Taken aback by her foul language, Grant tried to defend himself. “You need to understand it from my perspective. I could lose my job.”

Isabelle laughed, a throaty sound that, even given the situation, made his balls tighten and his shaft swell. “Oh, that’s good. So it’s okay to fuck the boss’s daughter, but not okay to treat her like a human being afterward? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

"Well…" Said that like, he did sound like a grade ‘A’ asshole, not that he’d ever admit it. His reasons were sound-to him, at least. And this is why one shouldn't sleep with co-workers. One night stands and sexual flings worked best when one didn’t see the other person every day. Grant’s biggest dilemma, though, was that he wanted to see Isabelle again. Memories of being with her consumed him, and if not for the fact that he loved his work more, he’d have already caved. He swallowed. “Listen, I like you Isabelle.”

She snorted.

In spite of her derision, he continued on, “I really like you. But no matter how good Saturday was, it was a mistake. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I don’t want to lose it all because I forgot who you were for a moment. Can’t we just pretend it never happened and continue on in a professional manner?”

“No,” she said, hopping off his desk. She propped a foot on the chair between his thighs and turned him to face her. Then she untied the sash to her coat. “Guess what, Grant?”

“What?” he asked, mesmerized by the movements of her small, pale hands. Hands he remembered wrapping around his shaft, stroking him and guiding him into her moist center. "I don't-"

“There are no intruders. I’m the one who tied you to the chair. Consider this your punishment for being a jerk.” With a wicked smile, she let her coat fall to the floor.

Grant’s eyes almost popped out of his head, while his cock tried to drill a hole through his pants. I’m in trouble.Glorious trouble.