Casual Affair

Shit.

He took a mental step back.

He didn’t want to admit it, but she had made some good points that afternoon. He’d never had anyone address his control issues in such a direct way before, but the fact that she had, had made him want to listen. He didn’t want her to dislike anything about him.

“And as for the window display,” she continued, “I’m working on something for it, so don’t worry. I know that’s difficult for you, but it will be ready by launch day and it will look amazing. I promise you.” Her eyes didn’t stray from his. “You’ve told us we’ve been doing a good job, Zane. Please have faith that we will continue to do a good job.”

She was right. He was being an arsehole.

He shot a hand through his hair. “You’re right.”

Her head reared back as though he had slapped her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re right,” he repeated, though each word took monumental effort. “I need to back off and let you do your job. I apologize for being difficult.”

She still looked shell-shocked. After a few seconds, she murmured, “Wow.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

She remained silent as they regarded each other assessingly.

This was a big moment for them. Usually when they fought about something at the store, they would bicker back and forth until one or both of them lost their voice—or their cool. This apologizing thing was new territory.

He felt they were taking a new step in their relationship.

It turned him on. Big time.

Which was a bit weird, but there it was.

He stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and hauled her to the back of the store. She squealed in surprise but didn’t protest as he dragged her through the stockroom, passing shelves and shelves of product. He knew all the shipments had been delivered, so there shouldn’t be anyone lurking around back there. He also knew there was a small maintenance closet in the back corner, near the loading dock.

He whipped the door to that closet open and shoved her inside.

He flipped the light switch, bathing the room in a soft orange glow, and pulled the door shut behind him.

When she turned to face him, her face was already veiled in a shroud of lust. Dilated pupils. Heavy-lidded eyes. Wet, parted lips. It was a mirror image of his own state. Not to mention the fact that his dick was tenting his trousers something terrible.

“I need to fuck you. Right now.”

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Don’t you think that’s a little risky, with everyone out there? What if they catch us?” She didn’t sound too worried, despite her words.

“I don’t give a shit,” he snapped. “They have a problem, they can take it up with my boss.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

Enough talking. “Turn around,” he demanded.

She didn’t move. Just stared at him with challenging eyes.

“Bea…” He took a measured step toward her, then another. “Turn. The fuck. Around. Now.”

She turned and braced her hands on the shelf in front of her, sticking her arse out toward him. He reached forward and lifted her loose blouse, admiring the way her jeans clung to every inch of her figure. He slid his arms around her to pull her back against him, his hands skimming over her thighs, her covered center, before traveling back up to palm her breasts.

“Christ, I can’t keep my hands off you,” he said against her neck.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You want me to fuck you right here? In this closet, against this shelf, with my entire staff only feet away?”

“Dammit, yes. Now. Fuck me now, Zane.”

“That southern drawl of yours is going to kill me,” he growled. “That accent and those filthy words…it’s a dangerous combination.”

She purred. “Ditto, mate.”

Her breathy pants filled the air as he took both of her breasts in his hands.

“That feel good, luv?”

“Yes. So good.”

His breathing was hot and heavy, his body urgent as he began to take what he wanted from her. Needing more friction, he ground his stiff cock against her, fucking it between her arse cheeks and right where he was about to put it after he ripped those jeans down her thighs.