Sensuality by Zane Page A

another glance. She debated on pulling out her emergency office “toy” to douse the flamesthat burned between her legs. She knew that she shouldn’t. She had business to handle and a seduction to arrange.
    Fuck it! She reached for her key chain and unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a pink vibrator. She turned it on and propped her left leg on her desk, exposing her nether regions to the cool office air. She stared at Javier’s picture and put the pink pleasure pole in her panties and massaged her throbbing nub. The pulsing sensations on her clit caused shivers to run up her spine. Her head rolled back and her eyelids drifted shut. Gently, she directed the vibrator in between her slick folds and nudged it inside. She imagined it was El Profesor inside of her. The pulsing beat of the pink intrusion matched the pulsing of her sex. Her liquid seeped out and she gasped for air. She came quick, shuddering and shaking in her leather chair.
    She took a moment to collect herself before returning Javier’s picture to his file. She wiped her pink pleasurer, placed it back in the drawer, and locked it. She picked up her office phone and began making calls.
    “A man can only take so much temptation before he says to hell with it and succumbs.” The excuse that Quinton had given for sleeping with Francine echoed in her mind. She would make sure that was the same excuse Javier gave to Francine.
    Three months later
    Marisela sat in the oversized seat afforded to the first-class passengers, drafting a fake résumé on her laptop. The final step before arriving in Panama was to have a résumé with a list of references. Thanks to Carmen she had found a way to not only get close to Javier, but live with him while Francinewas in New York. As it turned out, he needed a live-in cook. Francine had fired the old one before she left. Marisela, coincidentally, enjoyed gourmet cooking as a hobby. With a lovely recommendation from Javier’s colleague—Carmen—she was set to start work in a week.
    Marisela arrived at the massive electric, black iron gates that surrounded the Dominguez estate. After speaking to the silver intercom box located outside the perimeter, the gates opened. She drove up the cobblestone driveway and let out a low whistle as she admired the large, five-story, yellow stucco mansion. Javier stood outside on the veranda, watching her slow approach.
    He appeared taller and more defined than he did in his picture. His pictures were an insult. He was downright gorgeous in person. He wore a white linen outfit. Too bad he wore boxer briefs underneath. Marisela really wanted to know what she would later be working with…not that it mattered, of course. Vengeance was vengeance. Big or small, he was hers.
    “Buenos días, Señor Dominguez.” Marisela extended her hand in greeting. He accepted. “Soy Marisela.”
    “¡No! ¡Por favor, Javier!” His voice was deep. She had been around Spanish speakers all her life, but his sounded different. His was the only one to set her body aflame. His cologne emanated the scents of sandalwood and musk. It only added to her already blossoming attraction. He oozed sex with every word. She would call him Javier as he requested, and later, when he begged, she would call him “Papi Chulo.”
    “Aquí.” She shoved the résumé in his face. She knew the job was guaranteed because Carmen gave her a rave recommendation, but it never hurt to be extra-prepared.
    Javier stood there flipping through the papers, not really seeing what was on the page. He needed something to distract him from staring at the new cook. She was tall, about five feet eight inches, and thick in all the right places—hips, legs, and breasts. A gentle breeze passed, carrying the sweet smell of her perfume. Her smooth, flawless honey-brown skin enticed him. He wondered if she tasted like honey. Her hazel eyes held secrets, ones he wanted to explore intimately. His dick leapt at the thought. “¡Está muy