Page 26 of Trashy Foreplay

My perverted mind has her bent over my desk, legs spread, her palms flat on the surface as I wind her golden locks around my fist. With every desperate stroke of my hand, I imagine thrusting into the hot, wet glove of her body. And her voice? Jesus, her seductive voice is begging for more.

Harder, Cash.

In this fantasy that’s way too vivid, I bury myself to the hilt, my fingers gouging her hips, teeth scraping over the slope of her shoulder. The scene plays out in my head like a porno as I let the pressure bust me wide open. I groan, loud and unrestrained, as I spurt cum into the toilet water.

I’m so fucked, and I definitely shouldn’t have hired her. Butnothiring her was about as possible asnotthinking about her.

Every time the skies open and rain beats down on me.

Every time I grab a coffee and overhear someone order tea.

Every time a damn plane sounds overhead.

A quiet knock intrudes on this private and forbidden moment. I tilt my head toward the locked door, ragged breaths rushing from my mouth as I prop myself against the wall.

“Cash? Are you in there?” Monica never bangs on a door, or outright yells, or cries out when she comes. Not that she’s come for me in months.

“I’ll be right out.” I clean myself up then put my clothes back in order.

I bet Jules would cry my name. I have no doubt she’d writhe in my arms. Moan her pleasure into my mouth. Let me fuck her while holding her captive in my gaze. Forehead to forehead with the lights on. Eyes locked together in surrender, spilling all our secrets. Fingers grasping, clawing, then lacing together as we hold on for the ride. The feminine curve of her spine speaking the language of ecstasy.

I switch on the faucet, and the rushing sound of water brings me back to reality. Monica is tapping on the door again, her soft voice calling my name. After I finish washing my hands, I open the door. Those blue eyes used to seduce me with a single glance. Now they spit nothing but cold-hearted rejection.

“What is it?” I ask as I push past her. I take a seat behind my desk, sparing her an annoyed glance. “As you can see, I’ve got work to do.”

“Before you make your decision on a PA, I wanted to give my recommendation for Lydia Hirsch. She mentioned the interview went well. She’s highly qualified, Cash.”

Tilting my head, I narrow my eyes. “Is she a friend of yours?”

She works her jaw, hesitating. “Yes, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put our personal issues before business decisions. She’s a solid choice and deserves a chance.”

“Ms. Hirsch is certainly qualified, but she’s not a good fit for me. Besides,” I say, waving my hand. “I already filled the position.”

“That was fast. Who did you hire?”

“Does it matter?”

“Per the terms of the merger, you’re required to consult me on anything business-related.”

“Hiring a personal assistant hardly falls under that condition.” I sit back and cross my arms. “You want a rundown of the financial statements for last quarter? Details about the Oklahoma City project? I’ll have my new assistant send you those particulars, along with anything else you require.”

Her brows knit together. “You might be CEO, but I’m chairperson. This is a partnership.”

“Like our marriage is?”

Her silence speaks volumes.

“We’re sleeping in separate bedrooms, Monica. How about we do the same here at work? You can see yourself out of my office now.”

“You can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“Do you really want me to respond to that?” I ask, lifting a brow.

“Don’t bother.” She pivots on her heel and exits my office, letting the door shut with a bang. That’s the angriest I’ve seen her in a while.

I stare at the closed door for a few moments, the wheels in my head turning. During the past few months, I’ve slowly come to the realization that Monica never does anything without a reason, and if she wanted her friend working directly under me, there must be a reason why. I pull out my cell and dial my private investigator.

He answers on the fourth ring, and I get right to the point. “It’s Cash Montgomery. Have you found anything yet?” I ask, tapping my fingers on the desk.

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