“It would be.” I kissed my way down her neck. “Good thing I love inappropriate.”
“Someone might see…” Her half-hearted protests died when I pushed her skirt up and traced the edge of her underwear with my finger.
It was a summer Friday in August, and the office was basically empty. I’d be shocked if anyone cared enough to check on us.
“That’s part of the fun,mon ange.”I sank to my knees. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs so I can finish my lunch.”
My mouth was already watering, and when she obeyed, I dived in with single-minded intent. Her breathy moans filled the room as I ate her out on the conference table. My cock pulsed. I relished the way she whimpered and tugged on my hair almost as much as I did the juices flooding my tongue.
After a lifetime of dining in the world’s best restaurants, eating meals prepared by the world’s best chefs, she was still the most exquisite thing I’d ever tasted.
Maya soon came with a guttural cry. She was still shaking when I stood, hooked her legs over my shoulders, and drove into her.
“HR… would definitely… not approve of this,” she gasped in between thrusts. Her head fell back, her pussy spasming around me.
Pleasure burned a fiery trail down my spine. I was fucking her so hard the table creaked with every stroke.
Laughter spilled from my throat. “It’s a good thing we don’t work for the same company then.” I hooked her legs higher, nearly folding her in half. “Since you’re still speaking in full sentences, that means I’m not doing a good enough job.” I slammed into her again. “Let’s remedy that, shall we?”
It didn’t take long for her words to dissolve into unintelligible moans. An hour and multiple orgasms later, we lay on the carpet, our breaths ragged in the sudden silence.
I barely remembered when we moved from the table to the floor, but I was too sated to move. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows and spilled across us, warming my already-flushed skin.
Once our breathing returned to normal, Maya faced me. “This is going to sound random, but I’ve been thinking about what happened to your letter, and… I have a theory.”
A jolt of surprise zipped through me. I hadn’t thought about the letter mystery in months, but I waited, my curiosity piqued.
“You remember Neville Grafton, right?” she asked.
I cast my memory back to boarding school and conjured up an image of a tall, skinny kid with freckles and unruly dark hair. “Yeah, he was in Model UN with us. He threw up on Andy Kim during our Spain trip,” I said, remembering the offhand comment I’d made about him during her cousin’s wedding.
“Yes. You were going to tell me something before graduation,and he pulled you away.”
The memory resurfaced, murky with age but clear enough to crystallize into images. That’d been the day after I slipped the letter through the slats in her locker. I’d wanted to make sure Maya received it, but Neville had interrupted us before I got a chance to confirm with her. I didn’t remember his excuse, but I remembered his locker had been next to hers. I also remembered the instances I’d caught him staring at her, his face filled with longing—and the way he’d looked at me during graduation, like he wanted to shove me down the stairs.
I’d thought I was imagining it because he’d been a quiet kid, a little weird, but harmless. Perhaps I’d been wrong.
“At Radhikha’s wedding, you said he might’ve had a crush on me. You were right. But it was, um, kind of abigcrush,” Maya said, blushing. “He asked me out a dozen times, but I always said no. It got to the point where I had to threaten a restraining order against him because he wouldn’t stop leaving me stuff in my locker. Poems, gifts, things like that. This was after Spain. The poems were one thing, but I couldn’t figure out how he was getting the larger items in there even after I changed the combination. I still don’t. But Ithinkhe must’ve seen you leave me that letter, and he intercepted it before I got it.”
“If that’s true, why would he have left it in your notebook?” I reasoned. “He would’ve gotten rid of it to make sure you never read it. And how did he get your signature for the response?”
“Signatures aren’t hard to forge if the person is committed enough. As for why he left it in my notebook…” Maya trailed off. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to figure it out, but the notebook was in my locker too. Maybe he read it on the spot and was going to toss it, but someone interrupted him, and he stashed it in the first place he could find.”
I frowned. “Maybe.” That sounded unlikely, but everythingabout the situation was unlikely.
“We can find out.” She propped herself up on her elbow, her face growing more animated. “If we ask Christian to—”
“No,” I said firmly. “Don’t get used to relying on Harper. It comes with a price.” His fees were exorbitant, but his real trade was in secrets and blackmail. He wasn’t someone you wanted to be in business with unless you were willing to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. Maya’s face fell, and I felt compelled to add, “Besides, I hear he and his wife just had a kid. He’s probably too busy to chase someone down over an old letter.”
According to the grapevine, his wife had given birth to a daughter. Dahlia Maura Harper. Cute name for what I was sure was a cute kid.
It humanized Christian a bit, but I was still reluctant to call upon him for anything except dire emergencies.
“You’re probably right,” Maya said reluctantly. “But don’t you want to know what happened?”
“If I can find outwithoutusing Harper, sure, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. I’m almost glad things unfolded the way they did.” My mouth quirked at her obvious surprise. “If you’d received my letter when you were supposed to, how would you have responded?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “In hindsight, I was… attracted to you, but I was so focused on our rivalry that I might have thought you were trying to play a horrible trick on me.”