Page 18 of One Hot Moment

I spread my legs as I push two fingers between my thighs.

Moaning deeply, I splay my fingers to rub my folds. At the same time, I massage my clit with the pad of my thumb. With my eyes closed, I can fantasize about the one thing I should never want---Spencer inside me. This one time, I will indulge that desire.

I rub myself faster, harder, desperate for the climax I need so badly. My fantasy becomes far more erotic and intense as I picture Spencer pushing me up against the wall and slamming his cock inside me, over and over, while I lash my thighs around him and hold on for the ride.

The orgasm hits me so hard that only a strangled cry bursts out of me.

I slump against the tile wall, unable to move a muscle for a minute or two. Then I turn down the temperature and take an actual shower, the kind that gets me clean but doesn't involve moaning. As much as I enjoyed that little interlude in the shower, I want the real thing. I want Spencer.

The fraternization policy doesn't forbid coworkers dating.

No, no, no, I will not risk my career for one good bang.

I don't know that it would be good. Maybe Spencer is a terrible lover. He's quite straitlaced at work, aside from the kissing incident, so he probably wouldn't go wild in bed. Of course, he did spin around and around in his office chair. That suggests he might have wildness hidden inside that businesslike exterior.

When I wake up in the morning, I realize I should never fantasize about Spencer ever again. Those fantasies might bleed into my work life. I've never been great at reining in my passions.

For the rest of the week and all weekend too, I employ all my willpower to stop thinking about my boss naked in the shower with me. On Monday, I sit down at my desk at eight forty-five, as usual, and begin setting up my desktop for the day. I find a folder and fill it up with documents---Spencer's itinerary for the day, suggestions for people he should speak to, the latest risk analysis assessments from his team. I've just closed the folder when I hear laughter coming from the boss's office.

The clock on the wall tells me it's ten to eight. Spencer shouldn't be in his office yet, though I would expect to see him step out of the elevator at any moment.

More laughter. That's definitely Spencer's voice.

I approach the door and place my ear on the cool surface.

"---not going to make it a spectacle, I'm sure."

He's in the middle of a conversation. Should I knock? Or just go back to my desk? Not sure which is the better option.

Spencer laughs with even more volume. "Yes, all right, you win the argument. I really must get to work now, love. Goodbye."

Who is his "love"? I didn't think he had a girlfriend. Well, that term of endearment might be aimed at a friend, not a lover.

The door flies open, and I'm caught in the act. Oh, damn.

Chapter Nine

Spencer

The look on Tabitha's face reminds me of a cartoon character who just got a fright. It's endearing. Why she's in a state of shock eludes me for about five seconds. Then I realize what she must have been doing. No one stands that close to a door unless they want to knock---she didn't---or they want to spy. Once I'd finished my phone call, I strode over to the door, assuming Tabitha must be at her desk by now. I've become dependent on her daily itineraries. She creates one every day and hands it to me in a crisp cardboard folder. Despite her free-spirited nature, she is a professional at work.

When I yanked the door open, she yelped.

I still can't stop smirking, enchanted by her wide-eyed stare. "Did you enjoy the conversation, Tabitha?"

"What? No, I wasn't eavesdropping. Not on purpose."

"Ah, I see. It's unintentional spying."

"Exactly." She tugs her suit jacket down, though it doesn't seem to need straightening. "I'm so sorry. Spying isn't in my nature, but I heard you laughing, and it was before eight o'clock, so..." Tabitha winces. "I have no valid explanation for what I was doing. You probably got up early today to talk to your girlfriend back in England."

Yes, because I need to be in my office to do that. It's not as if I have a mobile phone in my possession at all times.

I tilt my head to the side, studying her. "Come into my office, Tabitha, please."

"Sure. Just let me grab my folder."

"That can wait a few minutes." I turn sideways to the door, waving for her to enter my office. "Go on, pet."

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