Unwrapped

She fumbled for one of her jingling earrings, fingers shaking. She’d just drank too much and was imagining this whole thing. “I—what?”

“You heard me.” Des gestured impatiently and something shimmery pink flashed in his hand. “Now.”

Okay, fine, she’d gone too far, but this was insane. She wasn’t five and Des wasn’t acting like himself. His blue-green eyes were wild in the moonlight coming through the blinds and his jaw clicked as he waited for her to move.

“What the hell is going on?” Cole sounded as bewildered as she felt.

“This is between me and my secretary, Warner.” Even in the shadowy darkness, the weight of Des’s stare burned her skin.

“Then why I am here?” Cole snapped.

“Because you’re the one who’s going to discipline her for touching herself in your chair.” Before she could pick her mouth up off the floor, Des stepped forward and wrapped his hand around her jaw, tilting her face up to his. His nostrils flared and she had the errant thought that he could smell her arousal, now trickling hotly onto her thighs. “You have the choice to leave now. If you do, this stops here. Otherwise go kneel where I told you.”

Her heartbeat reverberated in her ears. She couldn’t process what was happening, especially since she could still hear the animated voices and cheerful Christmas music just outside the door.

Out there, life was still normal. In here, nothing made sense.

“Des, you’re scaring her.” Cole laid a restraining hand on Des’s shoulder, which he promptly shook off. “Perhaps you misunderstood what you saw.”

“Did I?” Des asked quietly.

She wanted to lie so badly. To make all of this end. But part of her…didn’t. That part of her yearned to see what lurked behind door number two.

“No,” she whispered.

“You chose to do that in here, in Cole’s chair. You must’ve wanted to be caught. Was that your plan? For Cole to catch you?”

She averted her eyes to the floor and wished the thick carpet would just swallow her whole.

“Either leave or go kneel by his chair. It’s your choice, but you need to make it now, Wendy.” Her boss’s voice lashed against her flushed face like a whip. “We don’t have much time.”

“T-time for what?”

Cole snagged a handful of her hair, gently tipping her head back. “You heard the man. Either leave this office now or go kneel by my chair, love.”

“But my job—”

“This has nothing to do with that, and you know it.” Cole’s breath blew warmly over her temple and this time when she shivered, it wasn’t from fear. “Go.”

She went.

They walked around the desk, one on either side, and she cast her face down to keep from revealing the extent of her excitement. She hadn’t read every line in the employee manual, but she was pretty sure their behavior wasn’t following protocol.

Even so, she trusted them. They weren’t just her bosses, they were her friends. Somehow she’d unleashed this.

Des sat in the chair and spread his legs, drawing her gaze to the thick bulge at their apex. Even in the moonlight, his girth dried her throat. She wet her lips and startled at the needful sound he made.

“Yes. You’re going to use that tongue and those lips, you tease. But first, you’re going to take off your top for me.”

When she froze, Cole tugged up her shirt, making his own sound of approval as she willingly lifted her arms. She’d stopped thinking entirely. He set her top on his blotter and hooked his fingers under the straps of her bra, offering more praise while he drew them down her arms.

“Just push down the cups,” Des instructed.

She expected Cole to argue. Normally the two men shared a mutual balance of power, though technically Des owned a controlling interest of the business. But Cole didn’t hesitate. He flicked his fingers over her nipples and they peaked, seeking his caress. He stroked them without shame, first through the lacy cups then her bare flesh.

Both men made noises at the baring of her breasts, like animals circling bloody meat. “Pull those pretty tits up,” Des grated.

Cole tugged her breasts by her nipples, plumping them over the tight band of her bra. The swollen tips jutted outward, asking for their mouths. Begging for them.