After Hours

His pulse rate jumping off the charts, he walked toward the only doorway with light spilling out onto the gray carpet. His senses recorded everything with the kind of accuracy that told him he’d always remember the sound of his footsteps on the Berber underfoot, the scent of commercial carpet cleaner he stirred on his way, and the Monet “Water Lilies” print in the gold frame hanging just outside her door.

In the silent office, she would hear him approaching. He wondered how that affected her, knowing that her fantasy was about to come true. Because it would come true. He planned to make this the most memorable sex she’d ever had, so memorable that she’d want to keep him around…forever.

When he walked into the room, his focus narrowed to include only the woman leaning against the front of her desk, waiting for him. His fantasy woman.

Her breathing came in quick, shallow gasps, which made the front of her white blouse quiver. She’d unfastened enough pearl buttons that the white lace of her bra peeked from under the crisp linen. The blouse had long sleeves and French cuffs held snug with the same pearl buttons, and it was tucked neatly into the waistband of a navy skirt that stopped a couple of inches above her knees.

Nylons in a subtle navy tint covered her slender legs. She wore pointy-toed heels that looked expensive. He was facing a professional businesswoman who wanted him to create havoc with her dressed-for-success presentation. She wanted her skirt up around her waist and her panties down around her ankles.

The prospect nearly destroyed his composure, but he breathed deeply and overcame the urge to lunge forward and pin her to the desk. He took a step closer and caught her scent, the sweetness of orange blossoms mingled with the tang of arousal. His mouth watered.

“So you decided to risk it.” Her voice was husky.

“Yeah.” He looked into her blue eyes and felt as if he’d gazed into them as a lover many times before, even though he didn’t even know her name. But he’d find out her name. This was her office, and her name would be somewhere in it. Getting that information was important, considering he planned to take this beyond her proposed one-night stand.

He pretended to survey the office. “Nice space.” She was partial to rosewood, apparently, but he was glad to see that the desk was sturdy and not some spindly antique. He’d be needing the desk.

It was still covered with files and papers and maybe she wanted it that way. Maybe she wanted to have sex on top of all that paperwork. Her computer was out of the way on a trolley beside the desk, but the phone could get upset in the process of what he had in mind. No problem. She was getting a new phone tonight, anyway.

The wooden mini-blinds covering the window behind her desk were closed tight, so she wasn’t into exhibitionism. At least not this time around. Otherwise the office contained a wooden lateral file, a bookcase filled with serious-looking law books, a credenza with a vase of silk flowers and some framed photos. Two armchairs that might have been in front of her desk at one time were now up against the wall. She’d given him room to maneuver. Nice.

He noticed a couple of bare picture hooks and realized that if she’d had diplomas hanging there, she’d taken them down before he arrived. And if she’d had a nameplate on her desk, that was in a drawer now, too. She didn’t want him to know who she was.

But he would find out. A woman eager for a long-awaited orgasm could be coaxed into saying all kinds of things. He would learn all he needed to learn.

So the diplomas were gone, but an impressionistic watercolor hung above the chairs. Its undulating curves and pink tones might look like nothing to the casual observer, but Shane decided the picture was definitely about sex.

“Do you like that?” she asked softly.

He decided to test her. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“The title is ‘Shades of Pink.’ I bought it at an art fair. I suppose you can interpret it any way you want to.”

“And how do you interpret it?”

She glanced at him. “I’ve…always thought it looked like a depiction of…an orgasm.” She swallowed. “I’ve never told anyone that,” she added quickly. “And it probably isn’t at all, but I—”

“You hung it on the wall because you liked that interpretation.” It wasn’t a question.

“I guess so. Yes.”

He took another step toward her. “That’s what tonight is all about, being sexually honest, maybe for the first time in our lives.”

Her breathing quickened. “Yes.”

“I’ll start. I’ve never been so turned on by a woman, or by the thought of having sex. I want to take you right now. I want to shove your skirt to your waist, unzip my jeans and brace you against that desk. I want to rip apart whatever lacy underwear is between us and shove deep.”

She gasped.

“Am I shocking you?”

“No.” She struggled for breath. “No. That’s…that’s what I want, too.”

He wondered just how much of a risk taker she was. “You’d be a damned fool to let me, with no protection in sight.”

Slowly she stretched her hand toward him, her fingers closed. When she opened them, a square packet lay in her palm.

He gazed at the condom and then looked into her eyes.

Her voice vibrated, almost like a cat’s purr. “Be my guest.”

Desire gusted through him with enough force to leave him shaking. He waited for the tremors to pass. Then he cupped her soft hand in his and lifted it, condom and all, to his lips.

First he kissed the tip of each manicured finger. Now it was her turn to quiver. Next he sucked gently on the end of her fingers, all the while watching her eyes.

Her lashes fluttered closed, and her breathing grew more ragged. “I thought…you wanted to…take me quickly.”

“I do.” He closed her damp fingers over the condom. “But I plan to take you slowly.” He unfastened the pearl button at her cuff and edged the white linen to her elbow. Then he dropped kisses on the faint blue vein at her pulse. “Fast and hard is good, but slow and seductive is better. I’ll let you hold the condom until I’m ready for it.”

Her lashes lifted to reveal blue eyes stormy with passion. “What if…I’m ready now?”

“If you think you’re ready now…” He released her hand and reached for her other one. “Just think how ready you’ll be in a little while.”

Reaction flared in her eyes.

“Good.” He smiled as he unfastened the second cuff. “Now you’re imagining the possibilities.” If he had only one chance to make an impression, he would make it a beauty.

Maintaining some distance between them, he started undoing the buttons down the front of her blouse. “Have you ever been naked in this office?”

She drew in a breath. “No.”

“Ever had sex here?” He pulled the unbuttoned blouse from the waist of her skirt and opened it to reveal the sweetest breasts ever molded by lace and underwire.

“No.”

So lawyer-boy hadn’t tapped into this particular fantasy. How could she possibly think the guy currently in Switzerland was Mr. Right? “Tonight I want both.” He slipped the blouse off her shoulders and tossed it over the papers piled on her desk. “There’s something about being naked in a place where people usually wear business suits.”

Her voice curled around him like smoke. “It seems unreal that I’ll be back to work as usual here tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.” He unfastened the front hook of her bra. “I want you to think about this all day tomorrow.”

She shivered. “I will.”

He guided the bra straps down her arms. He’d meant to throw the bra on top of her blouse, but he became mesmerized by the sight of her breasts and the bra dropped from his fingers to the floor.

She’d spent time in the sun this summer. Golden skin gave way to cream where the bikini had barely covered her rosy nipples. Their taut promise invited the brush of his fingers. Somehow he found the strength to resist.

“Don’t you…want to touch me?”