James #2
She was sitting to my right, close enough for the scent of her cinnamon and citrus perfume to drift into my lungs and coat every inch of common sense I had left.
Her voice always had a soft confidence, as if she were letting you in on a secret.
And it didn’t help that she looked exactly how trouble should look—warm golden brown skin reminded me of a sun-kissed afternoon, full lips always threatening a smirk, and a body that was hips, thighs, soft plush belly, and ass made for hands far more reckless than mine had permission to be.
The plus-size beauty would be the perfect playground for my pleasure, if only she weren’t my right hand.
I finally turned my head, and there she was—dimples and all.
Thick curls pulled high and messy like she didn’t have the time to care how fucking sexy it looked.
Black blouse stretched over her chest, her cleavage just visible when she leaned forward.
The sleeves were rolled, revealing ink swirling down one arm—black and gray roses, a quote I’d never gotten close enough to read.
I’ve imagined tracing it with my tongue more times than I’ll admit.
And those pants? Hugged her in all the ways that made a man wonder how she moved when she wasn’t sitting still.
“Hmm?” I managed.
“You just signed off on a 24-hour full closure of both eastbound lanes,” she said lightly, eyes on me, head tilted. “No emergency access.”
Fuck.
Sure enough, my signature stared back at me like a goddamn rookie mistake. One I would never make if I wasn’t thinking about Calla’s voice in my ear or the feel of her inside me, fucking me deep and deliberate while whispering, “You’re mine.”
“Revert that,” I said calmly, drawing a bold line through the item. “Lane shifts and phased detours. No full closure.”
“Got it,” she said, smiling slightly, her pen tapping her lower lip in rhythm. That damn dimple winked at me again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been somewhere else since we walked in.”
I met her gaze, and for a second, it wasn’t just flirtation.
It was hunger.
I’d thought about her. Late nights alone, hand wrapped around my hard dick, wondering what she’d sound like if I made her come, wondering if she was a screamer or the kind who bit her lip and shivered.
If she liked her hair pulled or her throat grabbed, if she’d ride me slow, deep, intentional, until I lost the ability to form a coherent sentence.
And I’d bet good money that under those clothes, she had more ink.
I wanted to see it all.
Wanted to worship it.
But we had a line. One I’d never crossed.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because I knew once I did, I wouldn’t come back from it.
Amiyah was intelligent, ambitious, highly respected, and I wasn’t about to fuck with her professional credibility just because I had a recurring fantasy about her calling me Sir in the office and then sitting on my face after hours.
I couldn’t afford that kind of mess.
So I kept it locked down.
Even when she tilted her head like that. Even when her shirt dipped just enough to show a peek of the tattoo between her breasts. Even when I wanted to drag my teeth across the ink and make her say my name.
“I’m good,” I said, smoothing my expression. “Just running through contingencies.”
She studied me for a beat longer than necessary, then nodded and turned back to her binder. Her curls brushed my arm as she moved. My jaw tightened.
She was a temptation I’d taught myself to ignore.
But today?
With Calla still under my skin? With the way my body still remembered surrender?
I didn’t feel like myself.
Out here, I was the man everyone looked to for answers. The signature on a billion-dollar project. The voice that made deals happen, that made cities safer, stronger, smarter.
But last night?
I was hers, reduced to nothing more than a man on his knees. Helpless, wrecked, fucked, and free. And not even Amiyah’s slow smile or sexy ink could pull me out of the grip Calla still had on my soul.
My thoughts were interrupted yet again. “…and next, we’ll review the bid award for instrumentation and monitoring,” said DeShawn Greene, the contracts administrator, tapping his pen against the screen as if this was just another bullet point on the agenda.
It should’ve been.
I nodded along, hands folded in front of me, projecting calm. Control.
But inside, I was still humming with everything I hadn’t said.
Still raw from the memory of Calla’s hands on me.
Still half-hard in slacks that felt too damn tight as Amiyah sat next to me, her pheromones letting me know my presence aroused her.
Had this meeting not been scheduled, I would have taken the day off to recover from last night’s activities.
I focused on DeShawn’s voice as he clicked to the next slide.
“Final award goes to BlackSphere Technologies,” he said, glancing up from his notes.
“They came in with the most competitive technical score, solid financials, and honestly, the only company that proposed a fully automated system for post-construction monitoring. Their package includes deep-settlement gauges, vibrating-wire piezometers, in-place inclinometers, and real-time alerts. Very tight spec.”
I froze.
My spine locked up. My jaw clenched so hard I felt it in my molars.
BlackSphere.
Calla’s company. She was the CEO. I knew that everyone in Winston Hills did.
BlackSphere was known for its cutting-edge data security, automation systems, and enterprise platforms, primarily serving finance and private-sector tech firms, as well as smart homes, secure communications, and cloud-based AI diagnostics.
But I didn’t know they’d stepped into civil engineering instrumentation.
No one informed me, and it’s clear no one thought to.
Amiyah shifted in her seat beside me, flipping the binder to the next tab. “Didn’t expect to see BlackSphere on this bid,” she murmured, just low enough for only me to hear. “Thought they stuck to corporate tech.”
“They did,” I said before I could stop myself. My voice was tight. “Or… they used to.”
I kept my eyes on the screen, but my pulse thudded behind my ears.
Images of last night tangled with the one in front of me now, graphs and schematics, data hubs and antenna placements, and her. Bent over me. Inside me. Pulling sounds from my throat that I didn’t know I could make.
And now she was about to install pressure sensors beneath my goddamn bridge.
DeShawn kept talking, oblivious. “They’ll be responsible for pre- and post-construction monitoring, settlement tracking, groundwater shifts, and lateral earth movement.
Everything feeds into a cloud-based dashboard with hourly updates.
We’ll tie it into our control system for continuous data collection through the 12-month stabilization period. ”
“Is there a sub-consultant?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. “They have geotechnical oversight?”
DeShawn nodded. “Yep. They’re partnering with Ascent Geo, Dr. Howard’s firm. She signed off on the install design and the calibration specs. Apparently, BlackSphere’s software is entirely self-tuning. Even proposed some predictive algorithms for displacement tolerance thresholds.”
I stared at the screen, but I wasn’t seeing numbers.
I was seeing her.
Calla.
In heels and gloves. Holding a flogger in one hand and my sanity in the other.
I remembered the way she’d sat me down after and fed me water from a glass like I was precious. I remembered the slight smile on her lips when she told me she was proud. When she called me her good boy and stroked her fingers through my curls like I was something worth keeping.
And now she was back in my world.
Professional. Present. Quiet power wrapped in black silk and code.
And I had no idea how to process that.
Amiyah leaned toward me again, her voice warm and curious. “Something wrong with the award?”
I shook my head once. “No. Just surprised.”
I could feel her eyes on me, studying me. Like she knew I was saying only half the truth.
But I couldn’t tell her the other half.
That the woman who just won the contract for one of the most critical parts of my billion-dollar project had her strap inside me less than 24 hours ago.
That she held me down and whispered my name while I shattered for her, and the last time I saw her, I was naked, shaking, and calling her Mistress.
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. “Make a note to schedule a coordination meeting with BlackSphere and Ascent Geo next week,” I said to Amiyah, pulling myself back into the room. “I want full integration with our existing monitoring platforms before any drilling starts.”
“Will do.” She jotted the note quickly, then gave me a side glance. “You sure you don’t want to handle that call yourself?”
I forced a tight smile. “I’ll be there.”
Yeah. I’d be there.
I just had to figure out how the hell to sit across from Calla Black without remembering what her hands looked like wrapped in leather… or how she whispered my name like a prayer when she came.