Dirty Filthy Fix: A Fixed Trilogy Novella (Fixed #5.5)(10)

“I bet you got yourself off like that the first night you went home with your prize in your pocket. They’re still wadded up in a mess because you haven’t brought yourself to wash them. Because if you wanted to clean your cum, you’d have to wash my scent off as well. And you didn’t want to do that. Did you?”

I’d gotten so lost in the description, so lost in the fantasy I was spinning, I could barely remember where I was. My thighs tingled. My panties were wet. My heart was in the back of my throat, pounding, clamoring to get out. I opened my eyes and peeked out of the stock room, suddenly remembering anyone could have walked in, and I might not be alone any longer.

Thank God, I was.

The other end of the line, though, was quiet. All I could hear was Nathan Sinclair’s breathing. It was steady. Even. I couldn’t read anything from it.

Was he turned on? Was he as aroused as I was? Had this had any effect on him at all, or was it a stupid ploy? Was he angry, even?

I couldn’t tell.

Eventually he’d been silent so long I decided I’d better nudge him. “Mr. Sinclair?”

“That sounds good,” he said abruptly, as if suddenly remembering himself. “I will catch up with you about that later. Thank you. For bringing that to my attention.”

Before I could say anything else he passed the phone back to Hudson and hung up. The line went silent. I listened to the flat dull tone for several seconds, stunned that I’d actually done it. That I’d actually played a sex game. At work. With a stranger. In front of my boss.

Who the fuck was I?

Whoever I was, I needed to get back to being Trish Bisceglia.

I quickly fixed my hair, wiped the damn sweat off my brow, reapplied my lipstick, and returned to my desk, where I tossed my phone back inside my purse and slammed the drawer shut. Thank goodness it was late on the last day of the week before the holiday. There was no one in the office, and by now, probably hardly anyone in the building.

Then I bent my head over the desk and groaned.

Why had I done that?

Nathan could be telling my boss all about it right now. When the two of them came out, I could be called straight into Hudson’s office and promptly fired. This could be the end of my job. Nate might’ve made my week miserable, but it wasn’t like he’d done anything to actually threaten my career. No, I’d done that all on my own by playing a stupid sex game.

A really hot sex game, but that was beside the point.

My behavior had been immature and reactionary. Years, years of balancing my professional life against my very active kink life, and I’d fucked it all up over one green-eyed hottie. At least I’d have the long weekend to touch up my resume, and my mother’s amazing Thanksgiving dinner to drown all my woes in.

I was still wallowing when the door to Hudson’s office opened. I jumped in my seat, unprepared to see either Nathan Sinclair or Hudson Pierce. I couldn’t look either of them in the eye, and so I pretended to be really engrossed in something on my computer when they came out.

“I’ll look these over this weekend, Nathan, and get back to you after the holiday. Have a good Thanksgiving.”

“You too. Tell your wife and family that I hope they have a lovely holiday as well. Oh, before I go, might your secretary show me to the restroom?”

I froze. Secretary meant me.

“It’s just around—” I started.

“I’d really rather you show me,” he said, not giving me a chance to direct him any other way.

I swallowed, and goosebumps rose on my skin. I couldn’t decide if I was actually afraid to show him the restroom or excited.

“I have one in my office,” Hudson began to offer.

“No bother,” Nathan said dismissively. “You’re ready to close up and leave. The public restroom will be fine. Trish?”

I stepped out of the office and into the hallway, ultra-conscious of the man behind me. He didn’t say a word to me, and I didn’t say a word to him.

When I reached the bathroom in the hall, I half turned toward him and gestured. “Here’s the men’s room.”

He opened the door, but he didn’t go in. “After you.”

I paused, not sure if I wanted to do what he said just because he’d said it, but even more sure I didn’t want to not do what he said. I looked down the hallway both ways. There was no one watching.

“I’m not going to force you. You have to walk through this door on your own,” he said when I didn’t walk in.

Apparently he believed in consent and all, too.

Good man.

I peeked into the restroom. It was empty. It was after five on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Who would be here at this time? I stepped inside, my heels echoing loudly on the tiled floor.

The door closed with a bang behind me, and I jumped. I turned around to face him.

Nathan did the same scan of the room, making sure the stalls were all open and empty before stalking toward me.

Without consciously thinking about it, I backed up until I hit the wall behind me. Still, he approached until he was no more than a foot away. He put his arms on either side of me, caging me in, but touching me absolutely nowhere.

“I finished that meeting with the biggest fucking hard-on of my life,” he said, his voice ragged and worn.

I took a shuddering breath, wishing I had the nerve to glance down to see if he was still hard. Wishing I had the nerve to put my hand forward and brush against the crotch of his pants.