escaping her. Her breasts rise with the gasp, and I want to peel that silk shell away from her skin and toy with her nipples until she’s writhing beneath my hands, begging me to make her come. “When we’re alone?” She’s practically whispering, like we’re not on a public street with traffic noise to cover any of our words.

  I put my hands in my pockets and look into her eyes, unflinching. I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t hide it. “I want to be alone with you, Emma.”

  “But it’s not—it’s not—”

  I step closer, willing myself not to reach out and touch her, but our faces are inches apart. “It’s not appropriate?”

  “No.”

  “Not at the office, no. But look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not burning up with this sexual tension between us. Look me in the eye, right now, Emma, and tell me that you didn’t just visit a sex shop because you’re as desperate for me as I am for you.”

  She bites her lip again, her eyes locked on mine, and the air between us is vibrating with our unrequited need for each other, her breaths coming fast and shallow. I haven’t touched her, not once, other than to break her fall twice today, and yet being this close to her is like getting sucked into a black hole. I can’t break away from her, and I don’t want to.

  “I can’t tell you that,” she admits. The tension shifts, releases, then tightens again. “But what—what are we supposed to do?”

  I lean in close, my lips next to her ear, and I tell her the unvarnished truth, growling it because it’s that raw. “I need to be with you, Emma. Alone. Now.”

  She takes in another breath, and a soft breeze blows a few strands of her hair against my cheek. “Right now? But where—”

  “My place.” I move past her, in the direction of my apartment, then stop, turning back, leaning down again. “You don’t have to come with me, Emma. You can turn around right now and go home, and I’ll never mention it again. I’ll never hold it against you. Nobody at the firm ever needs to know.” Those eyes on mine… “But if you want this as much as I do, then come with me right now, and I’ll show you why it’s not wrong. Why it’s the right damn thing for us to do. Come with me, and you won’t regret it.”

  Then, the words hanging in the air between us, the invitation extended, laid bare, I hold my breath.

  11

  Emma

  “I’ve already made up my mind.” The words tumble out of my mouth even as my grip tightens on the handle of the bag from the sex shop. He knows where I’ve been. He must know what’s inside. I have nothing left to hide from Maxwell Kane, nothing at all. I feel like I’m caught in a spotlight, in front of an audience, and now is my big moment. “I want to go with you. I want—”

  He raises one hand between us, pressing one thick finger to my lips. “That’s all you needed to say.” Then he leans in, one more time, his voice deep and rough. “Save the rest for when we get to my place.”

  One hand placed just above my elbow, he steers me down the sidewalk, letting go only when we’ve matched pace. The afternoon sun beats down on my shoulders. I want to strip off my suit jacket, short-sleeved as it is, right now, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop for anything until I’m safely inside his…

  Condo? Apartment?

  We walk in silence, the sound of the rush hour traffic washing over us, for four more blocks until Maxwell turns into the lobby of an understated condo building, four stories tall, the kind of place my ramshackle apartment building could only dream of being. There’s no peeling paint on the siding here, just a smooth white exterior.

  My heart leaps into my throat. I’m about to walk into Maxwell Kane’s condo, an enormous dildo in the bag I’m holding. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be risking my job, my reputation, everything—but when he strides confidently into the lobby, I’m right there at his side.

  He sweeps me into the elevator, and for a moment, after he presses the button for the third floor and before the car starts to rise, he turns and looks into my eyes, the blue of h
is dark and stormy and smoldering. My breath hitches. He’s going to kiss me. He’s absolutely going to kiss me. He steps closer—

  Just as a low tone sounds and the doors swing open. Maxwell straightens up, running one hand over his dark hair. “This way.”

  He leads me out of the elevator, takes a left, then takes another left, heading straight for the end of the hall, pulling a thin set of keys from his pocket. I hold my breath as he unlocks the door, pushes it open, and steps inside.

  I step in after him, my heart pounding against my ribs, and he leans past me, chest brushing against my shoulder, to close the door, flipping the deadbolt behind us. He smells like cologne, like the leather and books of the law firm, like a man I want…

  “I—”

  I don’t know what I’m planning to say, but it doesn’t matter, because in the next instant Maxwell closes the gap between us, frames my jawline with both of his hands, lifts my face to his, and covers my mouth with his lips, taking me, tasting me, the kiss passionate and hard and unrestrained.

  My purse and the bag from the shop fall to the floor.

  I’m melting into his touch, into his dominance, and this is just one kiss. My body aches for more, and everything in my pulse beats that his hand on my elbow, even his hands touching my jaw, the delicate sides of my neck, are not enough, are never going to be enough for me. I want to be taken by him completely. I want to belong to him completely, in every way.

  The kiss deepens until I have to break away, have to gasp for air, and when I pull back I’m surprised to find that I’ve wrapped my hands around his wrists, my grip tight. Don’t let go. Don’t let go.

  He takes in a breath of his own. “God, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.”

  “You’ve only known me a week.”

  He lets out a short laugh, moving closer, the length of his body pressed against mine. “Look me in the eye and tell me that matters.”

  I take another gulp of air. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t at all. It feels like an eternity that I’ve been waiting to—” I bite my lip. I’m not sure what it is, exactly, that I want from Maxwell Kane. Everything he has to give—even if that means exploring places I haven’t gone before.

  A shiver runs down my spine. I’ve hardly gone anywhere before, if this kiss was any indication.

  “You’re ready for me,” he says softly. It’s not a question.

  “Yes.”

  I whisper the word, looking up into his eyes, and I see a fiery need burning there that he has to be struggling to control. I’m a blaze that can’t be extinguished. He has to be an inferno.

  “Tell me something, Emma.”

  “Anything.” I can’t get my voice to rise.

  “Have you been with anyone before?”

  My heart skips a beat. I open my mouth to ask if he means sex, but of course he means sex. My cheeks flush. “A couple of guys. In college. But nobody like you.”

  He leans in, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down my bare arms. “And you want more than they could give you.”

  My voice is almost ragged when I force the words out. “I need more. I need more—” I hesitate, deciding. “I need more, Mr. Kane. I need you.”

  He bends, dragging his lips down the side of my neck, and I moan at the tingling sensation that follows wherever he touches. “Be a good girl, and I’ll give you what you need.”

  My chest goes hot, and between my legs I can feel my juices collecting, trickling down the insides of my thighs. “I will. I will—please.”

  “First things first,” he murmurs into my ear, his hand slipping underneath the hem of my skirt. “What were you doing at the sex shop, you naughty thing? Show me what’s in that bag.”

  12

  Maxwell

  Emma’s eyes fly open at the command, and she bites her lip, an embarrassed little grin playing over her face. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be ashamed of going to the sex shop.”

  I don’t take my eyes off hers. “Do you feel ashamed?”

  “No.”

  “Then be a good girl, and show me what you got.”

  The phrase seems to change something in her, and she takes a step back, lowering herself gracefully down to pick up the bag from where it fell to the carpet. I resist the urge to tell her to stay on her knees, even though my cock is desperate for some attention, and I’m desperate to see those blue eyes looking up at me while she takes me down her throat.

  But it’s not time for that. Not yet.

  Emma stands up, pulling a long box from the thick plastic bag, and presents the dildo to me, blushing. I hold her gaze for a long moment before I look down at the package. It’s a top-of-the-line model, thick and black, with a vibrating feature. It’s not quite as big as my cock, but almost.

  I snap the box open and lift it out. “What were you planning to do with this?”

  Her pretty lips drop open an inch, her face going tomato red. “Well—use it for its intended purpose, I guess.”

  I step back to her again, putting my hand on the back of her head, drawing her in and kissing her again, my tongue exploring the sweetness of her mouth, a delicate minty taste that makes me want to devour her. When I pull back, I have my next question queued up. It’s not really a question. “You were going to fuck yourself with this big, silicone cock.”

  She takes in a quick breath. “Yes. I was.”

  “And what would a little thing like you need with a cock this size?” Emma tries to bury her face in my shoulder. “Look at me when you tell me.”

  She lifts her chin. “I’ve been thinking about you for a week. More than that, actually.”

  “Longer than the week we’ve known each other?”

  “I saw you on TV the day that the firm called me back and offered me the job.”

  “And you liked what you saw?”

  Her eyes narrow, and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “I more than liked it. I was about to—” Then she shakes her head, laughing a little. “My concentration was interrupted by the job offer from your firm.”

  I click my tongue. “Terrible timing.”

  “It was nothing compared to…the last week. Especially last weekend.”

  “What happened last weekend?”

  She squares her jaw, presses her lips together. “I spent the entire thing—” Another wave of color flushes her face, washing over her creamy skin. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop—”

  “Touching yourself? Making yourself come?”

  Emma trembles a little under my hand. When she speaks again, it’s the lightest whisper, sending tantalizing shocks over my skin. “It wasn’t enough. That’s why I went to the sex shop today. I was trying to find something—anything…”

  “I see.” I lift the dildo in my hands, testing the weight, then take her hand in mine, leading her into the living room and around to the leather sofa, the deep color of wine. “Take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable here. I’ll be right back.”

  Her hands are already fluttering to the buttons on the front of her jacket as she sinks down into the center seat. “And then what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I move toward the hallway, and behind me Emma takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  I wash the dildo carefully in the bathroom sink, soaping it up, taking my time, my cock rock hard at the thought that Emma is sitting out there, waiting, her shoulders exposed, wet and ready for me.

  When I get back out to the living room, it’s exactly the scene I pictured. She’s sitting, back straight, in the center of the sofa, hands in her lap, jacket neatly folded on one of the arms. She looks up at me with her eyes wide, flicking between my face and the dildo in my hands.

  I want her kneeling on the carpet, holding my cock in her hands, working the tip of her tongue over the head. Instead, I kneel in front of her and lean in, covering her mouth with mine.

  She’s so ready, so hot, that the moment we touch she lets out a low moan. “Please, Mr. Kane,”
she says softly into my ear. “I was going to go straight home—”

  Her words end in a gasp as I slide my hand under her skirt, my palm against the smooth skin of her inner thigh, going until my fingers meet the lacy fabric of her panties and push them aside, stroking her wet slit. Soaking.

  “Poor thing. You’ve had to wait too long.”

  Her head is tipped back against the back of the sofa, and she raises two trembling hands to put them on my shoulders as I tease her, gliding my fingers over her opening for just long enough to have her squirming before I take them back, moving to pull her panties down until I have to raise one of her ankles to slip them off underneath her kitten heels.

  On my way back up, I kiss the inside of her knee, and she lets out a little mewl, spreading her legs without having to be asked. Then I’m kissing up the side of her neck again, one hand flicking the switch on the dildo.

  Emma’s eyes widen at the hum of it, and she breathes harder when I push her skirt up to her waist, revealing the most gorgeous pink pussy I’ve ever seen. She’s slick and soaking, glistening already in the golden light filtering into the condo.

  “You need this,” I growl softly into her ear. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Her eyes close as I slip my hand between her legs, moving the vibrations closer to her core, closer, closer—

  13

  Emma

  I’m spread out on Maxwell Kane’s sofa, my skirt around my waist, my pussy totally exposed, drenched, and I can’t get enough of this.

  Every nerve is a live wire, a current of desire running through me so strongly that it’s pressing my legs apart, opening me for him in a way that I’ve never even considered opening for any other man. His hands are on the inside of my thighs, his mouth leaving hot kisses on my jawline—I’m drowning in a sea of need, and I don’t want to be rescued.

 

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