The question surprised me, but I’d been drilling myself lately on questions for job hunting and knew the answer. “Eighty.”

“What are your strengths and weaknesses?”

He disappeared behind me, breaking my concentration. I could turn my head to see him but kept my gaze on the desk as I answered the commonplace interview question. “Attention to detail, and dedication to get a job done no matter what.”

A chuckle came from behind me at the obviously rehearsed answer. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I started to reply but was startled into silence as a hand slid up my thigh, sneaking beneath my skirt and over my ass before pulling away. I swallowed, my breath ragged, but still managed to respond. “Finishing law school preferably, or in a job I love.”

That got me a “Hm” but silence otherwise. My pulse increased and I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself under control. It was just like on the elevator – one touch and I was lost, my body craving his contact.

“What would you consider your dream job?”

Fingers slid between my thighs, running along the thin cotton of my panties, and a moan escaped my mouth. My hips pressed down seeking more contact but again the hand disappeared and I bit back a groan. The respite allowed me to gather my thoughts to answer, although it was difficult. “Some place where I mattered and helped people.”

“Good answer,” he murmured, then the hand was back pressing at the soft flesh between my legs, turning me into a writhing mess. My palms pressed down on the desk, nails digging into the cool wood as I felt a rush of heat in my belly. A hand smoothed over my back and down one hip as the fingers continued to tease and torment me. I kept my trembling arms on the desk as something hard pressed against my backside. The fingers finally moved beneath the panties and pressed inside me, sliding easily along the wet folds. I choked on another cry, trying and failing for silence.