I need to do something. I have to—
Any capacity for rational thought is ripped from my brain as he buries his cock inside her and her scream fills my ears. He pounds into her over and over, and I hate her. I hate that she’s receiving his perfectly rough thrusts that rip moans of ecstasy from her throat, and all I have is the clenching emptiness between my legs.
I want that. I need that. It’s been way too long since I felt ...anythinglike this. Actually, I’ve never felt anything remotely like this.
This dark edge of pleasure is something I’ve only read about. Wished for. Dreamed about.
Her moans and cries intensify, and he praises her. I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me, and pretend he’s whispering them to me.
My fingers edge toward the hem of my skirt and I draw it up inch by inch.I need more. Just a little—
“My naughty secretary should know better than to touch herself during work hours.”
The deep, rasping words come out of the shadows and brush over my skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
Shock freezes my movements, my fingertips locked on the material of my skirt, as a chair creaks and the disembodied voice takes the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered man stepping into the dim pool of light. A black leather mask obscures the top half of his face, but his piercing blue eyes burn hotter than a five-alarm fire. They sear my skin everywhere they touch.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Ms. Smith?” His sculpted lips are perfect—except for the fact they called me by the wrong name.
“Umm, uhh ...” I stammer as I attempt to find words that can possibly apply to this insane situation. “I-I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong—”
His eyes narrow, but the heat remains intact. “Nobody argues with me in my office. Strike two, Ms. Smith.”
“But I’m here for—” I make another attempt to explain his mistake, but he cuts me off with a tilt of his head.
“Whatever I want.” He emphasizes each word as he takes another step toward me. “And tonight, what I want isyou.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip as he slides his suit jacket off his shoulder and down one arm before repeating the motion with the other. His movements reveal a crisp white shirt perfectly tailored to broad shoulders, thick biceps, and a narrow waist.
Holy wow. He’s sex in a suit.
“If you’re still in this office in ten seconds, I’ll take that to meanyes, sir, I’m ready.”
I glance at the door and back at him as he begins the countdown.
“Ten ...”
Chapter 2
Temperance
I’m frozen stock still. My rational brain is screaming at me to run for the door, yank it open, and flee while I still can. But the other side of me, the side that searched for a place exactly like this, says I can be anyone he wants me to be tonight, including Ms. Smith.
The only person Idon’thave to be is the utterly boring version of Temperance Ransom I’ve spent years creating.
“Nine.”
His countdown continues as he unfastens a cuff link and folds back the cuff of his white shirt, revealing a muscular forearm covered in colorful ink.
Sweet Lord. Tattoos under a suit? How is that even fair?
“Eight.”
My thighs clench involuntarily as he repeats his calculated movement, revealing more tanned and tattooed skin.
This beautiful man is preparing to discipline his naughty secretary. In a scene. In a sex club.
I should explain his mistake. Really, I should ... but my pounding pulse argues that I should at least see what else he’s hiding under those fancy clothes.