Read Captivated (Stranded) for Free Online Page A

photos of her favorite players, but the internet…?”
    “Goes out with the phone lines.”
    Her lips pursed. “That decides it, then.”
    “What?”
    “We need to have sex all over their desks.”
    Evan choked on his next breath.
    She looked at him and grinned. “Just kidding,” she said and held up the chocolates. “We’re going to make them think we screwed on their desks.”
    “With chocolate,” he managed.
    “Here,” she said, sliding Magda’s paperwork to one end of her desk, her keyboard to the other. “We don’t want to actually damage anything. But yes, chocolate.” She unwrapped a piece. “Hold out your hands.”
    He did, not a thought about it.
    “Oh, wait.” She set the chocolate candy on the desk. Next thing he knew, Laine was unbuttoning his right cuff and rolling up his sleeve. “Let’s not ruin your shirt.”
    Her fingertips felt cool through his shirt as she tuck-tuck-tucked it. Before she could reach for his left arm, he undid the cuff himself and rolled up the sleeve.
    “Hands.”
    He held out his right hand. She placed the bare chocolate in it and swept his left hand up in hers. She pushed his palms together, trapping the chocolate between them. “Melt it,” she said.
    Long after she took her hands away to unwrap her own candy, the cool, dry sensation of her bare fingers remained on the skin of his good hand. Soon she stood before him, her hands rolling a chocolate between them.
    “We look like were praying,” she said.
    “I am, kind of.”
    “Oh?”
    Avoiding her eyes, he studied his hands. The chocolate had melted, coating his palms and fingers until nothing solid remained. Just like the floor under his feet.
    Laine held up her hands. “Ready?”
    Hell yes.
    Hell no.
    Fuck.
    With a foot, she rolled Magda’s chair away. Then she sat on the desk, scooting her ass back until the bend of her knees stopped her. Carefully, she pressed one chocolaty hand to the back of Magda’s monitor, conscientiously avoiding the vents. Her other hand settled flat on the desktop beside her, inches from her skirt.
    “Step up,” she said, and he wondered if she meant the double meaning.
    Willing his dick to stay the fuck down, he stepped between her knees.
    “Closer.”
    He shuffled until his thighs touched the edge of the desk. She shifted, and the movement caused her knees to squeeze his legs. She was going to kill him.
    “Now lean over me and put your hands on the desk. Press them nice and flat. We want a good print.”
    Slowly, he leaned forward. She moved to give him a little room but she could only go so far. Orange blossoms bloomed under his nose and mingled with melted chocolate, and he had the insane thought that if he ducked his head into the V of her blouse, right there where the curve of her breast rose toward him, that that’s what she would taste like. His dick swelled with painful speed. He shifted, trying to avoid her and her clothes, to keep his balance. He managed to get one hand down, and then everything went to shit. That hand slipped, causing him to lurch into her. His other hand skidded slickly off the desk as her legs closed around his. The pressure pulled him into her, and his next breath, stuttered nose to nose, found them pressed together from tits to cock.
    A cock that was not staying the fuck down.
    Her mouth opened on a gasp. He was too close, her eyes said, his creepy face was too close, and his damned dick—
    “Sorry,” he said and pulled away, struggling to straighten and keep his hands free of her.
    She came up on elbows first and looked over her shoulder at the big smears of chocolate his hands had made on the desktop. When she turned back to him, she had recovered admirably. “Looks…vigorous.”
    He rubbed his sticky hands together, wanting to run but unable to move.
    “Hey.” Her voice sounded muffled, like right after his accident.
    He noted somewhere distant in his mind that the backs of his hands looked the same in chocolate.
    “Evan?”
    A note