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EVIE

With the holidays behind us, it felt like time sped up. Almost before I could blink, it was the end of January, my last day working for Sam at the law firm.

My down payment was in on the storefront, that contractor Charlie was hard at work on the renovations, and it was time for me to commit full-time to getting the new Evangeline’s up and running.

I sighed and cast one final look around the Vázquez and Lowry office. Everything was as good as new, without a speck of fire damage in sight. Even that damned elevator was back up and running.

It was almost six; everyone had cleared out about an hour ago, but I stood behind my desk, peering at the pile of files I’d recently finished getting in order for Sam’s new secretary, reliving each memory since my first day.

Darkness surrounded me as I switched off the tiny black lamp on my desk.

Pacing around my former workstation, I slipped into Sam’s office. He immediately looked up from his pile of paperwork with a welcoming grin.

He’d already drawn the tall gray curtains shut behind him, so the only light streamed from the silver lamp hovering above his desk.

“You’re finally heading out, huh?” he asked, rising from his office chair and cruising around the table.

“Yep,” I said, still struggling with the bittersweet moment. “I guess I am.”

He leaned against the edge of his desk and yanked me into his embrace by my waist.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered, gazing into my eyes.

“It’s not goodbye,” I countered. “I’ll see you at home later.” I didn’t know whose feelings I was trying to ease more—his or mine.

He smiled. “I know.” He held up his phone. “You’ll never guess who texted me today.”

“Carla?” I asked, trying not to let my voice go flat.

“Oh. Good guess,” he said, sounding surprised.

“She’s texted you practically every day since Christmas,” I pointed out. “I know she’s trying to work on herself, but doesn’t she have other friends to talk to?”

“She’s going through a tough time,” he defended. “Anyway, today’s big news is that John won’t contest the divorce, so she should be free of him as soon as the paperwork’s all signed.”

“Good for her,” I said. That much, I meant sincerely. Nobody should be stuck in a loveless marriage with someone as boorish as John. And I knew firsthand just how long and drawn-out a contested divorce could get.

It was just…Carla didn’t have the best sense of boundaries. What she wanted, she tried to take. Lately, it felt like what she wanted was a second chance with Sam.

I shook my head, trying to clear away the suspicions. Maybe I didn’t fully trust Carla, but I trusted Sam. I shouldn’t let jealousy get in the way of what I had planned for my last night as Samuel Vázquez’s secretary.

I grabbed my own cell phone and held it up, swiping over to the camera app before leaning it against a stack of books on the small counter beside his desk. Then I hit record and walked around the desk toward Sam.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

Standing a few feet in front of him, I slipped my charcoal jacket from my shoulders, sending it plummeting to the thin, deep blue carpet to gather around my heels.

The confusion painting Sam’s face only turned me on that much more. I started working at the tiny buttons on my dark-purple blouse.

“Take off your jacket,” I ordered.

He did as I instructed, but asked, “What’s, uh… what’s going on here, Evie?”

I smirked. “What’s it look like?”

As my last button fell loose, I untucked the thin fabric of my shirt from the hem of my pencil skirt and dropped the blouse, allowing it to join my coat.

Sam gawked at my black, transparent mesh bra. It was obvious by the growing tent in his slacks that he was enjoying what he was seeing.

“So, why the phone?” he asked, nodding at it a few feet away.

I smirked and cruised back into his arms. The warmth of his palms trailing my back was enough to soak my panties with the hope of my fantasy becoming a reality.

I unzipped the back of my pencil skirt and slowly shimmied my hips out. As it dropped around my ankles, Sam’s hands drifted lower down my body, only to find a paper-thin black strap around my hips and nothing covering my ass.

He groaned, pushing his fingertips under the back of my thong.

“Because I wanna remember every dirty”—whispering the next word across his lips only drove him further into agony—“~Filthy~”—I massaged the thick hard-on in his pants—“thing you do to me while you bend me over your desk and fuck me.”

Sam grabbed my face in his palms, cramming his mouth against my own. His tongue invaded the space between my lips, caressing mine with the utmost assertiveness.

He refused to let up on our make-out session even as I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. When I pulled my mouth away, Sam let out a groan as if it caused him physical pain to lose contact with my lips. But I was sure he wouldn’t be complaining in a second.

I sank to my knees and tugged on his navy slacks. It took me a moment because he was still leaning against the edge of his desk, but ultimately, they tumbled from his thighs, releasing his erection.

A clear bead of lust was already developing on his tanned tip. I stared at that droplet, feeling an intense ache between my thighs.

My fingers curled around the base of his hefty shaft, and though he was as hard as steel, he glided through my palm like silk with each slow stroke.

Sam fisted a handful of my hair at the roots like a silent command: ~don’t make me wait a minute more.~

Far be it from me to deny the man.

My lips enveloped the head of his cock, savoring every ounce of pre-cum along with the faintest salt of his skin. The sharp twinge of his fingers tightening at my scalp demanded more, so I took in as much as I could.

I sucked his cock with the slowest devotion, doing my best to ignore my own boiling sexual frustration. I wanted to take my time with him tonight. At this point, I wasn’t sure who I was pleasing more.

“Damn, angel,” he muttered.

After a few more luxurious sucks, I couldn’t resist the urge to shove my panties aside and touch myself. With my free hand, I shifted a couple of fingers between my thighs, relieving the throb.

Each slow, circular motion of my fingertips against my swelling folds pulled out tiny moans from my full mouth, and I was sure Sam could feel the vibrations through his cock.

Within a couple of minutes, my legs grew weak, and my pussy was melting into a needy little mess.

“Don’t you dare cum now,” Sam snarled as my whimpers grew louder.

Sexual greed overwhelmed me, and my fingers sped up, calling for my first orgasm of the night. I couldn’t help it. My body was begging for a release, and having Sam in my mouth was only amplifying it.

A string of orgasmic cries poured from my lips in time with each quake of my clit. Sam cupped my face in his hands, preventing me from pulling off his dick as I came. I assumed he was punishing me for disobeying him, but he rapidly proved me wrong.

Holding my face steady, he started to fuck my mouth in slow, deep thrusts. After just a few minutes, his cock started to pulse and coat my mouth in liquid iron. My eyes watered, and I fought the tickle in the back of my throat as the heat trickled down.

After Sam finished, his arousal finally slipped from my lips, allowing me to swallow. Without the distraction of sex, I started to notice the concrete under the thin carpet, wreaking havoc on my kneecaps.

I winced as I climbed from the floor, and he tugged me to my feet, still dressed in my Louboutins. I needed to enjoy these shoes as much as I could before the pregnancy left my ankles too swollen to fit them.

I leaned into Sam’s arms yet again and began loosening his baby-blue tie. “Don’t you dare, huh?” I sneered.

“I only said that because I knew watching you get off was gonna make me cum too.”

“Mhm,” I hummed in ridicule. “You gonna be able to go again?”

Sam’s eyes shifted into something I hadn’t seen since the night I met him—a diabolical determination, a wild side that should worry me, but instead I loved getting to witness it.

He unhooked the back of my bra, letting it drop to the floor between us. The chill of the office hit my bare tits, calling goosebumps to my exposed flesh.

Removing his necktie the rest of the way, he wrenched one of my wrists toward him and fastened it with a knot.

“What’re you doing?” I asked.

He strolled around his desk, still rock-solid.

Grabbing the other end of the satin around my arm, he drew me in and bent me over his desk. After looping the tie around the handle of his nearest drawer, he bound my free wrist, completely incapacitating me.

Once I was bound and helpless, he disappeared behind me. I shivered, powerless and leaning over in nothing but a measly thong. Though I couldn’t see Sam anymore, I could sense his gaze ravaging me for all I was worth.

His white button-down suddenly plopped on the floor beside me, and that’s when the torment genuinely began…I knew Sam must be naked now, and I couldn’t even feast my eyes on him.

The warmth of his proud cock abruptly pressed against my backside, and I let out a pleased whine as his toasty palm drifted up between my shoulder blades.

His guttural tone resonated between us. “Are you ready for me, angel?”

~Honestly, I’ve never been more ready.~