Oh. Right. Of course. His luggage. Because Ethan just cut a business trip short and traveled hundreds of miles to crash my date and take me home. Regardless of his feelings about labels or commitment, I shouldn’t doubt his feelings for me. Letting my shoulders relax, I head towards the bedroom to change out of this dress.
Ethan returns a couple minutes later, suitcase in tow. He tosses it onto my bed and digs out a toothbrush and a neatly folded pair of black boxer briefs.
We end up side by side in my tiny bathroom, elbows bumping as we brush our teeth. I try to say something, careful not to dribble foamy toothpaste down my chin, but it comes out garbled and ridiculous. Ethan laughs, which makes melaugh, which makes toothpaste dribble down my chin anyway. Mortified, I duck to spit and rinse while he’s still chuckling.
It’s hopelessly domestic, and I’m fully screwed… literally and metaphorically.
Everything just feels so easy with Ethan. It’s always been this way for us. First at work, then as friends. And now, it’s hard to imagine anything better than crawling into bed beside him—and that’s dangerous.
It would make it so easy to fall for him. So easy to imagine a future that he can’t promise.
After we’ve both crawled into bed, Ethan reaches across me, grabbing my book off the nightstand. The man on the cover is wearing a suit and holding a leather paddle. Even without the cheesy title,Working Late with the Boss, it’s pretty clear what it’s about.
Cocking an eyebrow, Ethan glances at me. “I see your taste in books is evolving.”
“It’s just taking a temporary detour.”Just like us.It’s meant as a joke, but the words feel heavy and slightly bitter on my tongue.
Ethan flips the book open to the receipt I’ve been using as a bookmark.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He glances over at me and smirks. “Reading you a bedtime story.”
I can’t help but smile back, then curl into his side. Ethan wraps an arm around me and starts reading, his voice low and warm. If this detour’s temporary, I’m fine taking the scenic route, especially if it comes with him, half-naked in my bed narrating office smut like my own personal audiobook.
22
Ethan
Margot and I agree on one rule: the office is strictly off-limits.
No kissing, no touching, not even a lingering glance. We don’t mention what’s going on between us within the confines of the True North building.
This was her idea as much as mine. Neither of us wants to deal with office gossip or the potential fallout from this situation.
Technically, we’re not doing anything wrong. There’s no rule against dating within the company, as long as the relationship is disclosed to HR. Good thing, too. If not for bosses falling for their assistants, I wouldn’t have this job, and my brother wouldn’t be marrying Margot’s best friend.
Not thatI’mfalling for my assistant…
I am, however, desperate to get my hands on her. It’s been five days of torture. More than forty hours of wanting to bend her over my desk. And now, that fantasy is actually coming true.
Margot’s elbows rest on the desk in the center of my home office. She’s naked aside from the lacy black pair of panties stretched tight between her ankles. Her copy ofPunished bythe Bossis tossed aside in a nearby chair after we decided that reenacting this scene would be more fun than me reading it to her while we lounged on the couch.
“Not too hard,” she says. “Pain isn’t really a turn on for me.”
“Me either,” I assure her.
Truthfully, spanking isn’t really my thing. I’ve had a few women ask for it. Even though I’ve been happy to oblige on occasion, it’s never done much for me.
Until now, that is.
Seeing Margot like this, both worked up and letting loose, is a truly spectacular sight. And knowing that she trusts me to help her explore all her kinky little fantasies, that does something to me too. Not just turn me on but twist me up in a way I haven’t felt in a while.
A very long while, if I’m being honest.
“Ready?” I ask.
Margot’s entire body tenses. Even without seeing her face, I know she’s biting her lip as she nods.