This is War (Checkmate Duet 1)

I’m tempted, fuck, I really am. But Blake will murder me if I don’t get this shit done.

“Not today, Alyssa,” I say, groaning at my own words. “I’ll make it up to you,” I promise, flashing a wink at her.

“Well…” She rounds the desk, toward me. I spin in my chair and catch her between my legs. “That doesn’t mean I can’t give you a little motivation…” She kneels down in her tight skirt and runs a finger along my thigh. “You won’t even know I’m here.” She winks, and I know she’s so full of shit, but I’m at a loss for words the moment she wraps her hand around me through my dress pants. She slides her knees along the floor, gliding my chair back toward my desk. She kneels lower, hiding herself under the desk and begins pulling at my belt and zipper.

“Alyssa…” I warn, grabbing her elbow. “We can’t…”

“Shh,” she hisses. “Get to work, Mr. King.” I hear the amusement in her tone, and I can no longer deny that mouth of hers.

I try to straighten in my chair and finish reading the reports, but it’s useless. There’s absolutely no way I can concentrate on anything other than the wetness of her mouth and how it feels wrapped around my dick. The moment she puts a hand around me and begins stroking, the room begins to blur.

“Jesus, Alyssa…” I try to even my breathing. “I can’t focus.”

She removes her mouth, but continues moving her hand up and down. “What do you need help with, baby? Maybe I can talk you through it.” Talk me through it? Is she fucking kidding?

“I don’t think so…” I groan, her tongue gliding along the tip and teasing every single nerve in my body. “Fuck.”

I ball my hands into fists, trying to resist the urge to curl my fingers in her hair and pull her head back so she looks up at me when I come in her hot little mouth. Right as I’m on the edge of filling her throat, my phone beeps with Betty on the intercom.

“You have a visitor, Travis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Uh…” I exhale, trying to catch my breath. “Not now. I’m busy.”

“It’s your lunch, asshole.” I hear Viola’s voice on the other end. Fuck, this can’t be good.

“I’ll be right there,” I say, pulling away from Alyssa.

“What are you doing?” she whines, licking her lips.

“You need to leave.”

“Seriously?” She stands, adjusting her skirt and top. “I cut out early on a budget meeting to come see you and you kick me out before I’m even done?” She cocks a brow, and I know she’s pissed.

I begin pushing her out the door. “Never come in here again. We meet somewhere else,” I remind her of the rules. “You’ll get me fired.”

She tilts her head, rubbing a hand on my cheek. “Maybe this’ll teach you to stand me up.” She winks, grabbing the door handle and letting herself out.

I sigh in relief, buttoning my suit jacket. I’m about to go meet Viola at the receptionist’s desk, when I see her coming this way.

Oh, fucking hell.

“What part of ‘I’ll be right there’ got lost in translation?” I ask, knowing it’ll piss her off even more.

“Don’t start with me. I brought you your damn lunch.” She throws a brown bag at me.

“Would it kill you to be polite?” I tease, knowing asking Drew would lead to Viola at my office again.

Her eyes graze down my body and land on my groin. “Would it kill you to stop screwing every bimbo you come across?”

I glance down and see the tent I’m sporting.

“It would actually.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back toward reception. “I may or may not have added a little special ingredient in your sandwich. Enjoy the extra saliva,” she calls back over her shoulder.

I smirk. “I always do!”

She flips me the bird and turns for the elevators.

I laugh and shake my head. Fighting with Viola is the best foreplay I’ve had in a long time.

Once I’m seated back at my desk, I open up the brown bag and grab the sandwich out of the Ziploc bag. It’s lumpy, and I’m even more hesitant to eat it.

What the hell?

I peel back one side of the sandwich and see she’s crushed up hot Cheetos on top of peanut butter, pickles, and sunflower seeds. It looks just as gross as it sounds.

But fuck it, I’m starving so I take a bite anyway.

Blake storms in promptly at four p.m. and asks if I have everything finished. Somehow I just managed to complete the review minutes before he came in, so I proudly hand it over to him.

“All done, sir,” I say, giving him a cocky salute.

“Really?” He looks impressed, but I can tell by the way his jaw ticks that he was banking on me failing.