Chapter 3: Monday Morning Tension
Avery's fingers trembled as she swiped her badge at the office entrance. two days had passed since Friday night, and she still couldn't shake the memory of Blake's hands on her body, his voice rough with desire as he'd claimed her in that elevator.
She'd spent the weekend alternating between reliving every moment and panicking about Monday morning. How were they supposed to act normal? How could she sit across from him in meetings and pretend she didn't know exactly how he sounded when he came?
The elevator ride to her floor felt endless. Every surface reminded her of Friday night. The emergency stop button seemed to mock her, and she found herself staring at the spot on the wall where Blake had pressed her against it. Her body heated at the memory of his mouth on her skin, his hands exploring every inch of her.
"Get it together," she whispered to herself as the doors opened.
The morning staff meeting was torture. Blake entered the conference room looking perfectly composed in his charcoal suit, not a hair out of place. But when his eyes met hers across the table, the heat in them made her pulse race. For a split second, his professional mask slipped, and she saw the hunger there.
"The Miller presentation went well," he said, his voice steady and professional. "Avery's revisions were exactly what we needed."
She managed a polite nod, hoping no one could see the flush creeping up her neck. When their hands accidentally touched while reaching for the same document, Blake's fingers lingered against hers for just a second too long before he pulled away, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
"Excuse me," Avery said, needing space. She grabbed her coffee mug and headed for the break room, aware of Blake's eyes following her movement.
In the break room, she tried to calm her racing heart. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Blake's face as he'd thrust into her, heard his voice commanding her to come for him. Her hands shook as she poured fresh coffee, the memory making her body respond all over again.
The rest of the morning crawled by. Every email notification made her jump, wondering if it was from him. Every phone call had her checking caller ID. She caught herself staring at his office door, remembering the taste of whiskey on his lips and the feel of his hands unbuttoning her shirt.
Her productivity was shot. She read the same email three times without processing it. She started a report twice and deleted it both times. All she could think about was Blake's mouth on her breast, his fingers between her legs, the way he'd filled her so completely.
At ten thirty, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
Need your input on the Wilson proposal. My office.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. The Wilson proposal wasn't due for another week. This wasn't about work, and they both knew it.
Avery smoothed her skirt and checked her reflection in her computer screen before walking to Blake's office. Her legs felt unsteady, her body already responding to the thought of being alone with him. His assistant waved her through without question.
Blake stood behind his desk, looking out the window at the scenery. He didn't turn when she entered, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were clasped behind his back.
"Close the door," he said quietly.
The click of the lock seemed to echo in the sudden silence. Blake finally turned, and the professional mask slipped completely. His eyes were dark with the same hunger she remembered from Friday night, but there was something else there too. Need. Raw, desperate need.
"I couldn't focus all weekend," he admitted, stepping around his desk. "All I could think about was you."
"Blake, we agreed..." she started, but her protest died when he moved closer.
"We agreed what happens after hours stays after hours," he said, stopping just out of reach. "But I didn't agree to pretend it didn't happen."
"We're at work," she reminded him, though her body was already responding to him. She could smell his cologne, see the way his shirt stretched across his chest, remember what he looked like without it.
"The door is locked," he replied, his voice dropping to that rough tone that made her knees weak. "And I need to know you felt it too."
"Felt what?"
"That it wasn't enough." Blake stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Avery's breath caught. She should step back, maintain professional boundaries. Instead, she found herself swaying toward him.
"Tell me you haven't thought about it," he challenged, his eyes never leaving hers. "Tell me you haven't replayed every second of me inside you."
She couldn't lie. Not when he was looking at her like that, not when her body was already humming with awareness, not when she could feel herself alreeady getting wet.
"I have," she whispered.
Blake's smile was purely male satisfaction. "Good. Because I have plans for you."
"What kind of plans?" she asked, her voice breathier than she'd intended.
"The kind that involve you naked in my bed," he said bluntly. "The kind that involve me taking my time with you instead of rushing in an elevator."
Heat flooded through her at his words. "Blake..."
Before she could say more, his phone rang. The shrill sound shattered the moment, and Blake cursed under his breath.
"Carter," he answered, never taking his eyes off her.
Avery used the interruption to put distance between them, moving to the window where he'd been standing. But she could feel his gaze on her, could hear the impatience in his voice as he handled whatever business was calling. Her body was wound tight, needing release that wasn't coming.
"We'll continue this later," he said quietly after ending the call.
"Blake..."
"Later, Avery." His tone was firm but heated. "Don't think this conversation is over."
She fled his office, her heart racing and her body wound tight with unfulfilled desire. The rest of the morning passed in a daze. She kept checking the clock, wondering when "later" would come.
At lunch, Avery sat with Megan from HR in the company cafeteria, picking at her salad while Megan chatted about weekend plans. But Avery's mind was elsewhere, replaying Blake's words about having her naked in his bed.
"You seem distracted today," Megan observed, studying Avery over her sandwich. "Everything okay?"
"Just tired," Avery lied. "Long week."
"Hmm." Megan's eyes narrowed slightly. "You and Mr. Carter seem different today too."
Avery's fork froze halfway to her mouth. "Different how?"
"During the staff meeting. The way you two kept looking at each other." Megan leaned forward conspiratorially. "Like you were having a completely different conversation with your eyes."
Heat flooded Avery's cheeks. If only Megan knew how right she was.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Avery said quickly. "We weren't acting any different than normal."
"If you say so." But Megan's expression suggested she wasn't buying it. "Though I have to say, there's definitely some tension there. The good kind."
"Megan..."
"I'm just saying, the man looks at you like he wants to devour you. And you get this look on your face whenever he's around, like you're thinking about something very unprofessional."
Avery nearly choked on her water. "That's ridiculous," she managed.
"Is it?" Megan grinned. "Because if I didn't know better, I'd say something definitely happened between you two."
"We need to get back," Avery said, standing abruptly. "I have a busy afternoon."
"Avoiding the question," Megan noted with a knowing smile. "Interesting."
The afternoon dragged endlessly. Every time Avery's phone buzzed, her pulse spiked. Every time someone knocked on her office door, she expected to see Blake. But he stayed conspicuously absent, leaving her wound tighter than a spring.
She tried to work, tried to focus on spreadsheets and reports. But her body was still craving his touch. She kept shifting in her chair, the fabric of her underwear rubbing against her sensitive skin, reminding her of how wet she'd gotten just from his words.
At four thirty, her phone chimed with another text.
Wilson proposal needs immediate attention. Come now.
This time, Avery didn't hesitate. She grabbed a notepad to maintain appearances and walked to Blake's office, her heart pounding with each step. His assistant had already left for the day, which meant they would be completely alone.
Blake's door was closed. Avery knocked once before entering, finding him standing by the windows again. But this time, when he turned, there was no hesitation, no pretense of business.
"Lock it," he said.
She turned the lock and faced him. The air in the room crackled with tension so thick she could practically taste it.
"There is no Wilson proposal, is there?" she asked.
"No." Blake moved toward her with predatory grace. "I needed to see you. Alone."
"Blake, this is dangerous. People will notice if I keep coming to your office."
"Then we'll have to be creative." He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch but not quite making contact. "Tell me you don't want this."
She couldn't. Not when her body was already responding to his nearness, not when she'd been thinking about him for two straight days, not when she was already wet and aching for his touch.
"I want it," she admitted. "But we can't keep doing this at work."
"We can do whatever we want," Blake said, his hand coming up to cup her face. His thumb traced her cheekbone, and she leaned into the touch like a cat seeking warmth. "I'm the CEO, remember?"
"That's exactly why we can't," Avery protested, even as she leaned into his touch. "The gossip..."
"Let me worry about that." His thumb traced her lower lip, and she had to resist the urge to suck it into her mouth. "Right now, I only care about this."
He kissed her then, soft and coaxing at first, then deeper when she responded. Avery melted into him, her hands fisting in his shirt. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting and claiming, and she responded with equal hunger.
Blake walked her backward until her legs hit his desk. His hands found her waist, lifting her to sit on the polished wood surface. Papers scattered, pens rolled to the floor, but neither of them cared.
"I've been thinking about Friday night," he murmured against her lips. "About how you felt. How you tasted."
His words sent heat rushing through her, pooling between her legs. "Blake..."
"I want more," he said, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. "I want all of you."
His fingers traced the edge of her panties, and Avery gasped at the contact. She was already so wet, so ready for him.
"You're soaked," he observed, his voice rough with approval. "Just from this?"
"Just from you," she admitted breathlessly.
Blake's eyes darkened. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, finding her slick and swollen. "Fuck, you're perfect."
He stroked her slowly, teasingly, while his mouth found her neck. Avery's head fell back, her hands clutching at his shoulders as pleasure built within her.
"I want to make you come on my desk," Blake whispered against her throat. "I want to hear you scream my name where anyone could walk by."
The thought should have terrified her, but instead it sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. The danger, the risk of discovery, only made it more exciting.
"What if someone hears?" she gasped as his fingers found her clit, circling it with perfect pressure.
"Then they'll know you're mine," he said, his voice possessive and rough.
Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps in the hallway made them both freeze. Blake's hand stilled between her legs as they listened to someone approaching.
A knock came at the door. "Mr. Carter?" came a voice from the other side. "I need to speak with you about the Peterson contract."
Blake cursed silently, his jaw clenching with frustration. But his hand remained between her legs, his fingers still pressed against her most sensitive spot.
"Give me five minutes," Blake called out, his eyes never leaving Avery's face.
"Of course, sir."
They waited in tense silence until the footsteps retreated. Blake's thumb moved against her clit, making her gasp quietly.
"Don't move," he whispered. "I'm not done with you."
But the moment was broken. Avery slid off the desk, smoothing her skirt and trying to calm her racing heart. Her body was wound so tight she could barely think straight.
"We can't keep doing this here," she said again, her voice shaky with need.
"You're right." Blake straightened his tie, though his eyes still burned with unsatisfied desire. "But I'm not giving this up. Not giving you up."
"Then what do you suggest?"
Blake's smile was wicked, full of promise. "Same time as Friday night. My place this time."
Before Avery could respond, he was moving toward the door. "I'll text you the address."
She watched him unlock the door and stride out to meet the colleague, leaving her alone in his office with the lingering scent of his cologne and the promise of Friday night hanging in the air.
The rest of the afternoon passed by quickly. True to his word, Blake texted her an address in one of Chicago's most exclusive neighborhoods.
Friday night. 8 PM. I'll fix dinner.
When five o'clock arrived, she packed up her things slowly, waiting for the office to empty. Blake had left an hour earlier, claiming an off-site meeting. But she knew where he'd really gone, knew he was probably at home right now planning their Friday night encounter.
The building was nearly deserted when she finally headed to the elevator. Only a few stragglers remained, and the executive floor was completely empty. She pressed the button for the garage level, trying to steady her breathing.
Just as the doors began to close, a hand shot out to stop them. Blake stepped inside, still in his suit but with his tie loosened and his shirt collar unbuttoned. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he'd been running his hands through it.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice low and intimate in the enclosed space.
"Home," she replied.
"Funny. So am I." Blake reached past her and pressed the emergency stop button.
The elevator jolted to a halt, and Avery's breath caught. "Here? Again?"
"I couldn't wait until Friday night," Blake admitted, backing her against the wall. "I've been hard for you all day, thinking about what I was going to do to you on my desk before we were interrupted."
His confession sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs. "Someone could..."
"Everyone's gone," he interrupted, his hands already reaching for her. "It's just us."
Blake's mouth found hers in a kiss that was pure hunger. two days of tension exploded between them as his hands roamed her body with desperate need. Avery responded with equal fervor, her fingers working at his shirt buttons while his hands pushed up her skirt.
"I need you," he groaned against her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. "Right now. I can't wait another second."
"Yes," she gasped, already lost to sensation. "God, yes."
Blake's hands made quick work of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He lifted her against the wall, and Avery wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him hard and ready against her center.
"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his eyes dark with desire and need.
"I want you," she breathed. "I've wanted you all weekend, all day. I can't think about anything else."
Blake positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her with just the tip. "I've been thinking about being inside you again. About making you come on my cock."
"Please," she begged, trying to push down onto him. "Don't tease me."
"Next time, I'm taking you to my bed," he promised, his voice rough with restraint. "I'm going to spend hours learning every inch of your body. I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your own name."
"Next time," she agreed breathlessly. "But right now I need you inside me."
Blake thrust into her with one smooth, powerful stroke, filling her completely. They both groaned at the sensation, the feeling of being joined again after two days of desperate wanting.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he breathed against her ear. "So tight, so perfect."
He began to move, slow at first, then with increasing urgency as their need took over. Avery met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body singing with pleasure.
"Harder," she demanded, and he complied immediately, his movements becoming more forceful, more desperate.
The sound of their bodies coming together filled the small space, punctuated by their gasps and moans. Blake's mouth found her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin while he drove into her.
"You like this, don't you?" he asked, his voice rough with exertion. "You like being fucked in the elevator where anyone could catch us."
"Yes," she gasped, the dirty talk only heightening her arousal. "I love it. I love how you feel inside me."
Blake's hand slid between them, finding her clit and circling it with perfect pressure. "Come for me," he commanded. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
The combination of his words, his touch, and his relentless thrusts pushed Avery over the edge. She cried out as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her body clenching rhythmically around him as her orgasm took her.
Blake followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried himself deep inside her with a groan of satisfaction. They stayed connected for long moments, both shaking from the intensity of their encounter.
Blake slowly lowered her to the floor, helping her straighten her clothes with gentle hands. His touch was tender now, caring, so different from the desperate passion of moments before.
"Friday night," he said when he could finally speak, his forehead pressed against hers. "My place. No interruptions, no rushing. I'm going to take my time with you."
Avery nodded, still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. "Friday night."