My arm shoots out and grabs her, hauling her into my chest. “Oh,” she yelps, startled, but I swallow her shock whole as soon as my mouth covers her. “Tyler.” She half demands half moans around my kiss. “I can’t be late.”
I groan and rip myself away, scowling at her. “Then stop brandishing this.” I wave a deranged hand up and down her wet body. Her wet, naked body. “Arh,” I yell and stomp past her, heading for my wardrobe. My shirt buttons are fastened clumsily, my black suit pulled on roughly while I mutter under my breath, and my feet shoved into my socks and shoes.
“I have no clothes.” Lainey’s panicked voice hits me from behind, and I turn to find her bollock-naked in the doorway.
“For the love of God, Lainey.” I turn away. “Just put on what you had on last night.”
“It’s not appropriate for work, and it’s all creased.”
“Then I’ll drop you home on my way to the office.” I tug and pull at my tie, my Windsor knot refusing to form neatly.
“But then I’ll be so late.”
“Call Sal. Tell him you have a doctor’s appointment or something. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“I can’t,” she argues. “I’ve already taken a whole day off, and I haven’t even worked a month in the role.”
The reminder of when Lainey wasn’t in the office has me turning before I can tell my feet to stay put, and the curiosity I’ve misplaced in the past twelve hours is suddenly back with a vengeance. Lainey must see the questioning in my eyes because she withdraws, backing up and leaving my dressing room.
“You were avoiding me, weren’t you?”
“I’ll just wear my dress,” she says as she goes, leaving me with my hands idol on my deformed Windsor knot.
“DROP ME AROUND THE CORNER,” Lainey says, as she pulls her damp hair into a perfectly neat bun at her nape before lowering the sun visor to access the mirror. “Oh God, look at the state of me.” She starts brushing at her cheeks with blusher, pouting her lips.
I’m obviously not seeing what she’s seeing. She looks flawless. “You look like you’ve had an insanely amazing morning sex session with a hunk of a man,” I tease, pulling to a stop at the lights and looking at her.
She casts tired eyes onto my grinning face as she trails the stick of her gloss across her lips. “I’d hardly call a man falling unconscious after you’ve sucked his cock insanely amazing.” She pops her lips, and my grin drops like lead, but before my injured state figures out my counter, something past Lainey steals my attention. A car that’s pulled up in the next lane. A familiar car. With a familiar driver. His head starts to turn toward us, obviously sensing someone in the car next to him staring.
“Oh shit.” My palm is quickly on the back of Lainey’s head and pulling her down to my lap.
“Tyler!”
I smile when Mac clocks me. “Just stay where you are,” I say through gritted teeth so my lips don’t move. “Mac’s just pulled up next to us.”
“Oh shit.”
“Indeed,” I agree, raising my hand in hello when he starts frantically waving at me. “Shit, he’s lowering his window.”
“Just go,” Lainey orders urgently.
“The light’s still red.”
“Do you think he can see me?”
“I fucking hope not.” For fuck’s sake, I should have just left her upright in her seat. Explaining how I’d seen her walking to work so offered a lift would be a far more comfortable conversation than explaining why she’s in my car with her head in my lap. “He’s too far away.”
“Hey, Ty,” Mac calls, his shout reaching my ears through my closed window. “Late today, bud?”
I nod like a twat, feeling Lainey’s head shifting in my lap. “What are you doing?” I whisper as she unfastens my trousers.
“What’s that, mate?” Mac calls, thinking my mouth is moving because I’m talking to him. Fucking hell.
I lower my window a smidgen. “See you . . . fuck!” I yell, jerking in my seat when Lainey thrusts my cock into her mouth. “See you in the office.” My voice gets higher as I wriggle in my seat, my panicked eyes looking up and finding the lights have turned to green. Thank God. I screech away. “Lainey, what the fuck?”
She chuckles and drops me from her mouth, sitting up in her seat and wiping her mouth. “You don’t work well under pressure, Mr. Christianson.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re incorrigible.”
Her hands reach for my lap and she tucks me back into my boxers before fastening my fly. “You can’t shove my face in your groin and expect me to stare at it, Tyler.”
“Then remind me to only shove your face in my groin when we’re in private.” I pull over around the corner from the building. “You’ve got five minutes to get to the office.”
She opens the door and starts to get out, but I seize her arm and pull her back in, unable to resist just one more kiss before she goes. Our mouths touch, and our tongues find that perfect tempo and pressure instantly. She hums, her hand coming up to my stubbly cheek and cupping. “Thank you for a lovely evening.” Biting my lip, she pulls away, smiling, eyes sparkling like diamonds. Lovely. Not pleasant.
It’s me who should be thanking her, but while I’m still trying to catch my breath after another heart-stopping kiss, words are impossible. So I remain in my seat and watch as she jogs across the street and rounds the corner.
I smile, the biggest stupidest smile, and make my way to the office car park.
When the doors of the elevator open and I find no Gina and no coffee, I frown, peeking down the corridor. And then I remember, I’m late. I stride to my office, resisting breaking out in a skip, and pass a bemused-looking Gina at her desk. “Morning,” I say, letting myself through the door, leaving it open, knowing she’ll be three paces behind me.
Shrugging off my jacket, I pull my waistcoat down at the hem and take a seat, turning on my computer. “What have you got for me?” I ask, seeing her by the door.
She doesn’t speak, not for a while, but I don’t entertain the questioning I know is written all over my assistant’s face. Instead, I get to work. It’s going to be a constructive day. Clicking my way through my emails, I hum to myself, tapping my foot under my desk.
“Why are you late?” she eventually asks, flattening my intention of keeping things strictly business. “You’re never late. Why are you late?” She takes a seat across from me, and I turn in my chair to face her. She looks worried.
“Can’t the boss come into work late if he chooses to?”
“Not when the boss has been in work no later than eight o’clock every single day for the past seven years.”
“Maybe the boss fancied a lie-in.” I rest back in my chair and wedge my elbows on the arms, linking my hands. “Or maybe the boss went on a date last night.”
“With who?”
Shit . . .
I need to fix my brain to mouth filter. “Jenna.” It’s the first name that comes to me.
Her eyes widen, justifiably. “You mean a proper date? One where you took a woman out for dinner without the sole intention of fucking her?”