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Perhaps he was a predator after all.

He booted up his computer and tried to focus on work.

A knock on the door several minutes later drew his attention from the computer screen, and he looked up to see Veronica slip through the door, almost like she was sneaking in. He removed his wire-framed reading glasses to watch her as, with the flick of one hand, she closed the blinds of his office. He leaned back and watched her approach, a grin stretching his lips. He'd been wrong about her clothes. She'd discarded the blazer and wore the same silky blouse from last night, still without a bra. The sway of her magnificent breasts beneath the fabric mesmerized him, but not enough for him to miss that the ankle length skirt revealed a long stretch of leg with each step. It was no more than a piece of fabric wrapped around her slim hips and hooked only at the waist.

The easy accessibility sent blood rushing to his groin. When she reached up and released the clip from her hair, sending the piece of plastic sliding across the desk beside his glasses, his cock came to full attention as her hair tumbled around her shoulders.

"You were a very good sport last night,” she said, circling his desk.

He pivoted his chair to face her and she stepped between his knees, bent at the waist, her hair falling forward, her blouse drooping enough to give him a view of her tantalizing cleavage. He thought about asking her if she locked the door, but she placed a hand on his chest and he didn't want to break the contact, even to insure their privacy.

"I want to give you a small token of my appreciation."

She lowered her mouth to his, her lips soft, slick with lipstick, her tongue minty as it played over his lower lip, slid along his. He curled his hands at her waist, intending to pull her onto his lap, slide his hand up a silky thigh, make her come right here in his office. He wouldn't play around this time. What would she do then? She wouldn't be able to hide from him after that.

But she resisted, breaking the kiss, and frustration built when he thought she would walk out again. She tucked her hair behind her ear, still bent over, allowing him a glimpse of her rosy nipples, peaked against the fabric.

"Do you mind if I live out a little fantasy?"

He shook his head, aware he hadn't spoken since she'd walked in.

She still pressed one hand to his chest, trailed it down the line of buttons to his belt. She rubbed her finger back and forth for a minute and his cock bobbed hopefully.

"Veronica.” His voice was strangled.

She flashed him a sideways smile and pulled the strap free of the buckle, found the hook of his slacks. He sucked in a breath to make it easier for her to undo, and found his head filled with the scent of her, flowery, female, sexy as hell. She trailed the backs of her fingers along his erection as she lowered his zipper, causing him to throb with need, and then, with another tuck of her hair behind her ear, she went down on her knees and freed him from his briefs.

"I thought about this all night,” she murmured, curving her small white hand around his thick blood-darkened shaft.

He said her name again.

"Every time you say my name it's like a little orgasm.” She smiled, then closed her lips around the head of him, her lips soft, gentle. He gripped the arms of his chair and willed himself not to go off at such a simple touch.

Her thumb stroked the base of him while she traced the rim of his cock with her tongue, darting, sliding, with no real rhythm so that he had to focus on the computer just for a moment to find his control.

She rose onto her knees and the heat of her mouth encompassed him, her tongue sliding down the underside of his cock as the head bumped the roof of her mouth, then the back of her throat. He eased back to watch her mouth slide over him, striving to reach the base of his shaft. He felt the pliant flesh at the back of her throat convulse before she glided her lips up his length to swirl around the head of him, the tip of her tongue flicking at the sensitive spot just below the head before she took him deep again. God, the sight of her full lips around him—would he ever be able to look at her mouth and not see that in his mind's eye every time? He fisted one hand on the arm of his chair, reached to stroke her cheek with the other, felt the muscles of her jaw working, watched the pleasure in her face as her eyes fluttered closed, as she gave herself to the task with an enjoyment he hadn't even imagined in his fantasies.

She cupped his balls, and he felt the hum of approval all down the length of his cock. When she traced her thumb over the tender skin behind them, he quivered, fighting for control. He didn't want this to end yet, though, Jesus, had she locked the door?

As if summoned, a light rap sounded at the door.

"Laurie!” he rasped.

Veronica, on an upward sweep, released him, leaving him glistening from her mouth, bobbing, abandoned. “Veronica,” she chided.

"The door!” He snatched her hair clip from his desk, dropped it to the floor beside him and nudged Veronica with his legs, into the knee well. He slid his chair as far under the desk as he could to hide his nakedness, as the handle turned.

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Vicente barely had time to recognize the understanding on Veronica's face before Laurie stepped into the room.

He hoped his secretary didn't have any important information to impart, because, while he watched her mouth move with more care than he usually took, he couldn't hear anything past the roaring in his ears, his mind on another pair of lips that-Jesus-just slid down the length of him again.

Laurie cocked her head at him. “Are you okay?"

"Great.” His voice was a croak. “Tired.” He dared not say more, afraid it would come out as a groan. Every ounce of will kept his eyes from fluttering when Veronica did that swirly thing again around the head of his cock. He fucking loved that swirly thing. She should patent it.

And then she took him deep again, her fingers circling the base of him, her other hand stroking his balls.

God, he wanted to touch her, feel her skin, her hair, but he kept his hands on the table and concentrated on keeping them from shaking.

"You look like you're going to be sick."

"I just—need a few minutes of peace. Do you think—could you lock the door and shut off the lights?"

The last came out higher pitched as Veronica nipped the head of him with her teeth. He was shaking all over now. He did not want to be looking at Laurie when he came in Veronica's mouth.

"The phone call?” Laurie asked, her gaze flicking to the phone.

"Later,” was all he managed as his balls tightened with his impending orgasm.

Laurie frowned, but turned and flicked off the light switch and locked the door on her way out.

He barely dropped back in his chair, whispering, “Now!” She took him deep and he came and came and came, watching her watch him as she swallowed.

The shaking didn't subside as the pulses of pleasure did. Veronica sat back on her heels with a self-satisfied toss of her head. But when she licked her lips, as if to get every drop of him, he grabbed her arms, dragged her to her feet before laying her back on his desk, parting her skirt and pressing his flagging cock against her bare pussy.

He glanced down to see the skirt spread in a vee around her neat little mons. No panties. Jesus, wouldn't that drive him out of his mind the rest of the day?

"I think you are the devil."

He cupped his hand around the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair and kissed her, soft, probing. He tasted his cum, but sought the taste of Veronica as the weight of his waning erection pressed against the slick folds of her. He'd give his fortune to be inside her right now, but she'd done a thorough job with her mouth. He smiled against that mouth. She probably wished she hadn't. He could make her come, though, here on his desk, rubbing against her, touching her. The door was locked, after all.

He rose on his elbows, sweeping her hair back from her face, looking into those pretty blue eyes, glazed with passion. He stroked one hand up her leg, between them, over her slick lips, and watched her eyes flutter closed when he traced his finger over her clitoris.

"Christ, you're so wet. Did sucking me do that to you?"

She parted her legs wider for his fingers. “Mm, thinking about sucking you, sucking you, thinking about touching you, about you touching me. Thinking about fucking you. I've been thinking about it for months."

That revelation surprised him into stilling his touch. “Months?"

She shifted her hips, encouraging him to continue his caress. “Months."

He lowered his mouth to hers, tender, seeking as he slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling the stiffened bud of her clitoris. She moaned into his mouth, pressed against his hand, riding it, fucking it, seeking her pleasure.

He broke the kiss and withdrew his fingers. Her eyes flew open, her mouth an “o” of protest as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. She made a hum of pleasure and parted her legs wider in invitation. He began to harden as he looked at her pretty pink flesh. He rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, then scooted her farther back on the desk and bent to slide his tongue over her slick wet cleft.

The sound of pleasure she made echoed off the walls and he lifted his head to shoot her a warning look before bending his head over her again, arms braced on either side of her hips as he lapped at her, drinking in her essence, dipping his tongue into her channel, probing deeper, feeling her muscles contract in pleasure before darting to do a little swirly of his own around her engorged clitoris. He wanted to savor her, just as he had wanted to savor what she did to him, but she was squirming on his desk, making the sexiest little sounds. He sipped her into his mouth, flicking his tongue over her, sliding two fingers into her, then a third, and she came, in a long, slow shudder, her cunt squeezing his fingers, her thigh muscles quivering, her moan gentling into a sigh as she relaxed beneath him.

He withdrew his hand, slid one finger over her bottom lip, slicking her cum over it before lapping it off with his tongue. She blinked up at him with languid eyes and smiled.

"Lunch?” he murmured.

The eyes brightened. “Okay.” She sat slowly, with his help, and he felt her press something into his breast pocket. He glanced down to see a bit of white lace emerging. He pulled it out. Her panties.

He closed his hand around them. “If we keep this up, you're going to run out."

"If we keep this up, I won't need them.” She stretched up to kiss his mouth, her body not touching his, a shy gesture considering what they'd just done. “And I can always go shopping.” She turned toward the door.

"Wait, your hair.” He bent to collect the clip, watched as she swept the mass of blonde hair into a bundle, then clipped it. No longer did he find the style austere, but sexy as hell. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on the soft skin of her throat. How crazy would that make her?

Again she turned.

"Laurie,” he remembered, and reached for the phone. It wouldn't do for Laurie to see Veronica come out of his office when he had been in there alone moments before. He sent Laurie on an errand, looked through the window until she was gone, then gave Veronica another soft kiss and sent her out.

Someone was bound to notice her smelling her hands as she sat at her desk, willing the hands of the clock to move. Never had a morning stretched so long. The orgasm he'd given her shouldn't have whetted her desire but all she could think about was his head bent between her legs. God, the sight had been so sexy, the way he had been so focused, those beautiful thick lashes lowered as his tongue stroked—

No. She had to stop. It was only ten twenty. Maybe he'd suggest an early lunch. He was the boss.

She glanced toward the window into his office and jolted to see him looking back at her. She hadn't realized he'd opened the blinds. He leaned back in his chair and she saw a flash of white in his fist as he lifted his hand to his mouth.

Her panties.

She blushed and glanced down, then looked back to see him smiling at her. Then he leaned forward and pressed a button on the phone and rolled his eyes. No chance of early lunch then.

Eleven o'clock came and went and he remained on the phone. Eleven thirty. Quarter to twelve. The scent of him was so ingrained in her that she no longer had to raise her hands to her face. He still watched her through the glass, and rubbed his finger over his lower lip, his tongue reaching out to touch it. He was still tasting her. A shudder of lust nearly made her spill her bottle of water.

Eleven fifty-three. Eleven fifty-eight.

Twelve-oh-three. Twelve-twelve, and almost everyone had left the office. Two co-workers had stopped by her desk to ask if she wanted to join them and she'd been too distracted to come up with a good excuse. She'd muttered something about grabbing a bite and coming back to work and tried to look busy as she watched the seconds on her computer's clock click by.

And then the office door opened. Veronica jolted and looked up. Vicente glanced around the office, saw it was almost empty and offered her an apologetic lift of his eyebrows before inclining his head toward the exit. She reached into her drawer for her purse.

"You won't need that,” he said.

As she rose to join him, she wondered if they'd go to the hotel down the street, what it would feel like to have him inside her, over her. She wanted his weight on her, his cock filling her, stroking her and she didn't want to wait.

She stumbled and he caught her arm, and didn't release it. Instead, he slid his hand up to grasp her upper arm so that his fingers brushed the side of her breast through her blouse as they walked down the hall to the elevator. She glanced up, but he kept his gaze straight ahead.

When the doors opened with a bing, Veronica's heart sank to see it nearly full with people from other offices also heading to lunch. She'd wanted to get her mouth on Vicente again, wanted to whisper all the thoughts she'd had while waiting for him. She felt a new tension in him as he released her arm to motion her into the elevator ahead of him. Did he feel the same disappointment?