Operation Foreplay by Christine Hughes

the conference room but there was no one there. Standing at the far end of the large conference table, I was scrolling through the e-mails on my phone to be sure I had the right place and time when Zac walked in.
    For a moment, I lost my mind. Wearing dark jeans, he folded up the sleeves of an untucked crisp, white button-down as he approached me with his signature smirk. His dark eyes blazed in the dim light and his hair was damp, which told me he’d just come from the gym shower. The scent of his coconut shampoo wafted toward me as he walked in. It was my favorite smell in the world. A warm heat spread through my center and I thought I’d climax from sheer proximity. I had to take a step back and shake him out of my head.
    “Where is everyone?”
    “Nice to see you, too. A whole week of avoiding me and all I get is a ‘Where is everyone?’ That’s not my usual greeting.” Instead of stepping toward me, he sat in one of the leather chairs that surrounded the large oak table and crossed his ankle over his knee. His stare unnerved me. It usually did.
    “Well, that’s not something we should be discussing on company time.” I pulled out my leather portfolio and placed it on the table. Anything to distract me from actually looking at him.
    “Oh, right. Company time.” I felt like his voice turned to silk and caressed my body. I knew my knees would buckle if I didn’t find myself a seat.
    I walked around the chair and took up my spot as far from him as I could. I needed space. Distance. I was losing my resolve quickly.
    “Did you get the flowers I sent you?”
    “Yes. Thank you, they are beautiful. You really didn’t have to.” I rifled through my briefcase and busied myself with organizing paperwork and legal pads.
    “I don’t have to do a lot of things. Are you nervous?”
    “What?” I sat up straight. He was resting his chin on his hand with his finger curled around his lips. The lips that tasted like cherry lip balm. With the world at his disposal, he relied on something as mundane as drugstore-variety cherry-flavored balm to keep his lips smooth.
    Moist.
    I was sure if I checked his left pocket, I’d find it.
    The sound of my phone hitting the floor echoed in the quiet space.
    “Where is everyone else? I thought there was a meeting?”
    “There is and by my count, the gang’s all here.”
    “But I thought—”
    “Well, my dear Melody, I had to come up with some way to get you to talk to me. You won’t take my calls, you won’t come to my office when I ask you to. You always send your assistant, Julie—”
    “Jenny.”
    “What?”
    “Her name is Jenny.”
    He waved away my response. “Right. Well, as I was saying, I did what I had to in order to get face time with you. You’re lucky I like you. Others may have seen your behavior over the past week as insubordination.”
    His words hit me like a brick wall. “Insubordination! How dare—”
    “Relax. It was a joke.”
    “You never were very funny.” I was losing the battle. I white knuckled the arms of the chair and crossed my ankles to force myself from getting up and walking over to him.
    “Maybe not. But you don’t really want me for my comedic talent, now do you?”
    “You’re arrogant.” I pretended to be uninterested and examined my chipped manicure, hoping that letting go of the chair wasn’t a mistake.
    “I am. And you’re sexy as hell. Look at you over there. You aren’t wearing your usual evening meeting attire. Do you want me to find out what’s under that skirt? I’d bet you a thousand bucks that you’re having a hard time not touching me right now.”
    “I’d say you owe me a thousand bucks. And for the record”—I borrowed Berk’s line—“I am wearing my big girl panties.”
    “I’d love to rip those off with my teeth.”
    “And I’d love it if you gave me that thousand dollars.”
    “Let’s put this to the test, shall we?” Casually, he stood, walked to the other side of the table, and pulled out