I’d only been working at the agency for two years, so what I’d accrued would have been wiped out if I’d tried.
So what this meant was Logan hadn’t really paid twelve grand of his money for me. He’d paid even more.
“Why would you do that?”
He looked guilty. “Part of me felt responsible. I’d come to trust your work, so I had barely glanced at the proof you’d sent me.” His eyes changed and turned warm and seductive. “A much larger part of me did it because I wanted to.”
“Why?” I think I blushed.
“Because I thought you’d be amazing.”
I don’t know why I was nervous when he was the one being interrogated. “So, was I?”
“Didn’t I make it clear that you were?”
My breath was gone for a half-second and then returned with the realization. “Wait, was that a question?” That meant he was supposed to have consequences, but my brain failed me. I couldn’t come up with any kind of playfully torturous thing to do to him that wouldn’t be torturous for me as well. “Answer my question. How did you know about the club?”
He looked a little disappointed that was all I’d come up with.
“Come here, and I’ll show you.”
I sighed and got out of the chair, taking three steps to get behind his desk when he stood abruptly and pulled me against him. “What are you—”
He silenced me with one of his mind-numbing kisses. It wasn’t a delicate, soft kiss. It was an aggressive, controlling, devouring one. He’d slipped a hand behind my neck and the other was tight on my ass, pressing me against him. I struggled to stay above it, but I was drowning in him. Desire flashed white-hot through my body, straight to the center of my legs.
“You’re not showing me anything I don’t already know,” I murmured between kisses, going back for more. The hand on my ass traveled to the front, dragging slowly up in the valley between my thighs.
The button to my pants was undone in a heartbeat, and he broke the kiss, turning me in his arms so I faced the computer.
“I need you to send an email,” he said. His breathing was steady and controlled, but I was already hopelessly out of breath. He sat in his chair, making sure I understood he wanted me to stand, and he opened a new email compose window. I’d have to lean over him to do it while standing.
“Who is the email going to?” I asked, not moving.
“Evelyn Russell.”
“You want me to send an email to myself?”
“Yes.” His eyes were smug.
I gave him an exasperated look and bent at the waist, putting my hands on his keyboard. I typed in E and V and let AutoFill do the rest.
“What’s the subject?” I asked.
“Computer Usage Policy.”
I started to type when his hands closed around my waist and unzipped the zipper, yanking my pants down past my knees. The air on my naked skin was almost as shocking as the action itself.
“Hmm, I like these,” he said, running a hand over the back of my pink panties. “Keep typing, please.”
Because I’d only gotten three letters into “computer” before turning to him in surprise. He’d rolled his chair back so he was directly behind me and his hands kneaded my skin, skirting the edges of my panties.
“What are you doing?”
“Dictating an email to you because my hands are busy.”
I typed the rest of it, not bothering to put it in title case like I usually do, confusion making this easy task seem like brain surgery.
“Evelyn,” he said, “You may or may not remember . . .” His fingertips brushed over the crotch of my rapidly dampening panties, making me jump. “You should be typing now.”
I typed in a hurry, and when my fingers stopped moving, his started.
“—the company computer usage document you signed when you were hired.” He rubbed the spot that was aching for him through the fabric. I tried to focus on the words and not what he was doing or the desire that was sinking its powerful claws into me.
“I’d like to remind you that your manager has
So what this meant was Logan hadn’t really paid twelve grand of his money for me. He’d paid even more.
“Why would you do that?”
He looked guilty. “Part of me felt responsible. I’d come to trust your work, so I had barely glanced at the proof you’d sent me.” His eyes changed and turned warm and seductive. “A much larger part of me did it because I wanted to.”
“Why?” I think I blushed.
“Because I thought you’d be amazing.”
I don’t know why I was nervous when he was the one being interrogated. “So, was I?”
“Didn’t I make it clear that you were?”
My breath was gone for a half-second and then returned with the realization. “Wait, was that a question?” That meant he was supposed to have consequences, but my brain failed me. I couldn’t come up with any kind of playfully torturous thing to do to him that wouldn’t be torturous for me as well. “Answer my question. How did you know about the club?”
He looked a little disappointed that was all I’d come up with.
“Come here, and I’ll show you.”
I sighed and got out of the chair, taking three steps to get behind his desk when he stood abruptly and pulled me against him. “What are you—”
He silenced me with one of his mind-numbing kisses. It wasn’t a delicate, soft kiss. It was an aggressive, controlling, devouring one. He’d slipped a hand behind my neck and the other was tight on my ass, pressing me against him. I struggled to stay above it, but I was drowning in him. Desire flashed white-hot through my body, straight to the center of my legs.
“You’re not showing me anything I don’t already know,” I murmured between kisses, going back for more. The hand on my ass traveled to the front, dragging slowly up in the valley between my thighs.
The button to my pants was undone in a heartbeat, and he broke the kiss, turning me in his arms so I faced the computer.
“I need you to send an email,” he said. His breathing was steady and controlled, but I was already hopelessly out of breath. He sat in his chair, making sure I understood he wanted me to stand, and he opened a new email compose window. I’d have to lean over him to do it while standing.
“Who is the email going to?” I asked, not moving.
“Evelyn Russell.”
“You want me to send an email to myself?”
“Yes.” His eyes were smug.
I gave him an exasperated look and bent at the waist, putting my hands on his keyboard. I typed in E and V and let AutoFill do the rest.
“What’s the subject?” I asked.
“Computer Usage Policy.”
I started to type when his hands closed around my waist and unzipped the zipper, yanking my pants down past my knees. The air on my naked skin was almost as shocking as the action itself.
“Hmm, I like these,” he said, running a hand over the back of my pink panties. “Keep typing, please.”
Because I’d only gotten three letters into “computer” before turning to him in surprise. He’d rolled his chair back so he was directly behind me and his hands kneaded my skin, skirting the edges of my panties.
“What are you doing?”
“Dictating an email to you because my hands are busy.”
I typed the rest of it, not bothering to put it in title case like I usually do, confusion making this easy task seem like brain surgery.
“Evelyn,” he said, “You may or may not remember . . .” His fingertips brushed over the crotch of my rapidly dampening panties, making me jump. “You should be typing now.”
I typed in a hurry, and when my fingers stopped moving, his started.
“—the company computer usage document you signed when you were hired.” He rubbed the spot that was aching for him through the fabric. I tried to focus on the words and not what he was doing or the desire that was sinking its powerful claws into me.
“I’d like to remind you that your manager has
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