For the rest of the week, I do my best to focus on my work. It isn’t easy, especially now that Emery’s refusing to do anything vaguely resembling hooking up at the office. It seemed playful that first day, a little bit of teasing that actually made the anticipation of another encounter hotter. But now, something’s off.
It’s not that she’s being hostile or even chilly to me. She’s friendly enough and even bats her eyes at me occasionally. But it’s only occasionally, and honestly, she seems about as friendly with me as she does with everyone else. Including Ramon.
Ramon was thrilled when I told him that I’d changed my mind about taking Emery to the conference. He asked if he could do some work with her on the marketing to get her up to speed. I nearly offered to do it myself, but then I remembered that I am the CEO. It’s my name on the company. I don’t have the time—and shouldn’t be acting like I have the time—to prep an intern for a conference. So all I could do was say yes.
And oh, she’s perfectly pleasant with Ramon and Sandy as they do their prep together. I’ve only sat in momentarily on meetings between the three, but I’ve watched as she oohs and ahhs over the framed pictures of his kids in his office. She asks all the right questions. She’s got her notes. She’s thoughtful. She took the time to teach Sandy a few spreadsheet tricks, something that Sandy mentions nearly every single time she brings me a coffee now.
“That girl is so sweet,” Sandy said just this morning. “She’s got such a good head on her shoulders.”
She gave me a pointed look before she left. I did not appreciate it.
But the point is that Ramon was right. She’ll be great on this trip, and if she is as great as we all think she will be, she might even have found a place for herself beyond intern. As her boss, I should be thrilled. Especially since, with all the fawning those two are doing, no one could doubt I promoted her just because we hooked up—not that anyone knows that, thankfully.
But I’m not thrilled.
Instead, I’m wondering why she’s treating everyone the same way she treats me. None of them made her scream with pleasure as they fucked her. None of them have seen the way her head tilts back as she moans and squeals with delight. And, perhaps more infuriatingly, none of them opened up to her about anything personal. At least, I don’t think Ramon’s confessing his marital problems to her. Not that he has any.
It’s not that she’s being cool, exactly. It’s something else. Is it guilt? She only answers one out of every three text messages that I send her. Which is…annoying as fuck. She dodges anything too flirty on text, the closest she gets to flirting back is the occasional winking face emoji when I bring up the trip. It must be some Gen Z bullshit that I don’t understand. That, or she’s lost interest, but I don’t believe that. Every now and again, I find her doe eyes on me, dipping to my abs or below, a flush covering her skin. I’ll see her bite those pouty lips, and I know she’d be wet for me.
And I know she’s new to the sex thing, but surely she gets that it was great between us, right? She can’t think she can replace me with just any asshole and have it be the same. I’m not sure why I expect her to know that without any frame of reference in lovers. Yet the idea of her having a frame of reference in lovers so that she can appreciate how well I make her come infuriates me. Fucked if I do, fucked if I don’t. Or something like that.
But I’m playing nice, even if I leave the office every day infuriated. After all, I’m not the kind of guy who throws himself at women. They come to me. And Emery Mills should be no different.
On the Thursday before the trip, I decide I can’t stand it anymore. I have to get to the bottom of this. After all, it can’t be anything that I’ve done. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman. I’m about ready to storm over to her cubicle and demand to know what’s wrong when I get my first clue from Sandy.
“That girl,” she says, shaking her head. “Such a sweetheart.”
“Yes,” I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I’m used to Sandy’s flattery of Emery by now.
“You know, she was asking me how to book the flight for this weekend,” Sandy continues. “She was saying that she’s been watching Expedia for cheap flights, but she wanted to make sure she had the schedule right so that she didn’t miss anything.”
My head snaps up. “She was trying to book a flight? Surely someone told her that she wouldn’t need to.”
Sandy laughs. “I told her she’ll be taking the private plane with you, and she didn’t believe me. She said she couldn’t ‘impose’ like that. I really enjoy her Midwest manners.”
“But you told her that it’s not a choice?” I ask, my voice firm.
Sandy waves a hand. “Of course. And she accepted. Honestly, I think she was relieved. I get the feeling that she might be having some financial struggles, you know? New York is expensive for anyone, let alone interns.”
Alarm bells ring in my head. I remember Emery’s face on the steps and her expression after seeing her phone the other day. Could it be those damn student loans that she mentioned that have been causing this problem?
I make the decision quickly. It’s been said of me that I never sit on a decision for too long. I believe that business is as much a game of the mind as anything, and I trust mine to have strong instincts at this point. I pick up the phone and ask Sandy to come into my office, and then I ask her for two pieces of information. She blinks a little at first, not understanding what I’m asking for, so I repeat myself. Sandy’s a pro though, so she keeps her thoughts to herself and returns with the information in her normal timely fashion.
The first task is simple, if annoying. It requires me being on hold for some time. How people deal with that, I don’t know. Then it requires arguing. Normally, something this annoying I would pass off on Sandy, but the information is too personal. It would raise uncomfortable questions, so I do it myself. I’m transferred a few times—again, unsure how anyone deals with this. Finally I get what I want. Unbelievable that sending money should be this difficult. It’s an hour of my life that I won’t get back, but at least I feel like I’ve made progress. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s standing still.
The next task is easier and wrapped up in five minutes. It’s a Band-Aid solution but one that will work for now.
There, I think, full of male satisfaction. Now, I’ve taken care of everything.
It takes less than an hour for Emery to knock on my office door. She enters with her eyes even wider than usual. She looks curious, if not concerned. Like she thinks someone’s playing a trick on her.
“Mr. Duke,” she says after I wave her in. “May I interrupt you?”
I nod. “Yes, of course. How can I help you?”
She shifts on her feet. I know the question she wants to ask me. But I won’t ask it for her. Instead, I level my gaze at her, hoping I seem patient and open.
“I just got an alert,” she says. “From my bank.”
I stare back at her, the picture of innocence. “Is there a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No. But…but it seems that someone paid off my student loans. All of them.”
“How generous,” I say.
“Mr. Duke,” Emery steps farther into my office. “Did…did you do this? Because you’re literally the only person I know with the resources to do something like this.” She shakes her head even as the words leave her mouth. “I feel ridiculous asking. Why would you pay off my debt. Why?”
For a moment, I just look at her. She’s in a pink dress that hugs her curves perfectly. Her hair up and away so that I can see her eyes, one lone brown wisp falling across her cheek as she’s focused on me. Sparkling a little in the light of my window.
“Yes, Emery,” I admit. “I did.”
Her mouth drops open. “But why? It was over $50,000.”
“I wanted you to be able to focus.”
She stares at me, her gaze a bit narrowed. “What do you mean?”
I look at her and gesture for her to sit down across from me. I want it to be clear to her that I’ve done this as a business move. One, because I have. Two, because if she takes it another way and is offended, I can insist on the business aspect. Three, because I need to convince myself that that’s why I did it and not because I have feelings for the girl. Feelings are dangerous. Feelings cannot be fucked away.
This all feels very logical, really.
“This conference is a really big deal and the deal on the line with Pink is worth a lot more than fifty grand to me. I’ve noticed how distracted you’ve been, and Sandy mentioned to me that you’ve been having financial challenges. If this was the distraction, well, now it’s been eliminated. Problem solved.”
Emery just stares at me. “Problem…solved.”
“Well, isn’t it?” I ask, trying not to sound too frustrated. “You had this hanging over your head, and I took care of it, and now you can focus.”
“On the conference,” she says, her voice dry and her eyes narrowed.
“Yes, on the conference,” I say. “Because it’s an important deal.”
Emery laughs, catching me off guard. She shakes her head, her eyes still narrowed as she looks at me. She looks fiercer than I’ve seen her before. There’s a spark of the passion from when she called me out at the charity event.
“You’re unbelievable,” she says. “You didn’t think that, oh, maybe I should ask what was going on with me? You thought you’d just do this and that I’d be like, oh, okay, now that all of my debt is taken care of, I can focus? And I thought you said you hated lying.”
“I do. Hate lying,” I grit out. “And how could I have asked you what was going on when you’ve been avoiding me, Emery.”
That stills her, something conflicted passing across her face. But then she takes in a breath and levels me with another glare.
“I have been trying to protect you,” she says. “You warned me—”
“Let me make it very clear to you,” I say, standing to lean across the desk. “I don’t need a little girl from Kansas to protect me. I take care of myself.”
“Well, so do I!” Emery says, nearly shouting as she straightens to her full height to meet me. We’re nearly nose to nose now, both of us steaming with anger. Anger or, it’s possible, something else.
“I didn’t need you to do that,” she says, biting out the words. “I had a plan. I was going to pay them off. And now I owe you.”
“And that’s a problem?”
She breathes hard. “Of course it is.”
The moment’s quick. In one movement, she’s leaned over the desk and closed the inches between us. Our mouths come together in a frenzy of kissing, hard and desperate with each of us trying to take more from the other. In a moment, I’ve pulled her forward to my side and hiked up her dress. She’s pawing at my shirt with impatient hands, fumbling with my buttons until she gets enough undone that she can pull it free. Then, my mouth’s on her neck, tracing nips and kisses as she moans and presses against me.
“Touch me,” she begs. “Please. Now.”
I don’t need to be asked again. In a moment, my hands are under her skirt. Rubbing the sensitive skin through the lace of her panties. She pants against me as my kisses dip lower to her collarbone.
“Now,” she insists. “Can we? I need you right this second.”
I press another kiss to the hollow of her throat as I slip my finger under her panties and find her wet for me. She’s soaked, and I wonder if this want was building from the moment she walked in my door. I feel the vibration of the moan in her throat as I plunge inside of her with a finger, relishing the feel of her tightening around me. It’s been too long since I was inside of her, and we both know it.
“More,” she begs. “God, Harrison, I want you to fuck me right here. I know we should be good but—”
She cuts herself off, her hands moving to my belt, impatient and fumbling as she continues to buck against my hand. Her fingers brush against my hard cock as it strains against my trousers, eager to be free.
Eventually, I’m forced to stop fucking her with my hand so that I can push down my pants, letting my cock spring free between us. Emery immediately wraps her hand around it, reverently stroking it up and down as I groan.
Her eyes find mine, full of lust, as she scoots closer to the edge of the desk, her legs parted and ready for me.
Her hand continues its stroking as I reach into my wallet for a condom. A condom I’ve verified is there more times than I care to admit, waiting on this exact moment to present itself like a goddamned teenager. Emery watches hungrily as I rip open the packet, removing her hand so that I can slide it on. Then I lean forward and run a trail of kisses along her jaw before catching her mouth again in mine.
“Tell me again,” I demand. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me right here,” she says. “On your desk,” she adds, with a coy little laugh, as if she’s amused to have found herself here.
I drive into her with a deep stroke as she arches her back and moans, grinding her hips forward to take more of me. I force myself to take it slow, remembering how new she is to this, but she only wants more. She braces herself back on her elbows, tilting her hips up, allowing me to press deeper and deeper into her until we’re both groaning in satisfaction. Until I’m buried so deep inside of her, so wet and tight, I nearly embarrass myself by blowing my load before she’s there with me. I hold on until she comes, biting her lip to keep from letting out the scream that I know she wants to emit. The sight is so hot, with her hair loose and wild from her earlier bun and her face flushed with her orgasm. I hold on for three more strokes, my orgasm rocketing through me as I spill into her, my own body shaking.
We sit there for a moment, both of us breathing hard from the exertion. I help her sit up so that we’re cheek to cheek, me still inside of her, her legs wrapped around me.
“So we have one full week of this at the conference,” she says in a ragged voice.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Then we better make the most of it,” she says, pulling me into a kiss.
Danger, the alarm bells in my mind blare. Danger ahead. An affair with an intern is a stupid idea. She’ll get hurt and my reputation will take a hit.
But I don’t care. Not now, still inside her, with her heart beating so close to mine and her head resting on my shoulder.
Fuck danger. Fuck all of it.