She was a gorgeous woman working at the Seymour Group, a big media company.
She cared more about her makeup than her meetings with bosses. Even though she followed orders, she dreamed big about moving up in her career, aiming to be more than just a local TV anchor.
Her main goal was to have her own show and prove herself. One day, she got stuck in an elevator with the boss of the Seymour Group. She saw this as a chance to impress him. To her surprise, the boss, who seemed arrogant at first, knew her already.
His playful talk made her wonder if he was just killing time or trying to get closer to her. Little did she know, this meeting would change her life. They not only worked together but also formed a deeper connection that went beyond work.
When I can’t manage to hold myself up any longer—I really need to work on strengthening my core—I pull my hand from my clit and set it down on the desk to brace myself. I’m so close to my second orgasm anyway, and don’t need the extra stimulation. Besides, right now I’d rather be focused…
I feel my eyes widen. I wouldn’t put murder past the Seymours. But then I realize that Hadrian’s suppressing a laugh. “asshole.” Then I allow a brief smile of my own. “I don’t think it’s the best policy to use such vile words when talking about your new boss.” His tone says he understands the…
He glances down at our connected knees then drags his gaze up my body, lingering on my l*ps before landing on my eyes. “I don’t believe in telling people what they want to hear.” I let out a short laugh. “Ever?” “Never.” “What if what they want to hear is the truth? Do you lie…
He waits until I put the key in the lock, and then takes a step, presumably to leave. Instead, his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, preventing me from turning the knob. My eyes go down to where he’s grasping me—half expecting to see actual sparks in the air—then raise to meet his. “Give…
And one of the benefits of an open marriage is that I can f**k around with Hadrian and can still come home and f**k Elvis without damaging our relationship. But it’s not me. It’s never been me. “I can’t.” I speak before he makes the move I know he’s about to make. “Not while this…
“Not your office,” he says with a grin. “You negotiated your own office. You can request whatever furniture you want there.” I fake pout. Or half fake a pout. I really am thrilled about my own space, but I’ve been told it’s more dressing room than workroom, and some of my favorite career moments have…
I pick up where I left off without skipping a beat. “That’s why she was yelling at you in the driveway. You told her that day, didn’t you? I didn’t want this.” “It doesn’t matter what you want.” “No, it does. Because I would never have agreed to do this”—I wave a fi**ger back and…
“f**k you.” “You wouldn’t let me, remember?” I’m barely listening to him. He’s toxic and pathetic. Another privileged white boy playing with real people like they’re toys. I can’t believe I fell for any of it. I can’t believe I told Elvis that I needed space for such a waste of a human. I reach…
“I will.” I totally intend to, and in fact, long after she’s left to find her seat in the theater, I’m planning what positions I’ll f**k her in when I glance up at the staircase that leads to the main doors and realize that Greta is not the cure I’m looking for. Realize that she’ll…
When André turns back to us, he focuses on Brystin. “Enjoy the show?” Unfortunately, I’m tapped on the shoulder just then by the hall’s security guard, but not before I catch Brystin’s scowl in my direction. “Theater’s locked up,” the guard informs me. The festivities outside the theater will continue for another hour at least,…