Inter-Office Relations

“Do you want to have sex in Conference Room B?”

Tim Harding jerked his head up from the cost analysis on his computer screen. Jeannie Price was leaning on the partition between their desks, her dark eyes fixed on his face. He took a moment to admire them as he pondered her words.

“Is this a hypothetical question?” he asked finally. “Because—”

“It’s not a hypothetical question. It’s an invitation.”

Her words slammed straight to his cock. Was she joking? Had she guessed that she was the star of his late-night fantasies? He’d even pictured taking her in the office—okay, he’d imagined the boardroom, but he was flexible.

He swallowed, hard, his cock twitching. She’d been very flexible when he imagined her on his balcony. And in his shower. And…

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’m going to be working in Conference Room B for the next half hour. You think about it, and if you decide to join me…” She shrugged, and her long brown hair slid forward, drawing his eyes to her breasts. In his dreams, her hair flowed over her naked breasts, her nipples peeking through the locks, and when he drew her down over him, it would swing forward, surrounding them like a silken tent…

She straightened, gathered up her laptop and notepad, and handed him an inter-office envelope.

“This may help you make up your mind.”

He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips and the way her dress slid across her ass making him shift uncomfortably. After a whole year of working with her, he was used to being in a constant state of arousal, but that didn’t make it any easier.

She disappeared into the conference room, and he sat back in his chair. Was she serious? Or was he going to walk in there and find half the office waiting, ready to point and laugh? He shuddered at the thought. No, Jeannie wasn’t like that. That was actually part of the problem. If she wasn’t so nice, and friendly, and incredibly fun to be with, he probably could have overcome the sexual thing by now.

Yeah. Right.

He looked at the envelope in his hand. Help him make up his mind?

He ripped it open.

The first thing to fall out was a strip of condoms. A whole strip? He could work with that.

The second was a piece of fabric. Frowning, he picked it up, then dropped it when he realized what it was.

Panties.

He stood up so fast his chair slammed into the partition behind him.

He didn’t care.

Condoms in one hand, panties in the other, he was already halfway to Conference Room B.