"I know so," I reply, my eyes locked on hers. Our gaze intensifies, and I'm not sure what's going to happen next. The room feels at least ten degrees hotter.
"Are you flirting with me?" she asks. It's a loaded question. I can tell by the smile on her face.
"If I were flirting with you," I say, "I would reach into my desk over there, pull out the bottle of rare top-shelf bourbon that I've hidden, buried underneath a stack of files—a bottle that I've been saving for a woman like you—and I would drizzle it down your chest."
"What else would you do?" she asks, her eyes smoldering with desire. She's breathing heavier now. The air around us is thick with longing.
"If I were actually flirting, I'd reach down and place my lips and tongue on your breasts, licking the bourbon off of your bare nipples before traveling down the rest of your body."
Her lips part into a smile. "I like a man with a plan," she says, ginning. She's raking her nails through my hair and when they touch my scalp, an electric current runs down my spine. "That's a map I can follow."
I lean in, bringing my lips an inch from her ear and whisper, "What I'd like to do to you right now is anything but professional. And given my position in the company, I'm not sure that's wise."
She doesn't move; her one hand is still on my chest. There's an electric current binding us together, and it's palpable. It's like someone has flipped a switch and it's an unbreakable circuit. I almost detect a moan from her lips, but it's so soft that I can't be certain.
I lean in again, my breath on her neck, and I move my mouth down to her exposed shoulders, dragging my lips across her bare skin. This time her moan is audible and loaded with an insatiable craving.
As soon as my breath hits her neck, and my mouth touches her shoulder, her lips part. I want to grab her hair and bring her mouth to mine.
Instead, I slide my right hand around to the small of her lower back. She doesn't resist my touch. I feel her moving in closer, and I take that as my cue to move my hand from her back, even lower. I move below her waist now, and cup her ass cheek in my firm palm.
"Ethan Kane," she whispers. "I guess what they say about you is true."
"And what's that?" I ask.
"That you're larger than life," she says. "And you're hotter than a lightening rod."
"I'm seconds away from picking you up, placing you over one shoulder, and carrying you out of this place—caveman style—and show you exactly what kind of fucking rod I'm packing"
"Now, that wouldn't be very professional," she grins. I read her grin like a dare.
"I'm not done," I say. "And you know what I'd do next? I'd take you back to my place, bend you over, and run my lips all over the secret fucking corners of your body, head to toe. Where do you want my lips, Brittney?"
I watch as she looks up at me, her blue eyes flashing with desire and her cheeks growing a deeper shade of pink.
"But what about all of this?" she asks, pointing around my office. "I'm pretty sure we'd be violating all of those code of conduct papers I just signed."
"To hell with those papers. This is my fucking company."
She smiles. "I suppose that's true," she says.
My eyes have moved down from her face to the deep crevice between her breasts. It's taking everything in me to not reach down and grab them. To slide my hands under their warmth and take them into my mouth.
"Dinner. Tonight. I'll pick the place," I whisper into her ear. "All you have to do is say yes."
She looks up at me, and for a moment I don't know how she's going to answer, or what's going through her mind. Finally she grins.
"Okay then," she says. "My answer is yes."
I smile.
This is going to be an interesting night.
Brittney
I look out my apartment window and see a black limo pull up to the curb. The limo's windows are deeply tinted, so I can't see who's inside, but I know it's Ethan Kane.
He's right on time.