Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

I glance around to see if anyone else is hearing our conversation, then look back at her with narrowed eyes. “Yes, really close. Why?”

She clears her throat. “Well if it were me, I’d ask to use Mr. Konrad’s office, to make a phone call or something like that.” Now she scans the room and lowers her voice, leaning in toward me. “Then I’d lock his door, close the blinds, and take a picture of myself to send to him.” She winks. “You know … one that says come hither .”

My eyes widen. I’m not sure whether I should be offended by her unprofessional behavior, or grateful for what really does seem to be a brilliant idea.

She sits up straight again and taps at her keyboard. “But that’s just what I would do.”

My body remains a statue, maybe for a minute maybe for five, I’m not sure. Finally I suck in a breath of courage.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

She smiles. “Samantha.”

I offer my hand and she accepts with a dainty shake.

“Well, Samantha, I was wondering if it might be okay if I used Mr. Konrad’s office to make a private call?”

She stands and smirks. “You got it. Follow me.”

After securing the lock and closing all the blinds to the hall windows, I look around his office. There are two brown leather wingback chairs, a mahogany desk, his chair, and a few file cabinets. I walk to the large window overlooking the city. It’s an incredible view of Portland, including the Willamette River. The building across the street has tinted windows so it’s just a random guess as to whether or not someone can see in here. I’ll risk it.

Oliver is a tidy guy so it doesn’t take much to clear a spot on his desk. I slip out of my jeans and sweater then position myself on my side with my head resting on one arm while I hold out my phone with the other and take a few shots. They’re not too bad, wish it could be from a little farther back but I think asking Samantha to take it for me might be crossing some line, even if my intuition is that she’d do it.

I pick out the best shot—cleavage, thong, my tongue wetting my upper lip, and just enough of his desk that he will know it’s his desk. Then I send off a text.

Me: Hey, babe. What’s up?

Oliver: Grabbing a late lunch. Just got done with a meeting. What are you doing?

I send the picture with a message: Not much. Just waiting for my attorney to get back to his office.

Oliver: WTF!!!!!!

I should just be nice and wait for him to get here, but what fun is that?

Me: It’s chilly in here. My nipples are so hard. Maybe I’ll just rub them.

I wait a few minutes.

Me: I’ve never had sex on a desk. Do you think I should lie down flat with my legs spread or bend over the edge with my ass in the air?

It’s only been a few minutes, but I hear his voice outside the door.

“Are Brice and Mitchell gone for the day?”

“Yes, Mr. Konrad.”

“Then you can leave early, Samantha.”

“Are you sure?”

I giggle, knowing she’s just messing with him.

“Positive. Have a good holiday.”

“You too, Mr. Konrad.”

The doorknob jiggles then I hear his key slide in the lock.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Konrad.” I greet him with my sexiest voice.

He smirks while his eyes peruse my nearly-naked body sprawled out on his desk. Oliver in a suit is a spontaneous orgasm. Oh. My. God! He moves toward me like he’s on the prowl. I swallow hard. Move over leather work boots, you’ve forever been replaced with this image. There is nothing sexier than a guy loosening his tie with a predatory look in his eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, Miss Graham. I wasn’t aware you were added to my schedule.” He removes his jacket, tie, and shirt with calculated patience. He’s teasing me … tempting me, and he damn well knows it. “But I’m glad you waited and now that I’m here …” He tugs my legs and brings me to standing. Tracing a finger over the swell of my breasts he smirks again then works the belt and zipper of his pants. “… We should start with a debriefing .”

I look up at him, my body tingling, heart pounding. He rests his hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the desk. Placing his hand flat on my back, he nudges me forward until I’m bent over his desk, resting on my elbows.

I hear the clink of his belt buckle as his pants fall to the floor. I squirm as he pulls down my panties. Looking over my shoulder at him, I grin, but his face is stone.

He steps his leg between mine, forcing me to widen my stance. I tense as his right hand touches the bare skin of my ass.

He rubs small circles. “Would you say you’ve been naughty or nice this year, Miss Graham?”

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until my answer comes out as a timid squeak. “Nice.”

Smack!

“Shit!” I yell as my mind races to catch up. Holy crap! He just spanked me! It was hard but not painful, and my reaction was from the shock of it, not the feeling.

“Now see…” he rubs the same area he just hit “…I disagree. Looking back, I recall several incidents which landed you on the naughty list.”

“Oli …”

“Now, now …” I close my eyes as I feel his lips on my back. “In the spirit of the holiday, I’m still going to grant you your wish.”

“What’s tha—ahhhh!”

He slams into me then stills. “Me,” he whispers in my ear.

And then it begins—the slapping of our skin, labored breaths and desperate moans, the squeak of the desk, and eventually my loud scream of ecstasy.

“I can’t believe you spanked me,” I mumble against Oliver’s lips between kisses as we ride the elevator up to his hotel room.

“I can’t believe you liked it so much.”

“What?” I shove his chest as he chuckles.

He shrugs. “You did. I watched your face while I did it and after the initial five seconds of shock, I saw the corners of your sexy little lips turn up into a smile .”

“It was a grimace, you idiot! The corners of a person’s lips curl up when they grimace too, not just when they smile. Jeez, you’re a sadist.”

The elevator doors open and I stomp off with purpose leaving Oliver behind with my suitcase.

“Left,” Oliver says as I come to the T-intersection of the hall.

I turn left like I already knew that—although of course I didn’t.

“Back here,” he says with a chuckle as he slides his key into the door of a room I passed ten strides ago.

I stop and let out a sigh then turn and sulk back to the door Oli’s holding open for me.

“You liked it,” he whispers with a taunting edge to his words as I walk inside the room.

“Shut up! I did not.”

He scoops me up eliciting a squeal then tosses me on the bed and straddles my body. “So what brings you to the West Coast, Ms. Graham?”

We had sex on his desk, got dressed, cuddled in his chair, had sex in his chair, got dressed, then made out like teenagers on the drive to the hotel. What we haven’t done is talk about … anything.

“Sex. I flew in for sex.” I look at the imaginary watch on my wrist. “I fly back out in an hour.”

“Funny girl, huh?” He pins my hands above my head and kisses me.

“God … I’ve missed you.” There, I’ve said it. I miss him, all the time—every hour, every minute, every second. Now how do I tell him to make things right and come home to me?

“Well, not anymore. You stole my surprise by showing up here.” He wiggles his brows. “ Not complaining. I’m coming home the day before the wedding … for good.”