Her Contract (Romance) by Lara West

mopey?”
    “No, of course not. I just want to know who the lucky guy is.” He stops reading and lowers the paper. “Wait, it’s not Jake is it? Because Anna, that man is not-”
    “It’s not Jake,” I interrupt, giving him a reassuring smile. “But things with this guy are new, and I’m not ready to tell you about him, just yet.”
    Dad nods and resumes reading. “Well, okay then. But when it gets serious, give me a yell. You’re my favorite daughter after all,” he says with a matter-of-fact tone.
    “Dad, I’m your only daughter.”
    “Exactly!”
    Shaking my head over the comment, I grip the apple and head out the door. Although Lucas had insisted his private car take me to and from work, I told him I wanted things to stay on the down low. I don’t want anyone at the office knowing about us for two very good reasons.
    Firstly, I’m Lucas’s PA and thus a personal relationship isn’t exactly appropriate.
    Secondly, people tend to gossip. If my dad or Lucas’s mom found out that we were together, especially before hearing it from us first, they both might have coronaries.
    The engagement party is this weekend and the wedding a month after that, so we have limited time to come clean. Hence, why we made a pact back in Vegas: we’ll tell our parents before the wedding.
    If they support us – great.
    And if they don’t – well, the bridal party will be minus one best man and one made of honor. Lucas and I have suffered in silence enough to let anything come between us again.
    When I walk into Lucas’s office carrying his usual long black and blueberry bagel, his eyes light up like a Christmas Tree. Seeing as the walls are all glass with no blinds, touching each other has to be very discreet.
    I walk around to the side of his desk and block the view of his hands from the greater office. All I expect him to do is to rub my leg affectionately, but Lucas has other ideas.
    I take pleasure in the way he slides his hand up my inner thigh. Thank goodness I didn’t wear any stockings today.
    He slips two fingers under my panties and up my wet, throbbing pussy. He moves them up and down, nice and slow until I’m creaming so much that I contemplate just jumping on him and forcing his cock into me.
    To hell with anyone who sees us.
    “So Miss Monroe, what’s on the itinerary today?” he asks, fingering me harder.
    My eyes beg him to stop but he knows he’s in control. He knows he has me right where he wants me - vulnerable and at his mercy.
    After carefully placing the coffee and bagel down on his desk, I take the folder out from underneath my arm and try to read the words.
    “Um, at ten o’clock you have a-” He slams his fingers in again with ecstatic force, and I try to stifle a moan.
    “Yes?” he urges me on.
    Throwing him a playful smile, I continue on. “A meeting with Mr. Poe, the advertising executive who-”
    Slam!
    “Yes, Miss Monroe?“
    “Will be taking care of the-”
    Slam!
    “Hmm, go on, Anna…“
    “The Vegas division’s promotions,” I gasp, teetering on the edge. “Lucas, stop. Not here. I won’t be able to control myself.”
    With a wicked smirk, he pulls his hand out from my panties and picks up the long black. He takes the lid off and blows on the hot liquid, as a cover for what he’s really doing - smelling his fingers.
    “Damn, that smells good,” he states, winking as he takes a sip.
    You dirty bastard.
    Or should I say my dirty bastard.
    For the rest of the week, Lucas and I play these coy little games: subtle hand brushes in the hallways; elevator trips up and down floors that give us a solid minute or two of make out time; more “touch ups” by his desk in the morning; and my favorite – bending me over in the stationary room at the end of the office, and getting our rocks off at just the thought that someone might knock and catch us both in the act.
    Oh yes, being Lucas’s PA is far more rewarding than I ever imagined.
    When Friday afternoon finally arrives,