Suddenly, something inside him snapped. He'd been fantasying about being with her in a situation like this from the day she'd started to work for him. Now, he couldn't wait any longer. With her back facing him, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her luscious ass full against his cock.
"Mr. Johnson," she screeched.
"For God's sake, call me Clay," he murmured. Incredibly, he felt her butt cheeks flexing. The result created a natural canal that measured him like a leather glove. He lowered his head and nibbled on her neck. It was like tasting ambrosia. He'd been dying to find out if the scent she wore day in and day out at the office was bottled or something else.
As a wave of cinnamon and spice drifted over him, he knew the smell was uniquely Eliza. Over the year-and-a-half she'd worked for him, he'd found himself waking up in the middle of the night with a raging hard-on with that exact smell lingering through his mind.
When she gasped and tilted her neck to give his mouth better access, he took advantage, nibbling his way from her ear lobe down to the tender indentation of her shoulder. At the same time, his hands moved up from her waist and gently stroked the edges of her breasts. Even through her sweater, he could feel the wonderful weight of them. Her hand moved and rubbed through his hair at the crown of his head. He raised his head. He had to give her one chance to stop things before it was too late. If she said no now, he didn't know how he'd handle it, but he knew he had to give her the chance.
"Eliza," he said, turning her so she faced him. "You make the choice."
Her eyes were glorious, luminous with her desire. He felt hope burgeoning along with every thing else south of his border.
"On the rug or in the bed?" she purred.
)
