"I knew he was due to return to work later in the week. I organized a blank slate for you. It's up to you to impress him. "
"I'll give it my best shot."
"He'll never know you and I met."
"Good." She glanced around the suite. "How was your day? You're able to work here?"
"Yes. But I know what I'd rather be doing."
Her attention was back on him in a flash.
That pleased him. "It's been hard... trying to keep my mind on the job, with you so near."
"The problem has been mutual, I assure you." Her luscious lips lifted at the corner. "I thought about you a lot… and other agents."
She was teasing, but a doubt ticked away in his mind, making him fiercely possessive. He quelled the urge to snatch her into his arms. "You were thinking about agents?"
"Mostly you." Her gaze raked over him.
He enjoyed the way she was standing back, maintaining a distance, awaiting instructions, or judging his mood. "You were aroused?"
Her lips parted. She nodded.
Was she wondering what the implications of her admission would be? It seemed so. It made his blood pump harder, knowing she was trying to anticipate his next move. "Are you aroused now?"
"Yes. Even more so, being with you."
"Are you wet?" He relished her startled expression.
"Maybe." She glanced down and away.
Maybe? Naughty girl. "I think you need to prove it one way or the other." He nodded at the hem of her skirt. "Lift your skirt."
Her gaze rose to his. "Here?"
"Does it bother you, if someone sees you showing yourself to me?" The curtains were open.
Glancing past him at the large windows beyond, she shook her head.
"Good. Because that's what I want you to do,"
Her lips pursed a moment, as if she contemplated resisting.
He cocked his head, challenging her.
She shifted. Easing her hip away from the desk she put her hands on the front of her skirt and slowly, carefully, slid it up, easing the tight fabric up the length of her thighs.
When her stocking tops were unveiled – the black lace clasped around the soft skin of her thighs – his palms itched to echo that enclosure, to grasp her thighs with his hands while he pulled her legs apart to get at her.
Then she lifted the skirt a little higher, and he saw the matching panties that clung to the mound of her pussy. The dark flash between the white V of her upper thighs was a dramatic contrast, highlighting the paleness of her skin.
She stared at him, awaiting instruction. How precious that was.
He gestured at her panties. "Take them off."
A flush had appeared on her cheeks. Her gaze flitted to the windows beyond him, but she didn't hesitate more than a moment. She was aware of potential onlookers, but it didn't stop her. He liked that. Silently, he imagined showing her off more publicly, at his favored London BDSM club, and power flooded through him in response to the images opening up in his mind. What a beautiful pet she would make, a treasured pet. Would she enjoy being on a lead?
Shifting her skirt higher still – until it rested on her hipbones – she put her thumbs inside the band on her panties and pulled them down. They dropped around her ankles. She quickly straightened up. Her skirt dropped but it was tight fitting and didn't fall all the way back into place. The perfect curve of her bared pussy was still exposed. The sight of it made his mouth water.