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the corners and found it free of cameras. She circled his desk to stand in front of the monitor and examined his computer. The monitor had a built-in camera. His CPU was still on.
    Could he see her now?
    Deciding she didn’t care if he could see or not, she bit her lip and bent toward the monitor. She pushed her clothing to the side and reached for her purse, which she’d set on the edge of his desk. She dumped its contents and rifled through them.
    When her hand closed around the small fingertip vibrator, she held it in front of the screen and gave the camera a smirk.
    Letting her arousal consume her, she sat in his big leather chair and hit the handle under the seat for the hydraulic lift and raised the chair height. Then she pushed it back, just far enough so that she could lift her feet and plant them against the edge of his desk.
    With her legs braced far apart, her sex was open to the camera. She slipped the vibrator onto her index finger and hit the switch.
    Getting off was easy. Her bottom burned, her pussy had been a constant ache ever since the afternoon meeting when his men had surrounded the table and she’d sat swinging her foot and willing him to notice her.
    Well, he had, at last. And if she was being naughty now, it was his own damn fault—and something he’d have to correct the next time they were together.
    As her finger swirled atop her swollen clit, she let her eyelids droop. She hoped like hell he was watching and was every bit as aroused as she was. As the vibrations hummed against the hardened knot, she rolled her head against the back of his chair, moaning because her body was already convulsing hard, shudders jerking her belly and making her legs quiver.
    She swirled and stroked, drawing out her orgasm as long as she could before she slumped against his chair. Then she slowly opened her eyes. She stared straight into the little eye of the camera at the top of his screen and smiled. “Sleep tight,” she said and blew him a kiss.
    Tomorrow couldn’t come quickly enough.

Chapter Five
    The next afternoon, Bryce sat back and contemplated the chair that he could no longer think of as entirely his own. Raelie had christened it with her arousal. He’d found the white streaks of her girl-cum at the edge of the dark leather when he’d pulled it from beneath the desk that morning. He’d also found the wispy panties she’d wadded in her hand to clean the copier glass. She’d left them in his center drawer.
    Last night, he’d watched the mischievous grin she’d aimed at the camera when she slid open the drawer and turned her hand over to let them fall.
    A gesture of defiance that pleased him at a primal level.
    Something he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind long after he’d switched off his PC and gone to bed. He’d tossed and turned all night, thinking about the wicked, gleeful smile that had entranced him almost as much as the pretty flush that crept across her face when she masturbated herself in this very chair. The unselfconscious way she’d opened her legs and rubbed her little clit to a lovely climax had completely blown him away.
    He held the pink silk to his face and breathed. Her sea-fresh aroma permeated the silk—a scent that was now familiar. He’d breathed her in while he’d driven the short distance home the previous night, sliding his fingers beneath his nose and wishing like hell he’d wet his dick in her scent too.
    His office door swung open without warning. Morgan strode inside followed by Billy Thibodaux, the plaza site foreman and another of his closest friends.
    Morgan spied the scrap of silk in his hand and gave Bryce a sly grin.
    Bryce shoved Raelie’s panties back into the drawer and straightened, eyeing the two men with suspicion. Both his friends looked a little too alert and amused for the visit to be about progress at the work site. At the smirk curving along Morgan’s mouth, he knew his partner had filled Billy in on what had occurred the previous