Kathleen O'Reilly - Beyond Breathless

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.” Jamie swallowed and continued to nod, trying to listen, needing to listen, but instead little scraps of memory played in her head.

Andrew.

There was such uncontrolled heat, such—wickedness in their lovemaking. She felt a giggle rise in her throat. It was like a soap opera or something. Jamie had neat, orderly sex, not wild monkey sex.

Primly she crossed her legs tighter.

But that didn’t stop the tingles.

“Don’t let it happen again, McNamara.”

Guilty as charged.

Jamie looked up and met Walter’s paternal gaze. She was his protégée, his pet, and a morning mambo in a Hummer wasn’t going to do anything to advance her career. Hell, at thirty-two, she was well past the optimal dating age, well past the morning mambo age, too. No, her path was well-defined and well-trod. She wouldn’t disappoint. She placed her feet firmly on the floor and stood up, ramrod straight.

“It’s not going to happen again, sir.”

He gave one curt nod. “Knock him dead, McNamara.”

And with that, Jamie walked out, leaving all the tingles behind her.

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