Page 48 of Boss with Benefits

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The office was dark,the hum of the air-conditioning the only sound when I stepped off the elevator. Still, I treaded softly around the work desks, looking for my bag.

I ducked my head into Derrick's office and then down to the podcast studios, but there was no sports bag. I turned in circles, trying to think where else it would be.

Sometimes lost items got dumped in the supply closet at the back of the office. I walked down the hallway and reached for the handle when a deep, familiar voice on the other side stopped me.

Derrick.

His voice was low and intent, and I wondered who he was talking to in there. I debated leaving, but I needed my stuff.

I pressed my ear to the door, straining to make out the words.

"Come on, big guy. You gotta go down. I can't do this now. Not here. Fuck!" He banged something, and metal rattled. "Damn it. Come on, dude."

I chewed my lip, trying to make sense of it. Was he on the phone? He sounded kinda desperate. Whatever. I needed my bag. I was gonna be late as it was.

I yanked the door open and halted. Derrick stood with his back to me, looking down at something. Next to his right foot was my athletic bag. I itched to grab it but there was something off about Derrick being in this closet. He wasn’t holding his phone.

"God damn it." He groaned again.

His hands tensed in and out of fists at his sides, and that's when I saw his pants and boxer briefs were around his knees, the back of his bare thighs facing me, his gray T-shirt covering his ass.

Holy shit.I smacked my hand over my mouth, muffling my gasp, when I realized who—or what—he was talking to. Derrick, the man who was always in control, was having a pep talk with his dick.

With measured steps, I creeped backwards and began to close the door. The hinge squeaked and I held my breath, but it was too late. Derrick whipped his head around, his eyes wide with horrified shock when he spotted me.

"Uh, hi, Boss."

24

DERRICK

"Get out!" I roared, humiliation surging through me as I tucked myself further into the tiny closet.

How was this happening? How was I standing here with the biggest hard-on of my life and Rachel was directly behind me to witness?

I wanted to die. No, strike that. I wanted to murder Lexi for telling me to take the damn Viagra. I thought I had time. Pop the pill, head home for a quickie with my hand, then meet my fam for dinner.

But the universe fucked me over.

One urgent call from the head of marketing about a last-minute talk show appearance, and by the end of the conversation, I was pitching a major tent in my pants.

I wasn't about to jerk off in my office, even with the whole place empty, but I also wasn't going to walk around the streets of Manhattan saluting everyone with my flagpole.

My solution? Going to the supply closet to take care of business. It was secluded and secure, or so I thought, but once I got here I just couldn't do it. It felt wrong to tug one out at the office.

So, like a damn fool, I started begging my cock to go down. Then Rachel fucking Arya barged in on me, and here I was with a massive boner and Rachel as my witness.

Behind me, she squeaked out something that sounded like a laugh.

"This isn't fucking funny, Rachel." I grappled for my pants, furious. "Why the hell are you even here?"

"Um, I need my bag." She pointed to a navy athletic bag next to my right foot.

Fuck my life.

I tried to kick it toward her, but I didn't have much leverage with my back to her and me holding my pants up by one hand. The bag barely moved.

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