Page 12 of Dating the Boss

The vibration stops, leaving me panting. “Hear what?”

She glances around my desk and then shrugs. “Are you still feeling sick?”

Last night, I’d given her some lame excuse about not feeling good. Thank God, too, because she had three guys standing around talking to her, and I did not want to be pulled into whatever that was possibly going to turn into.

I press my palm against my lower belly and frown. “Cramps.”

“Oh, poor thing. No wonder you disappeared for so long and then wanted to go home. I had no idea you started—” Margot leans forward and whispers “—your period.”

“Yeah, lucky me.”

She crosses her legs and wiggles her fingers toward my keyboard. “Go on, check your email. I want to line up our potential dates, and then we should coordinate so we can compare notes afterwards. You know, save ourselves some trouble in case one of them is a creep.”

“Miss Pierce.” Coulter’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. “Can you come in here?”

I press ctrl-alt-delete on my keyboard and lock my computer from Margot’s prying eyes, flashing her a small smile. “We’ll talk about this later. Duty calls.”

6

COULTER

My inner caveman roars to life with Margot’s words, and it takes everything within me not to march out of my office and tell her to get back to work.

Brooklyn walks in, stating loudly for Margot’s benefit more than mine, “Door open or closed, Mr. Manning?”

I grin, images of bending her over my desk making me hard in seconds. When I left the Overlook restaurant last night, I went straight to the toy store and found this butterfly gem that has an on/off switch with multiple programmed settings, and a rapid-fire button that gives five seconds of straight, low vibration. That was the part that sold me. The notion that I could send her a little wake-up every time I thought about her without getting her so worked up that she might actually release. I’m going to edge her all day long so that she’s sopping wet and begging for it by the time we get home tonight. “Closed.”

She holds my door and glances over back at Margot, her shoulders coming up in a little shrug. As soon as the door is closed, she spins around on me. “You can’t buzz me when someone is standing at my desk. While it’s quiet for a vibrator, it’s not that quiet.”

I push the button. Her hips jerk forward before she slaps a palm on my desk. “What can’t I do?”

“Coulter—” She gives me a warning look that in this situation I find adorable.

“I suggest you turn on music, if you’re worried about it.” I stand up and circle around my desk, pressing the full length of my body against her back. She leans into me and presses her ass against my cock, which throbs with need. I jerked off twice last night. Once with her on the phone as I first told her how to touch herself, demanding she tell me in detail what she likes, and then later when I took a shower—too worked up to fall asleep.

I slide my hand up her side and over her breast before wrapping my fingers around her neck. Holding her in place, I press my lips against her ear. “Why don’t you clear my calendar, and we’ll go to my place right now?”

She shivers. “We can’t. You have your quarterly board luncheon today and multiple meetings with shareholders this afternoon.”

“Dammit,” I growl and switch on the vibrator nestled against her clit to the first setting which vibrates continuously on low, her entire body shaking within seconds in my arms. I hold her steady, my fingers flexing against her throat as I nibble on her ear. “Should I let you come?”

Panting, she fists my slacks at my thigh. “Yes.”

I turn off the vibrator. “Not yet.”

Her entire body slumps forward as I let her go, and she braces her palms against my desk. Her ass is raised, and it would take nothing to hike up her skirt and slide my cock home between her slick folds. The thought has me tenting my slacks, which I do nothing to hide behind the closed doors.

“You’re being cruel.” Her eyes follow me, her gaze zeroing in on my crotch as I walk back around my desk and sit in my chair.

I clasp my hands together and steeple my forefingers, pressing them against my wicked smile. “Am I?”

She stands up, once again smoothing her skirt, and narrows her eyes. “Yes.”

“How many hours until dinner?” I ask casually enough, knowing I have full intentions of keeping her on edge all day.

Glancing at her watch, she rolls her eyes. “If it’s after your last meeting of the day, seven. And now you’re late for your ten o’clock.”

I nod and stand up, adjusting my cock before grabbing my portfolio. “Conference room B?”

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