“You can drink all you want, Caroline.” Wash took a gulp, as if to goad me. “I saw you home from the bar last night, remember?”
I squinted at him. “Yeah, I heard how you offered several times to put me to bed.”
He laughed and put his arm along the back of my chair. “I was just trying to look after you. Nothing wrong with that, right?”
Emboldened, I grabbed my glass and matched his gulp, the wine tart and perfect on my tongue. “Trying to put an associate to bed? You’ve been courting an EEOC complaint for weeks, Mr. Granade.”
“Have I, Ms. Montreat?” He gave me his wolfish smile, the one that set my core on fire, and slid a hand under the table and onto my leg.
His palm was warm, smooth on my bare thigh. I raised my eyebrows and took another swallow of wine. “This is what I was talking about, Mr. Granade.”
“What?” He poured more wine for both of us with his free hand. “Just spending time with you and buying you a nice dinner? That’s going to land me in hot water with the EEOC?”
“Yes and what you did in my offi—”
He moved his fingers farther up my thigh, and my thoughts went whirling like leaves in the wind for a moment.
“Please go on.” He leaned closer, his fingertips massaging my skin with light pressure. Sensations vibrated up my leg and throughout my body. “Tell me about my workplace violations in detail.”
I gawked at him. “You want me t-to remind you of your handbook and federal law violations?”
His lashes lowered as he moved closer, his gaze on my lips. “Yes. Tell me exactly what I did that you find inappropriate. It’s the only way I’ll learn, you see, Ms. Montreat.”
His fingers played their own rhythm against my skin, lulling me and igniting me at the same time. I glanced around, certain the other diners knew what we were doing.
“Don’t look at them. Look at me.” His voice was commanding.
My gaze went right where he wanted, back to his sparkling eyes.
“Now, tell me, Ms. Montreat. Refresh me on my bad behavior.” His voice was insistent, his fingers more so.
“You were inappropriate in my office. And then at Mr. Palmer’s house. Mmm.”
His fingers moved higher, the back of his hand pushing my dress out of the way as he went. “No, Ms. Montreat. As you know, these sorts of allegations have to be very specific to be taken seriously. I’ll need details to properly write up a formal complaint. What did I do to you in your office that warrants disciplinary action?”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes as he edged closer to my panties. The restaurant faded around me and I was there on my desk again, his head between my thighs, my nails digging into the papers on my desk.
“Y-you ate my pussy.” It was a breathy whisper.
He moved closer, his mouth at my ear. “What else did I do?”
My clit was tingling, my panties getting even wetter. “You made me come.”
“Did I? Did I make you come all over my face while I tongued your clit?” He moved higher, his fingertips brushing the wet fabric against my core. “Fuck, Ms. Montreat. Do you have any idea how wet you are?”
I tried to close my thighs.
“No,” he growled in my ear. “I won’t kiss you again until you ask. I didn’t make any promises about the rest of you, Ms. Montreat. These legs stay open. Understand?”
I nodded, and he grazed my thong again with his fingers. His gentle stroke was like a sizzle of electricity against me. I wanted more. I wanted him to light me up from the inside.
“Now, that was just the first infraction. Is that correct, Ms. Montreat?”
“Yes. It was. There was another.”
“Tell me about that one.” He pushed harder against my panties, and my head fell back, his voice still in my ear.
“You fucked me at Mr. Palmer’s house.”
His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, and he groaned as he stroked my slick folds. “I’ll need more details, Ms. Montreat. Many more.”
“You pushed me down on the bed and you were so rough with me.”
“How rough?”
“You pinned me beneath you and held me down and, and . . .”
His fingers at my clit stole my voice.
“And what?”
“And you fucked me until I came.”
“Did you ask me to come inside you?” His lip teased my ear.
“Yes.”
He swirled his fingers around my clit. “Did you like it?”
“I loved it. I loved every second of it.”
“Fuck, Ms. Montreat, I think you may have a claim after all.” He moved his fingers down and pressed one inside me.
A strangled whimper caught in my throat. His breath was in my ear and he nibbled my earlobe. “You may need to add this incident to your report.” His voice was raspy, devious as he moved his finger in and out slowly.