Page 8 of Love Potions and Paperwork

But as Eugine fidgeted, a better idea struck me.

“This isreallyunacceptable Eugine…” I breathed, leaning toward the mantis and catching a whiff of his clean aftershave that made my mouth water. Eucalyptus and heady florals. Sexy, but understated. Not unlike the man himself.

Gods, I did always love a submissive.

“Unless you’re willing to help me out, that is?”

“Help you out?” he asked slowly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t imagine how I’d do that.”

Oh, I wassogoing to have a scandal on my hands.

“Well, for starters, you could get under my desk and make me come while Diane picks up these fucking documents.”

“Oh,fuck,” he whispered, his head already bobbing in eager agreement.

I liked that. It was so rare to find a man as eagertoplease as he was eager tobepleased.

But something told me Eugine was nothing like the men I usually allowed into my bed.

And not only because despite his obvious interest and need there was no telltale tenting in the front of his trousers. Did mantis’ even have cocks? I wondered—though the thought was interrupted as another gust of air chilled the sweat sticking my blouse to my back and urged me forward, rounding my desk to sit back in my chair.

I motioned for Eugine to get under my desk, the most grateful I’d ever been that it had a back, all but shielding most of the underneath from prying eyes.

The mantis didn’t hesitate to round the desk and crawl underneath, a relief, given what I was suggesting was more than a little inappropriate.

Fucked up.

“You can say no, you know.” I’d be lying if I said I wanted him to.

“I don’t want to,” he breathed, hesitantly wrapping a hand around my calf and pulling me towards him with the sound of the wheeled chair rolling on the low pile carpet.

His fingers were surprisingly warm as they pushed up the hem of my skirt to get a view of the scrap of lace I called underwear. Not what I expected given he was more bug than anything else, but pleasant nonetheless.

“Are you sure, Eugine?” I asked, forcing his eyes to flick upward, meeting mine in a clash of green and black.

The hunger there—the desire to please—was overwhelming.

“I was hired to manage your needs, Miss Randall?—”

“Maeve,” I clipped with a soft purr that was hideously close to a whine. “First names are warranted if you’re going to taste my pussy, don’t you think?”

“Maeve,” he murmured the name in a caress, “I was hired to manage your needs,whatever they may be.”

“You interns are always soeager. Can’t manage a coffee order and think you have any hope in hell of pleasing me? Think I’ll just give it up that easy?”

“No,” he swore, eyes roving over the curve of my calf, long fingers trailing up the silken fabric of my thigh-high stockings, the elasticized band squeezing the soft flesh of my upper thighs until it spilled slightly over the top like an overfull ice cream cone.

They were one of my favourite parts of my body,positively delicious.

“You deserve to be worshipped,” Eugine whispered, moving to kiss the shiny patent leather of my stiletto, the flat of his tongue passing along its side as he trailed toward my ankle, slowly peeling away the shoe and setting it aside with a pace that could only be described as reverence.

I shivered, my lips parting on a pant as my pupils dilated into slits.

“Aren’t you going to call for Diane, Maeve?” he asked, his hand gliding along the soft material until he reached the elasticized band, snapping it lightly against my inner thigh.

My knees trembled faintly as I reached for the intercom system, pressing the button down. Eugine began to repeat the motion on the other side, kissing and nipping along my calf.

“Diane—” I hissed, fighting to keep my voice level despite the dizzying amount of arousal pounding through me the higher Eugine worked up my leg, mouthing at the back of my knee and making me squirm. “The wind blew some papers off my desk, come pick them up.”

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