This Man

He yanks me towards him by the collar of my leather jacket and removes my bag, taking my mouth possessively, completely distracting me from my question. ‘I like you in leather,’ he muses as he unzips the jacket, pushing it down my arms slowly and chucking it on the sofa. ‘But I love you in lace.’ He undoes the zipper of the leather trousers as he circles my nose with his. ‘Always in lace,’

I watch his hands work the fastener, my pulse quickening. ‘I thought you have work to do.’ I whisper.

He picks me up, walks me over to his big desk and places me on the edge. Both boots are removed and tossed on the sofa before he bends down, braces his hands on the edge and leans forward so our faces are close.

His green pools of lust are penetrating me. ‘It can wait.’ He snakes his arm around my waist and lowers me to the desk surface. ‘You drive me crazy, lady.’ he says, reaching down and unbuttoning my white shirt as he stands between my open thighs.

‘You drive me crazy.’ I breathe, arching my back when his hot touch skims my breast bone.

He smiles darkly at me. ‘So, we’re made for each other.’ He yanks the cups of my bra down, running his thumbs over my ni**les, sparking endless shots of pleasure throughout me.

Our eyes connect and lock. ‘Probably,’ I agree. I really want to be made for him.

‘Oh, there’s no probably about it.’ He hooks his forearm under my waist and pulls me up from the desk, resting his mouth on my throat. Circling his tongue, he works his way up my jaw bone. I lace my fingers through his soft hair and exhale a contented lung full of air. Perfect. We’re making friends.

The office door flies open, and Jesse yanks me into his chest protectively, and probably to conceal me too.

‘Oh, sorry.’

‘For f**ks sake, Sarah! Knock!’ he yells. I’m secretly delighted at the tone he’s taken with her. I might be half naked and sprawled across his desk, but Jesse is concealing me just fine. He doesn’t let me go as he shifts slightly so he can land Sarah with a filthy look. I catch a glimpse of her in the doorway. She’s wearing a red dress to match her lips, her sour face as plain as the obvious boob job.

‘Finally got her in leather then?’ she says on a sly smile, turning on her heels and leaving. The door shuts with a loud bang, and Jesse rolls his eyes in frustration. I don’t think I’ve ever disliked someone so much.

‘What did she mean?’ I ask, feeling like I’m the butt of a private joke.

‘Nothing, ignore her. She’s trying to be funny.’ he grumbles. His mood has changed dramatically.

Well, I don’t find her remotely funny, but his short, abrupt answer makes me think twice about pushing it. Damn, I want him to finish what he started.

I’m lifted from the desk and placed me on my feet. Pulling the cups of my bra back over my br**sts, he starts to button up my shirt and peel the leathers down my legs. I’m going to look like a crumpled mess. He fetches my bag from the floor, putting my pumps at my feet for me to step into. I start tucking my shirt in, trying to make myself more presentable, and watch as Jesse takes a seat in his huge, brown leather, swivel chair. He’s gone quiet. Resting his elbows on the arms and letting his fingertips meet in front of his lips, he watches me thoughtfully as I finish sorting myself out.

‘What?’ I ask. He looks deep in thought. What’s he thinking about?

‘Nothing. Are you hungry?’

I shrug. ‘-ish,’

A smile tickles the corner of his mouth. ‘-ish.’ he counters. ‘The steak’s good. Do you want that?’ I nod. Yes, I could eat a little steak. He picks up his office phone and dials a few numbers. ‘Ava would like the steak,’ He puts the phone to his shoulder. ‘How do you like your steak?’

‘Medium, please,’

He returns to the phone. ‘Medium, with new potatoes and a salad.’ He looks at me with raised eyebrows. I nod again. ‘In my office…and bring some wine…Zinfandel. That’s all…yes…thank you.’ He hangs up and dials again. ‘John…yes…I’m ready when you are.’ He hangs up before picking up again. ‘Sarah…fine, don’t worry. Bring me the latest attendance figures.’ He puts the phone down again. ‘Sit.’ He points at the sofa in the window.

Okay, I’m getting that uncomfortable feeling again, my small appetite fading fast. Damn it, I hate coming here. ‘I can go if you’re busy.’

He frowns, throwing me a questioning look. ‘No, sit.’

I take myself over to the sofa to settle myself in the soft, brown leather. I feel like a spare part, uncomfortable and awkward. With little else to do, I watch as Jesse flicks through various piles of paperwork, signing here and there. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s doing. He glances up every now and then, lobbing me a reassuring smile, but it does little to ease my discomfort. I want to go.

After twenty minutes, or so, of twiddling my thumbs and wishing he would hurry up, the door knocks and Jesse calls an okay for whoever it is to enter. Pete walks in with a tray and follows Jesse’s pointed pen over to me.

‘Thank you, Pete.’ I smile as Pete places the tray down in front of me and hands me some cutlery wrapped in a white, material napkin.

‘My pleasure, can I open your wine?’

‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve got it.’

He nods before leaving the room quietly.

I remove the lid from the plate and a delicious smell invades my nostrils, dragging my appetite back. Unwrapping my knife and folk, I stab at my separate bowl of salad, the most colourful I’ve ever seen – peppers of every colour, red onion and a dozen varieties of lettuce leaf, all drenched in infused oil. I could eat this alone. It’s wonderful.