Page 47 of French Martini

I’ve just finished closing out a ticket when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Smiling when I see Oakley’s name, I swipe the text open.

Oakley: I’ll be there in ten minutes. Be ready.

Me: For?

Oakley: To deliver on your promise.

My cock instantly swells as I read the words. What is he gonna ask of me at work? If he thinks I’m going to let him fuck me in the office during business hours à la Indy and Salem he’s… I pause. Hmm. That would be hot, but no. That’s not my style.

I try to busy myself, but every time the door opens or a chair scrapes across the floor, my breath hitches. Last night’s edging session was everything I’ve never been brave enough to ask a lover for, and somehow Oakley just knew what to do to tap into my most secret need. Now I’m jumpy and turned-on because of a simple text. Damn, this man.

When the door opens and his bulky frame momentarily blocks the light, I’m positive I’m two seconds away from coming in my pants. I blow out a slow breath and pretend to study a random piece of paper, highly aware of his approach.

“Hey, kitten.”

I glance up, adopting a practiced neutral expression. “Hi.”

He chuckles, unzipping his heavy tan work coat. “Got a minute?”

“I’m very busy.”

Tilting his head, he glances around. “I think the other guys can handle it for a few. You owe me, and I came to collect.”

“What do you want?” I hiss. “I’m not having sex at work.”

“Didn’t ask you to.” With his index finger, he lifts my chin, surveying the marks he left all over my neck. He hums happily, taking another step toward me. “I’m positive you don’t want to do this right here.”

The sliver of self-preservation and defiance in me is no match for the curiosity and heat spreading through my body. “Office.”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

Indy grins, and as I walk past the bar, he winks at Oakley. Once inside the office, Oakley closes the door behind him.

“What can I do for you?”

Oakley stalks toward me, grinning. “You know this cold, professional thing you do drives me wild, right?”

“Is that so?”

“I love it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I know the other side.” He shrugs his coat off, letting it fall to the floor and encasing me in a cage of his arms as he plants them on the desk on either side of me. “I know how pretty you are when you beg.”

Pressing my hand to his chest, I gently push but end up gripping his pec muscle instead. “Oakley.”

“Don’t worry, kitten. I promised I wouldn’t embarrass you and I won’t.” He lifts my left hand. “Where’s your ring?”

“Home in my safe. It’s too valuable to potentially mess up here.”

“Hmm. Fair. I like it better on you though.”

I huff. “What do you want, Oakley?”

He grins. “Two things.”

“I’m listening.”

---