Chapter 37
Fiona
My nerves jump as I send out my last email for the day and peek through Ethan’s office windows. He’s been grinding away at whatever work he’s doing for the past few hours after telling me to hold all his calls and take messages for him to return to later.
I couldn’t stop thinking about spending time alone with him after everyone else has left. Not that anyone really comes up to our floor anyway, but there will be no interruptions to break through any tension we have.
Standing, I move around my desk and hover near Ethan’s office door. He had told me to come to his office when I finished with my daily work, but he looks focused, and I don’t know if he truly wants me to interrupt him.
“Come in, Fiona,” Ethan calls out. Biting my lip, I shuffle in and make my way over to the chair in front of his desk.
“No, come here.”
I freeze, watching Ethan stand and walk around the desk. He grabs the chair I sat in for lunch, lifts it, and carries it to set it right next to his chair. Great. Exactly what I needed. To be closer to Ethan.
“Take my seat. It’s more comfortable,” he says, giving me no time to protest by sitting in the extra chair. So, I awkwardly lower myself into his fancy office chair and scoot it in.
“I already started pulling the information together, so all we need to do is enter the data, change the format, and reword the document,” he tells me, and I sigh. I did all of this already, but whoever swapped it somehow found a way to delete my original document. If I remember correctly, it took me almost an hour to finish the original.
Ethan leans in clicking a few buttons to bring up the information pages on one monitor and the new document on the other.
“Let’s get this done,” I say, clapping my hands together and trying to keep my focus off how close Ethan is to me. His body heat presses into my arm as he points at the screen, helping me keep track of numbers and where they go.
The first page goes the fastest, but when we get to the second page, we have to rewrite the contractual information. So, Ethan dictates the parameters and supply needs from the manufacturer as well as the time frames the supplies are needed by. I type everything he says, stopping every now and then for him to check.
We move slowly through the writing because of my wrist, but we get into a groove and finish out page two.
“Let’s take a break
Ethan finally says after we finish half of page three. He stands and stretches before pulling at his tie and loosening it. One, two, then three buttons come undone, and I have to bite my tongue as smooth tan skin becomes exposed.
Why did he have to do that? How am I supposed to focus with him acting like a stripper?
Well, okay, not a stripper, but he needs to stop if he wants me to get anything else done.
“Fiona?”
I look up to find him watching me.
“What did you say?” I ask, refocusing. He’s going to think I’m bubble brained if I keep zoning out. “I–I was just… I didn’t
mean to-”
“Fiona, calm down. I don’t like that you’ve become jumpy around me,” Ethan says then lays a hand on my forearm. I glance at his fingers then back up at him. He sighs. “I know it’s my fault, though, and I want to say I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized, Ethan.”
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“But you haven’t accepted the apology, and I want you to,” he says as he takes both of my hands in his. “I know I don’t deserve for you to give me immediate acceptance.”
He runs a hand through his hair like he does when he’s stressed.
“Will you let me make it up to you?”
I study Ethan’s face, searching for hesitancy or indecision, but when I find none, I nod. I would like us to get to a good place, and the first step is accepting his attempt to connect. Honestly, he’s already making an effort to be more understanding and empathetic, and he trusted me earlier when I told him I wasn’t the one who submitted the wrong report.
With a comfortable silence falling over us, we get back to work, pushing our way through the boring numbers, descriptions, and data. Ethan stays even closer to me throughout the entire process, sometimes touching me when he leans in. His hand brushes mine, then his arm presses against me, and he even scoots closer, nearly leaning into my back as we write a particularly difficult description.
By the time we’re done, my body is heated, my head is spinning, and my heart is racing.
“Finally finished,” I grumble, arching my back to crack it, “And we can finally go home.”
Ethan hums, and when I stand, his hand circles my wrist, holding me in place.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but I’ll start my apologies,” he says. His thumb brushes across my wrist right where my pulse jumps from his touch. “I’m going to apologize for everything I’ve said and done. Right here. Right now.”
Confusion fills me until he grabs me by the waist and lifts, sitting me on his desk.
“Ethan,” I gasp.
Before I can say anything else, he slams his lips to mine, pulls me closer, and settles between my legs. Tingles fly through my body, and because I love the way he feels, I grab Ethan by the shoulders and kiss him back.
“You’re mine, Fiona,” Ethan growls, sliding me toward him until I’m balancing on the edge of the desk. His lips trail down my neck, nibbling the sensitive skin there. I gasp when Ethan reaches up and pulls my shirt apart, the buttons flying everywhere as they pop off.
Something in me snaps, and I moan, arching into Ethan’s hands as they cup my breasts. His mouth trails down my body, leaving pleasurable heat behind.
“Lay back,” he orders, gently pushing me backward to lay on the desk. I follow his instruction and moan when he nibbles at my hip as he slides my pants down my legs.
“E–Ethan.”
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “Just lay back and enjoy.”
The molten lava in my core screams for him, and I nearly shriek when he brings his fingers up and circles my clit. I chase the pleasure, lifting my hips and moaning. The tingles turn into a burning fire when he leans in, his tongue following his fingers.
“Ethan!” I cry, my fingers finding their way into his hair.
“That’s it, baby. Do you forgive me yet?” He rumbles, the vibrations sending a wave of need through me. I want nothing more than for him to fuck me right here on this desk.
I shake my head, panting.
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With a hum, he dives back in, inserting two fingers and pumping. I cry out again, arching my body to find that release that is just moments away.
“Please, Ethan, I need-”
With a flick of his tongue and the curl of his fingers, I break apart, screaming as my release washes over me.
Ethan says something, but from my spinning head, I don’t understand until he carefully lifts me up and turns me around.
“Put your forearms on the desk, Fiona,” he murmurs, carefully arranging my body. I let him guide me to bend over the desk as he slowly pumps his fingers in me. I moan and arch, sticking my butt out when he circles my clit again. This man knows how to use his fingers.
“Will you forgive me?”
Looking over my shoulder, I whimper, “Yes, Ethan. Please.”
“Good girl,” he growls, entering me and making me cry out. I push back, my eyes rolling back into my head when he hits the deepest part of me. Pleasure sends me into a freefall as he pounds into me, sending spikes of pleasure zipping through my body. His large, hot hands grip my waist, pulling me back into him.
Leaning in, Ethan’s mouth finds my neck again, and just as I fall over the edge again, his teeth sink into my shoulder.
I moan, the pain and pleasure mixing in an intoxicating concoction that sends me into the depths of sexual bliss.
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