I try to keep from thrusting; I don’t want her to cry out and blow our cover. The frosted glass doors don’t block much sound. I’m sure my secretary already heard Olivia when she came.

I follow Olivia’s gaze to where it’s held captive—the spot where my body joins with hers. Just the flared head of my cock is buried, a thick vein pulsing along the shaft. I stroke her clit again and feel her inner muscles clamp down on me. Pleasure zips down my spine and I’m way too close to coming already.

“Don’t fucking squeeze me like that,” I growl.

“Shit.”

Olivia climbs down off the desk. For a second, I think that she’s heard someone—that one of our colleagues, or worse, her father, is about to open the door. But when she doesn’t make a move to cover herself, I know that’s not it.

“What?” I ask.

“No condom. We can’t.”

Fuck.

No, scratch that—double fuck.

“Well, this situation . . .” I glance down at my raging erection. “Needs to be taken care of. How can I be expected to work the rest of the day like this?”

She purses her lips. I almost expect her to tell me to suck it up and deal with it. It’s what the old Olivia would have done. But this beautiful, sexual creature before me isn’t the old Olivia.

“And how do you propose I take care of it, Mr. Tate?”

I love that she’s playing right into my fantasy of office sex, complete with calling me by my proper name.

“I could send you on a scavenger hunt for condoms, but that might take too long. Or . . .” I tap my chin thoughtfully.

“Or?”

“I could bend you over my desk and fuck that beautiful ass of yours, or watch you wrap those pretty little lips around my cock and swallow every drop I give you.”

Needless to say, the idea of either excites me to no end.

She looks shy for a moment, just a moment, and I’m dying to know what she’s thinking. Then her confidence comes rushing back. “I’m not having the first time we do . . . that in your office.”

“‘That’ being back door?” I ask.

She gives me a swift nod.

Interesting. She’s not saying never; she’s just saying not right now.

My little Snowflake has melted into a puddle for me. Gone is the chilly, no-nonsense woman who I wanted so badly to rustle up. Now she’s the woman of my dreams, tough when she needs to be, but soft and eager when we’re alone.

Without another word, Olivia drops down to her knees before me and takes me in her hand. Then her mouth is on me and her head is bobbing in time with her hand, and holy fuck, my wife gives good head.

After only a minute, I’m panting and my abs are tight, my orgasm close.

“Olivia.” I grunt, cupping her cheeks in my hands while she continues bobbing up and down. “I’m going to come.”

I warn her to give her a chance to pull away, figuring I’m going to blow my load on the stack of memos on my desk. But her mouth doesn’t move, except to swallow me deeper with a sultry moan.

Fuck. I come hard, with blood thundering in my ears, and Olivia swallows every drop.

“Holy hell, princess.” I help her to her feet, then tuck myself back inside my pants. “That was incredible.”

She gives me a sly grin. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Tate.”

After a long kiss good-bye, Olivia leaves and I sit down at my desk with a lovesick grin on my lips.

But the peaceful atmosphere is not to last. With a tap on the doorframe, Fred enters.

“Hey, Noah, do you have a minute?”

Reluctantly I nod. Fuck. I hope he doesn’t notice that it smells like pussy in here. His daughter’s pussy.

“Come on in, Fred. What can I do for you?”

“Do you mind if I close the door?” he asks.

I nod. “Of course not.” So far his visit is eerily similar to Olivia’s, but if he thinks I’m eating his ass on my desk, he’s dead fucking wrong.

Once the office door is closed, Fred lowers himself into the armchair in front of my desk. “How are things going?” he asks, his lips pursed and his tone filled with skepticism.

“Fine?” I reply, confused. What the fuck is he getting at?

“I actually came to talk to you about something sensitive. Specifically, is Olivia pregnant yet?”

“Um . . .” I swallow and my gaze darts away from his.

“Because Peter’s little tantrum in the meeting this morning was only the beginning, I fear.”

“What do you mean?” If any of these asshats try to undermine Olivia, if any of them try to come at her in any way, so help me God . . .

Fred shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “The board agreed to ninety days.”

“Yes, and?” I tap my fingers impatiently on the desk. We still have plenty of time, by my watch.

“And more than a month has passed without much in the way of results. They’re growing restless. They’re still entertaining offers to dissolve us, son.”

The look in his eyes isn’t just uncertainty. It’s sheer panic. I let out a heavy sigh.

“And there’s something else,” he continues. “My health . . .”

“What is it, Fred?” I lean forward in my chair, placing my elbows on the desk.

“Well, I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer earlier this year, as you know. But I’ve received word from my oncologist that it hasn’t responded to treatment as well as we’d hoped.”