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All of the men watch us, more specifically me, as we traipse upon the gray carpeted pathway.
    “I suppose everyone in your department has seen my breasts.” I beam at one chubby faced man and he falls out of his chair.
    “I was the last person to be informed,” Henley rumbles. “That won’t happen again.” He waves his passcard at the reception door security box, taps eight digits into the numeric keypad, and presses his thumb against the screen.
    Camille exits. I brush against Henley as I pass through the doorway and heat flares from the points of contact. His eyes darken, his reaction thrilling me. He wants me and I want him.
    “Behave.” His command allows for no disobedience.
    “I’ll try . . . in public.” I give him my sultriest smile.
    “It was nice meeting you, Grant.” I wiggle my fingers at Henley’s receptionist. “You’ll likely be seeing me again soon.”
    “We all look forward to that, Miss Kat.” Grant nods, his eyes sparkling.
    “Don’t encourage him,” Henley grumbles. I’m acutely aware of his proximity, of his seductive body heat, as we walk toward the bank of elevators. He presses the button and the doors open. Camille enters first. She’s suspiciously quiet.
    I step inside, turn and face Henley, wishing I didn’t have to leave him. “You said the shredding rooms have cameras?”
    Henley’s eyes blaze. “Don’t do it.”
    He’ll be watching me. I smile as the elevator doors close. We won’t truly be apart.

 
    Chapter Four
----
    I FACE FORWARD in the elevator, watching the numbers change, a smile on my face. Henley is so easy to tease.
    Camille shifts her weight from her right foot to her left. “Did you know Mr. Henley before you started this job?”
    “Yes.” This isn’t technically a lie. I met him in the park before I started work at Blaine Technologies. “Were you responsible for the security breach?” I glance at her.
    She doesn’t meet my gaze and she doesn’t answer my question. “Thanks for taking the fall for the stairwell incident. Did Mr. Henley give you a tongue-lashing?”
    “You might say that.” I grin, remembering the slide of Henley’s tongue over mine, the taste of his mouth, the press of his firm lips. “I expect I’ll earn quite a few more tongue-lashings while I’m working here.”
    The doors open. Camille and I wander down the hallway. I turn into my office aka the shredding room. Camille goes wherever green-haired interns go.
    Hours pass and I feed the files blindly into the shredder. Jet lag and the emotional toil of the past few days catch up with me. I shred and shred and shred, losing myself in the repetitive motion, my brain numbing and my thoughts stilling. Every time I exit the room to retrieve more boxes, I pass fewer employees, desks clearing and chairs emptying.
    My feet ache. My shoes aren’t designed for hours spent standing in one place. I discard them after the sixth box. There’s no one to see my bare feet, the shredding room now being my exclusive domain. My ears buzz, the noise from the machine increasing the feeling of isolation.
    I’m not alone. The small room is being monitored by security. I stare up at the black camera lens embedded in the far wall.
    Is Henley watching me? I dance in place, the gray industrial carpet rough against the soles of my feet. Is he waiting for me to do something wild, something naughty? I glance around me. There are no other signs of life in the office.
    I take a deep breath, lift my blazer, and expose my bare breasts to the camera. The cool air hits my skin, tightening my nipples. I drop my blazer, covering up once more, and exhale, excited by this small act of rebellion, my pussy moistening.
    Did Henley see me? I press my thighs together. Are all of the men in his department looking at the video feed? I imagine they harden, unable to control their arousal. They yank down their pants and stroke their cocks, their glass offices giving them no privacy. They’re as exposed as I am.
    I