Page 23 of Single Dad Christmas

“Do you need me, too?” Stuart Conroy asked from the door, which he’d been just about to walk through.

“Louisa should be able to handle this,” Noah responded, with a curt shake of his head, dismissing the older advertising executive.

“Do you need something, Mr Fox?” she purred, leaving him in little doubt that the last hour had played havoc with her senses just as much as it had his.

He prowled towards his closed office door and clicked the lock in place. “Whatever could you mean?”

“Well,” she said, walking towards him, the glint in her eyes unmistakable. “You see, part of my job is client management,” she said, her fingers reaching for his belt, without moving her eyes from his face. “And I wasn’t sure you were absolutely as happy as you could have been in that meeting.”

Holy shit.

This wasnotgoing where he’d expected.

Not even a little bit. He’d meant to flirt with her, maybe kiss her. But this was…next level.

She dropped his belt to the floor and then took a step backward. “So, if you’d like to take your seat, maybe we can see what I can do to improve things for you.”

“Louisa.” Was that his voice? It was so hoarse. Thick with desire. More desire than he’d ever felt. He was about to come, then and there. “I thought we agreed to keep work andthisseparate.”

Her lips flickered with amusement. Light-hearted amusement, just as they’d promised each other.

“Play along, Mr Fox. A little fun never killed anyone…”

She took his hand and tugged on it, walking ahead of him to the boardroom table and waiting for him to sit down. He hesitated for the briefest moment then returned to his seat.

He swore as she undid his pants, and then again as she freed his rock-hard arousal from his boxers. But when she knelt between his legs and took him deep in her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat, her name was the only word in his mind, and the only word he said, for several minutes.

In those moments of blazing euphoria, her name was both a lifeline and a swan song; her name was everything.

From the sublime,Noah thought, to the most definitelynotsublime.

That scene in his office, which had most definitelynotbeen PG, had replayed in his mind about a hundred times throughout the afternoon, right up until the moment he’d crashed headlong into the reality of his life and wanted to do a little running away of his own.

Taylor, never really much fun to be around at the moment, was in an even worse mood than usual. She slammed the door after climbing into his car, glared instead of saying hello, and finally grunted, as they drove down the driveway, “You’re late. I could have just gotten an Uber.”

He ground his teeth. “I am two minutes late.”

“Yeah, well, at least I can track Ubers.”

“You can track me, too,” he pointed out. He’d read in one of the copious parenting books he’d devoured that if you wanted to be able to trace your child’s phones, you should offer a reciprocal right. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with that. Being a parent was different to being a child. He paid the bills, so surely he had some increased rights?

But he didn’t particularly care if she wanted to know where he was and what he was doing, so he’d left it.

“I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

He let the insult slide. “How was your day?”

She made a grunting noise.

“School good?”

She looked out the window.

“What homework do you have tonight?”

“Why? Are you going to help me with it?”

He compressed his lips. Her resentment of him had gone on long enough. “Do you need help?”

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