Page 74 of Spooked

“Not here. Tempting though it is with you draped over my desk like that, your first time is going to be in a bed, Meera.”

“So you’re going to fuck me upstairs?”

“No, I’m going to make love to you upstairs. There’s plenty of time for fucking later.”

But there wasn’t. If Meera hadn’t called me back by morning, this would be over. Because I’d have to go and find her.

Brax lowered me again, then slowly unbuttoned my shirt and spread it out on the desk like butterfly wings under my sweat-soaked back. Sex was a musky, damp affair, and I discovered I loved every moment of it. And I loved the man with me. He pulled down my bra cups so my breasts bulged over the top and pinched my nipples into hard peaks. Brax wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t exactly gentle either. A hint of pain…was more pleasurable than I’d ever thought it could be. No, that wasn’t a limit. Hard was followed by soft, his tongue again, and I felt the first stirrings of another orgasm. I was a dripping mess, but Brax didn’t seem to care.

“Come for me one more time, and then we’ll move this to the bedroom.”

“Make me.”

He flashed me a filthy grin. “Challenge accepted.”

This time, he slid a finger inside me, just one, and stroked a spot I didn’t even know existed. I detonated underneath him, and this time I didn’t moan his name. I screamed it.

“Shit! The finance department must have heard that.”

“Do you care?”

“Yes? They’ll realise what we’re doing in here.”

“Does that matter?”

“Well—”

“Do you think you’re going to be my dirty little secret? Because that’s not how this is going to work. I want everyone to know you’re mine and nobody else’s.”

“Uh…”

“Just in case you haven’t realised, this isn’t some sordid little affair with my secretary. I’m in love with you, Meera.”

Indi. My name is Indi.

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ll say it when you’re ready.” There was that confidence again. “Can you walk upstairs, or do I have to carry you?”

“I can walk.”

Barely.

In the elevator, I watched us in the mirrored wall, my shirt buttoned wonkily, my too-long bangs flopping over my eyes as my head rested on Brax’s shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered.

“I’m thinking that my life is a mess, but there’s nothing I’d change about being here today with you.”

That was the honest truth.

Brax’s bed was a huge metal four-poster, the head and foot a series of interlocking curves and rectangles that matched the Art Deco style of the building. The sheets were dark red, and in my culture, red was associated with Durga, goddess of strength and protection, a fierce warrior who embodied courage I could only dream of.

“Carissa has never slept in this bed,” he told me. “I remodelled last year.”

“Keep her name out of our bedroom.” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He took my hand in his and kissed my palm. “She’s gone.”

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