TWENTY
SITTING IN brOGAN’S SEAT, at his desk in SG, she chewed her sandwich.
There was always paperwork lying around.
Even in this digital age, people sent Brogan physical packets.
Yeah, contracts in hard copy maybe made sense, but did they need so many reports?
Especially the thick ones. Still, the documents gave her something to read while Brogan or Jenna were taken away by work.
That day, Jenna was her hostess at Spurn Global, and came rushing back into the office, leaving the door open.
“Sorry about that,” Jenna said, sitting opposite her.
She swallowed and closed the report to put it aside. “No problem. Everything okay?”
“We have new people and he likes things a certain way.” Jenna unlocked her tablet, flashing a brief smile. “You must know that better than me.”
“Sometimes he relaxes.”
It still felt weird to talk about him with any authority, but she was beginning to believe in it.
“Honey used to say the only time he relaxed was after sex.”
Drawing breath into her open mouth, her eyes wandered. “There are… exceptions.”
Her smile shouldn’t have grown so fast.
It was nice that Jenna laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. He’d kill me for talking like this.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Why did it feel like such a breakthrough to bond with his assistant? Such a simple thrill. “Now, the party.”
“Right.”
“Roxie’s people will take care of food and drink. They can do music and decoration too.”
“Music like Crimson music?”
The assistant’s cringe was subdued, but it was there.
“She assures me entertainment is what they do. All kinds of entertainment. She has lighting guys too; do we want lighting guys?”
“Can’t hurt. Carver always handles security.
” Carver, the guy who’d come to her room the night of her first date with Brogan?
“We have people to clear the furniture and stage for us.” Okay, that was good.
“Invites went out a couple of weeks ago.” So maybe she should’ve started on this sooner, they had less than a full week. “There weren’t any Sears on the—”
“That’s fine. No Sears is fine.” She did not want Brogan dealing with disrespect in his own house. “Roxie did say Roxiverse wanted to do a thing.”
“LoKys already sent the paperwork.” Glad someone knew what was going on. “Guests are excited about it.”
“I haven’t run it by Brogan yet.”
“Oh, he’ll be okay with it if you’re okay with it,” Jenna said, scanning her tablet. “That’s the way it is these days.”
Why would he care what she thought? Like, he’d care, but that wouldn’t alter his position… would it?
“…nothing I hate more.”
Brogan’s voice carried an unfamiliar tone as it burst the air. All eyes swung to the executive lobby where she’d first waited for that man herself. That man, surrounded by others, fixated on one shivering intern.
“I’m sorry, sir, I—”
“Fuck sorry. Get your shit, give Jenna your credentials, and get the fuck out!”
Maybe if the door hadn’t been open, she wouldn’t have heard that. Maybe. When Brogan wanted to be heard, he was heard. The young guy scurried away from Brogan who came charging right into his office.
“Sir,” Jenna said, leaping up with her tablet to scamper out, closing the door behind her.
That left Gia alone with Brogan. Angry Brogan.
“What did he do?” she asked.
“Your meeting—”
“Not my meeting, the guy out there looking for clean slacks.”
“I don’t like waste.”
“Who does?” she asked. Yeah, he was still angry, his face scrunched in a frown, yet she didn’t consider shrinking. “What did he do?”
“Wasted my time.”
“I do that on a regular basis.” Her smile wasn’t enough to move him, so she got up to go over there and curl both hands around his tie. “Why are you grumpy, baby?”
“I have work to do.”
“Yes, you do.” She didn’t let go, even when he shifted. “You’ll do it better if you’re happy.” Still holding his tie, she rested against him. “Want me to make you happy, Mister?” Tightening her hold, she walked backward, eyes on his even as she slid up to sit on his desk. “You’re too stressed.”
“You left our bed before your coffee this morning.”
Which he usually brought to her in their sheets.
“Business calls come first.”
“Nothing else comes first. You stay in bed until you get permission to leave.”
Coffee had been waiting on her vanity when she got out of the shower. How it got there, she didn’t know. Brogan, God love him, had high expectations even of himself. And he didn’t like to fail. He hadn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to her until she met this scowl of his.
“Then I let you down.” The flirtation in her smile seemed to relax his frown a little, just a little. “Will you give me the chance to apologize?” Her hands descended slow, slipping off his tie to loosen his belt. “On my knees.”
“Not a chance.” He grabbed her knees and forced them apart hard, wide apart. “You submit right here.”
When he lunged down to scoop her head aside with his, gentle suction grew stronger on her neck until a dart of pain quaked. They were in his office, with the windows—they went black. Dyce glass. She’d heard tell.
With their privacy, she sagged, clinging to him, boneless in need of his strong forearm as it hooked around her waist to angle her back.
“You want it, baby?”
“I want it.” He shunted her to the blunt edge of the desk, grinding himself against her pussy. “Please. I want it. Mister… Right here. Do it right here.”
Breath flowed and stalled, the sweet trail of his possessive hands explored over her clothes, and under where they could finagle.
She wanted their bed, their privacy, their sweet illusion of bliss. In the moment, there was no illusion. Her whine of submerging desire signaled their completion in each other when he filled her up.
Brogan Spurn. How could he be the one to clench her guts. Electrified and grateful, she needed to hang, needed to give him the time to—
“Mister,” she said, a burn in her throat.
Leaning back, holding herself against his steadying arm, her hips rose and fell as he pounded into her until a hiss of his own impatience razed the humid air.
Biting her lip, she growled, internalizing as much of the desire as possible. His staff were out there. His assistant just a pane of glass away.
“Brogan,” she yapped in climax. “Bro—Mister… Ah…”
He thrust through her orgasm and kept going until right at the cusp of an aftershock, a bolt of his ownership filled her with the glory of his summit.
Panting, he stayed in her.
She reached up to brush his hair from his temple. “How did I do?” she asked, rolling her smiling lips around her teeth. “Happier?”
God, she’d never felt so amazing. Never.
Leaning over, he pressed a button on his phone. “Jenna,” he said after a quick beep, zipping his pants. “Tell the boy he can stay.”
She smiled. That hadn’t been her point, but to see the transformation and how being with him completely inverted his mood? Wow. Jenna was right. Brogan Spurn. She had magical powers.