Winston Biggers wanted a woman he couldn't control, nothing like his secretary. May Davenport thought that commanding alpha heroes only existed in her steamy romance novels, the opposite of her uptight boss. But when fate brings these two together, they learn that truth is kinkier than fiction.
Would it be possible to have sex on that thing?
May Davenport licked her lips as she stared at the waist-high laser fax-copier-printer monstrosity, rumored to have been an accomplice in an office tryst. Who knew Hewlett-Packard could be an aphrodisiac, she thought.
Damn, she needed to get a life and get laid if thoughts of sex in the office consumed her time. And she needed to stop reading those damn erotica novels.
Reading them had her believing that the situations contained in them could be possible. Take-charge hunks. Hot, sweaty public sex. Happily ever after. Not in this office building, and not with anyone working here.
May cocked her head as she stared at the machine, as though willing it to share its secrets. Who was on top? Did anything break in the process? If they left the lid open, did it get any good pictures?
The rumor running rampant at Crystal Industries would have the entire twenty-five floors believing that such an act would not only be plausible, but indeed had happened between a junior associate who worked on the second floor and a female executive from the seventeenth floor who was not known to fraternize with anyone below her floor.
Stupid people. Why in the world would they risk their careers for the sake of hot sex? Sure, that kind of arrangement worked out in romance novels. Everything always worked out in those things. But this was real life. And real life had a way of kicking people in their asses.
May could kind of see the lure. The executive had power and the junior guy had hunger, sexual or otherwise, at least that was how another executive assistant from that floor had described the two to May during a good gossip session in the bathroom.
Damn, she needed to get a life.