Page 38 of Foreplay with the Boss

Too many emotions swirled through me, and I tried to shove them back so I could finish up the conversation with my dad.

“Good, good,” he said. “That’s what I hoped would happen— why I called in the favor. You know I love you, and I really do want you to be the one to run the home branch, but this company has been in our family for generations, so first I need to know you can handle the responsibility, and that you know how to be a good boss. Okay, pumpkin?”

Nothing said I’m-turning-you-into-a-pitbull-type-boss like calling me the same thing he had since I was a kid.

“I’m going to make you proud,” I said, and I meant it.

I hung up the phone and then took the lingerie to the cashier so she could ring it up. Gripping the bag and reminding myself that I was capable of telling people what I wanted—I just needed to have the courage to open my mouth and do it—I stepped out onto the sidewalk and dialed Jameson’s number.

I’d just decided in favor of leaving a scathing voicemail message to let him know exactly how I felt about his ignoring me when his voice carried over the line. “Kat?”

Shit. With one word my insides turned to liquid honey, and thoughts and the ability to form full sentences flew right out of my head. “Hey.”

“Did everything go okay at the office today?”

Of course. He answered because he thought there was a work emergency. “Yes, yes, it’s all running smoothly.”

“No more insubordination, like at Friday’s meeting?”

“No.” I wanted to say so much more than that one little word, something like why the hell aren’t you talking about the other part of the message I sent on Friday? Obviously you heard it. Just when I thought I was doing better at asserting myself.

“Sounds like you’re handling things like a champ. By the way, I forgot to include it in my email, but I give you full permission to fire Rob.”

“Well good, because he also took the last cup of coffee without starting a fresh pot this morning and when you also take into account that it’s Monday, that’s more offensive than backtalk in a meeting.”

Jameson laughed. “Justifiable means for firing, for sure.” A sigh carried over the line. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Oh, really? Seems like you would’ve called to talk to me sooner, then.” There it was, out in the open, no holding back. Probably too far on the relationshipy side, too, but I fought the part of me that wanted to hurry and take it back so it wouldn’t end up hurting me.

“Well, I’ve had your voicemail to keep me company, and trust me, I’ve used it.”

I attempted to swallow but found it impossible.

“I’ve gone to call a dozen times, only for some other emergency to come up. We’ve been working non-stop over here to redesign a whole new campaign, and it’s been one phone call or meeting after another.” His voice dropped low, his secretive tone dark and enticing. “But now it’s just you and me, baby. Why don’t we start with what you’re wearing?”

Oh, he was going to have to work harder than that. I lifted my chin even though he couldn’t see me. “The usual type of outfit I wear to the office.”

“Come on. You can do better than that. Just give me some hints and I can fill in the rest of the sexy office-vixen look. Are you wearing a tight top that you’re practically spilling out of?”

I automatically glanced down at my ample cleavage. If I didn’t wear a turtleneck or shapeless frock, there was going to be some spillage. “Well, I have big boobs and they’re not exactly easy to contain.”

“Trust me, I know. It’s one of my favorite things about your boobs. I just wish I was there to suck one into my mouth and flick and bite until you were panting my name.”

I slowed my steps, aware of all the people around me, and even more aware of the way my nipples hardened and strained against the lacy cups of my bra. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I was a breath away from panting already. I stepped off to the side of the sidewalk and leaned against a building, closing my eyes so I could focus on just the sound of his voice. “I have on my black pencil skirt, and it’s tight enough to need a slit up the side so I can actually walk in it.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my hand up that slit and slip my fingers into your panties.” His voice grew husky and gruff, and I could feel the ghost of his touch, those slightly callused fingertips dragging up my thigh. “Are you wearing those fuck-me heels, too?”

I shifted my weight. “Five and a half inches of red leather, because I needed a color pop.”

“Naturally,” Jameson said, and I smiled.

“My lips and necklace are the same color.” I glanced over at the shop I’d come out of a minute ago. Part of me thought I should shut this down before I was completely sexually frustrated and people started looking at me and wondering what was wrong. But the other part of me liked the excitement of talking dirty on the phone, not caring that I was technically in public. “They also match the lingerie I just bought.”

His hard swallow carried over the line. “I’m going to need proof.” There was the boss voice, the one that made people hop to.

“I’m afraid you’re in no position to demand such a thing, Mr. Stone.”

His growl set my body ablaze. “Kat. You realize you’re only racking up punishments.”

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