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Copyright © 2005, 2017 by KTB Books
Cover Art © 2016 by Lacey Savage
His hand trailed up her ivory, stocking-covered leg until his fingers touched the edge of her skin. He toyed lightly with the garter holding the stockings up, running his fingers across the lace and stroking the quivering skin of her thigh.
“My dear, you are so very responsive,” he murmured. His fingers moved higher and she held….
Shit, the boss is coming. Close file. Close file.
“Ms. Montgomery, were you able to schedule a pick up for this afternoon to get the documents to China?”
Eliza Montgomery pushed her glasses back up her nose and hoped to goodness her boss, Clayton Johnson, couldn’t tell she was sweating like a virgin on her wedding night.
“Uhmm, yes sir. They should be here at three. They’re charging extra to come on the holiday, though.”
“Can’t be helped.” Johnson moved a little closer to her desk. She felt her nervous tension change to a different kind of tension — one that caused the muscles and nerves deep inside her abdomen, and lower, to wake up. That always seemed to happen around Clayton Johnson. She wished just once he’d look at her with some thing more than professional inquiry in his eyes.
“Are you all right, Ms. Montgomery? You look a little flushed.”
If only you knew, she thought. Aloud she said, “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir.”
Johnson scowled. It was a shame. That seemed to be his perpetual look when he dealt with her. Eliza almost sighed. He was such a handsome man. Check that, actually Clayton Johnson was a hunk. A drop-your-tongue, loose-the-ability-to-think-rationally, hunka-hunka burning man. He was six-foot four inches of solid muscle. His coal black hair, with just a touch of silver at the temples, made a girl long to run her hands through it. And what he did for those Brooks Brothers suits he favored…. Well, that was another sin. He had eyes so dark a blue that sometimes she felt like she could willingly drown in them. And recently he’d started growing a beard. Oh my. She nearly drooled every time she saw it.
For a girl growing up playing with Barbie and Ken dolls, and dreaming a man who looked and acted like Tom Selleck would come and take her away, Clayton Johnson was every dream come true.
It was just a shame he never smiled. At least not at the office. Maybe one of his fabulous escorts made him smile. Liza kind of doubted it, though. It seemed to her, since he left the entire calling and setting of the dates to her, that he attacked the dating scene with the same humorless approach he attached to his work. Yes, Clayton Johnson had to be the original poster boy for the all-work-no-play campaign.
Come to think of it, she mused, I haven’t either arranged one of his dates or taken any messages from his women in several months. Maybe that was part of the reason he was such a grouch lately. He needed to get laid. She almost smiled at the thought of what his reaction would be should she offer her own body for the good of the employees so to speak.
“Which is it, Ms. Montgomery?” he growled.
Liza gulped again. “I’m fine, sir.”
“Good. There’s been some kind of virus hitting the company. We had three people call in sick in receiving this morning.”
Gee, wonder why? Liza thought uncharitably. It is after all, New Year’s Day. Most people were busy being hung over after ringing in the New Year. And most companies don’t bother opening on a national holiday.
Then again Johnson Electronics wasn’t most companies. They were open every day except Sunday year around. Granted, he paid double time on the holidays, but Clayton Johnson could never seem to quite understand that some things were more important than money.
Liza almost sighed. She wished there were more important things than money in her life. But a girl had to eat and pay bills in today’s world. Unless, of course, you were lucky enough to live in the pages of a novel. Liza wasn’t that fortunate. But she could dream. In those dreams, Liza was the type of woman who could make Clayton Johnson stand up on his tiptoes and beg for mercy.
At the sound of his throat clearing, Liza jolted back to reality. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She had to admit it. She was an executive assistant, not a member of the rich and famous club. She was a little too heavy for her own liking and forced to wear boxy business suits, which made her already generous bosom look like it could launch a fleet of carriers. She also had a few pants outfits with long over blouses that looked good in the catalogue, but failed miserably on short women with hips that rivaled the width of the Grand Canyon.
But, it never hurt to dream, right?
So every day she worked alongside Scrooge, er, Clayton Johnson, Liza wished she was someone else.
That thought made her grin. She needed to be more like Satin Pleasure, queen of erotic romance. Oh, wouldn’t that be a sight to send Clayton’s neat, little world into a wild tailspin?
Liza shook her head and realized Johnson was staring at her as if she had grown another eye. “I’m sorry. Did you want something else?”
“Yes, Ms. Montgomery, I did. If you truly feel well today, please bring your tablet and come into my office. I have some memos I want to dictate.”
He turned and strode into his office. Liza had the irrational urge to imitate his walk while sitting at her desk and sticking out her tongue at him. Of course, Liza wouldn’t dare do that. Now, Satin would. Heck, Satin would have followed Clayton Johnson and offered to do something wild like spreading peanut butter all over his delectable body and licking it off. The picture that popped into Liza’s head at that thought was highly erotic. Yum. Peanut butter. With just a smidgen of jelly. Grape, she decided. Nah, he’d never go for that. But how about hot fudge?
Satin had written about the amazing uses for hot fudge in her last story, “Afternoon Delights.” That was the one which had won the coveted Passion Prose award from a famous magazine. It had also been nominated for the prestigious Seraphina award from the Erotic Romance Writers Association.
The words Satin had used popped immediately into Liza’s mind.