Page 106 of The Perfect Mistake

“I’m more interested in hearing about you and your dancing career,” he says. “I have questions. Sweetheart… did you see that you have Sunday night off?”

“Yes, I did.”

“So do I,” he says. “I’ve asked Katja to stay and watch the kids. Have dinner with me.”

“Just the two of us?” I ask. The question feels intimate, and it hangs in the air, the words two of us growing until I think I’ve misspoken. We’ve never talked about an us. Never spoken about more than just sex and pleasure and stolen moments like this.

But he nods. “Yes, just us two.”

“Okay,” I murmur.

“Good.” His hands stroke up my bare thighs one final time before he sighs. “I was half-hard the moment you walked into my office, suspecting what you had planned.”

“You were?” I whisper.

“Mm-hmm. Just like you were wet as soon as I touched you.” He turns my head and presses his lips to mine. For a long moment, we just kiss, his hand sliding over my legs while he remains buried inside me. “You’re making me feel twenty years younger, like a teenager again, with how much I need you and how often I want to come.”

“You’re still young,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a self-deprecating glint in his eyes. “No, I’m not, sweetheart. Not the way you are. Now let’s move. I have an en suite.”

I get cleaned up and pull my thong back in place as he looks on, leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom. I tug my dress down and brush my hair into some semblance of order.

He watches me with eyes that still hold a trace of desire, and are much softer than when I first entered his office.

I trail my hand along his suit-covered chest. “I hope I’m the first woman you’ve ever fucked on your desk.”

He turns to follow me, his hands in his pockets. “You are the first,” he says. “I’ll never be able to look at that desk the same way again.”

I pull on my coat. “Well… mission accomplished.”

He smiles at me.

I smile back at him.

There’s another ping from his calendar, and I laugh. “Okay, okay. You’re a very busy man. I’ll leave.”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he says. “Round two doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Tonight,” I say.

He nods and reaches down, adjusting himself through his pants with a wry smile.

That makes me chuckle, and I hoist my bag up on my shoulder. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye,” he says.

“Go conquer the world.”

“Already conquered,” he says.

It’s such a cocky thing to say that I roll my eyes. He looks like a conquerer, too, standing there with his watchful eyes and in his pristine suit, with a messed-up desk and the New York City skyline behind him.

“Rule it well, then,” I say.

“I always do.”

I shake my head at him, and his lips tip up, and I finally reach the door. I don’t want to go. But I do, and the door swings open on electronic hinges to reveal the bright space of the outer office.

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