LYNDA AICHER

Danielle Stables inhaled, eyes closing. She held the breath for a beat before releasing it on a long, slow exhale. She had this.

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The thin straps of her dress slid from her shoulders with nothing more than a light brush and a nimble shrug and roll. The loose baby-doll style was meant for comfort more than appeal, and really didn’t matter since no one would see it. Her nipples puckered when the cooler air hit them. A shiver overtook her as goose bumps chased down her arms.

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She stepped out of the material and laid it over the back of a chair next to her trench coat. The darkness provided a protective barrier from the outside world, which was spread out on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the small conference room. The view was stunning. She barely saw it, yet she was very aware of the wrongness. Being almost naked in a public setting screamed of deviance.

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Energy wound through her in a slow crawl from her toes, up her calves, thighs, past her pussy to her chest and finally her mind. There was such power in secrets. Everyone had them, but few wielded them successfully.

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Most tried to hide them. Stash them away in shame or guilt or fear.

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But not her.

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No, she embraced every damn one of hers.

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The soft ends of her hair tickled her shoulders when she released it from its loose bun. She swiveled her head and let the strands slither between her shoulder blades. She parted her mouth, swept her tongue out to moisten her bottom lip.

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A small bundle of nerves fluttered in her stomach. They twisted around a knot of acceptance that’d been lodged there forever. Long before she’d joined the Boardroom. Years before she’d married and divorced. Eons before she’d risen to the VP level at a prominent Silicon Valley company.

This was simply a beat in time. A night of freedom and release. Of mutual desires shared to the extreme.

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And there was a strength in owning that.

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She rolled her shoulders back, smoothed a hand over her abdomen and let everything go. The stress from the day. The residual nerves. The tension that lined her neck and clenched through her shoulders. The expectations and disappointments.

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She closed her eyes as she dipped her fingers beneath her panties to stroke a single finger over her clit. She sucked in a sharp breath and let the desire spread through her groin. It was just a little tease. A primer for the night ahead.

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The hallway was empty when she exited the conference room. The shadowed darkness and line of closed office doors added to the clandestine aura that tingled over her skin. She strolled the short distance to the boardroom, hips rolling. The decadence of parading through an office building in nothing but her lace panties and heels sunk into her mindset to hum beside the lust.

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A low moan snaked through the air to call her forward. A sultry gasp. A mumbled word she couldn’t understand. Those notes of freedom welcomed her into their fold.

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She stopped in the boardroom doorway, a hand braced on the doorjamb, pulse rising in expectation. She found him in less than a second. A blink, really. On the other side of the long table, leaning against the windows. Arms crossed, shirt gone, the button on his dress slacks undone.

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Her heart hitched, then stalled on her long inhalation.

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She’d skimmed right over the other two couples in the room. They were already deep in the throes of foreplay, clothing mostly discarded, mouths locked together in heated kisses, hands roaming over bared skin.

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The hedonistic indulgence rippled through the semi-darkness to cloak the room in sin and acceptance. There was something dark and edgy that called to her whenever she entered a Boardroom scene. Lush. Bold. Defiant.

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Hers to own.