Invitations: Part Two by Isabelle Drake

Author:Isabelle Drake [Drake, Isabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2019-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

After turning on the camera, Sabrina tucked herself behind Jake’s desk and did the best she could to get comfortable in his chair. This scenario wasn’t going quite as she’d expected. The plan had been to shock him into admitting he was the president then force him to apologize for not remembering meeting her at The Indigo. Then he’d accept how much he liked her—and wanted her—and he’d ask her out. Admittedly, the first two were a bit juvenile but she planned to stop being juvenile the second he started kissing her.

But somehow he’d turned the tables on her. There she sat at his desk, with no acknowledgement or apology, her thigh muscles tense and her pussy slick from only the feel of his breath.

It wasn’t long until she heard him knocking lightly on the door. It was good that he didn’t wait for her to call him in, because she might have lost her nerve if he had. He shut the door and stood before her, clutching the papers the same way he had that Monday morning in HR.

The memory gave her a welcome flicker of annoyance that stiffened her back. “Can I help you?”

He stepped closer, still holding out the papers. “Um, yeah, I guess you need to sign these.”

“You guess?” she asked, tilting her head to stare directly up at him.

“I guess, yeah. I mean, yes, you need to sign these.”

She’d seen that act before. He was pretending the nervousness, in the exact same way he had that morning. That was fine. She could play along. “Why are you the one bringing them to me?”

His gaze flickered downward to the tops of her breasts. The simple touch of his look made her even more hot and needy. By the time he responded, she’d nearly forgotten the question.

“Don’t know, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” She ran her hands along the collar of her blouse then dipped her fingers into her cleavage. “Do I look like your mother?”

“No, ma— Miss.” He stared at her breasts, the peaks of her nipples now visible beneath her shirt. “You don’t look anything like my mom.”

She eased the chair back and stood. “Glad to hear that. Why don’t you tell me what I do look like?”

“Excuse me?” The gleam in his eyes was at odds with the bland tone of his voice.

She unbuttoned the rest of the buttons then shoved her blouse back, exposing her pale lilac bra. “What do I look like?”

He cleared his throat but still, when he spoke, his voice held the same lust that was simmering inside her. Finally, he came up with an answer. “A professional.”

She quirked her lips as she rolled her shoulders. “You mean like a prostitute?”

“Oh no.” He was trying to pull his gaze away from her body to her face. “A professional business woman.” Dipping his chin up and down in a comical, jerky way, he added, “A woman who’s my boss.”

“That’s right. Your boss.” She shook her shoulders so that her blouse slipped off and fell to the floor.

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