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With one of his hands, he held her leg up, giving him more leverage to plow deeper. Damn, he loved her.
    As the pleasure and soft pain of her climax arrived, Kenyatta’s entire body became rigid and her pussy clamped down on his cock.
    “Doran! Oh! SHIT!” Kenyatta purred.
    Doran plunged in more, slamming deep inside her. The pressure of her orgasm milked his shaft.  Kenyatta’s shuddering around him pushed him over the edge. Sputtering and jerking, Doran hit his pinnacle. Panting, he gently placed her leg down and held her close to him. His pulsating cock still rested inside her.
    After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Kenyatta leaned up on her elbow. He couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness, but he could hear her smile in her voice. He nuzzled her neck. She giggled and spooned closer to him. Doran used his free hand to toss a blanket over their nakedness.
    “Wow. That was just… Wow.”
    “Surely, you’ve made love before,” Doran teased, and slapped her playfully on the ass.
    “Yes. But not like that. Not with you.”
    “From now on, it’s only me .”
    “Yes, Doran. Only you.”
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Monday arrived with chilly winds and overcast and moody clouds that bullied their way across the sky. Few cars filled the CAKE parking lot. Upstairs in the employee break room, Kenyatta stood in front of three boxy, square vending machines that wouldn’t satisfy her craving. The hottie beside the last vending machine—well he could do the trick. Doran.
    “You enjoy the party?” he asked.
    “I really enjoyed it,” Kenyatta said politely, noting his eyes were locked on her chest.
    Alone in the break room, she and Doran sipped coffee. The oatmeal and blueberry yogurt didn’t settle in her stomach. Each time she met his gaze, everything tightened. The memory of him ghosted across her skin. Swallowing a moan, she took another big sip—admittedly her caffeine vice didn’t quell her new one—loving Doran. Now each day of work would be eight hours of foreplay. She wasn’t sure she could take it.
    “I hate making small talk. All I want to do is kiss you.”
    “That would be nice. It’ll also wake me up in ways this coffee can’t,” she said.
    Doran laughed. “You’re right, lass.”
    Se liked the horny husk his voice became when he was aroused. They inched closer together. The break room faded. He leaned in close to kiss her. With her heart on automatic, she closed her eyes, gripped her travel cup hard, and waited for the electrifying shock of his kiss. An eternity came and went, but the kiss didn’t come.
    “Good morning to you, Brice. How’re sales?” Doran said.
    “Good. I might get the Thomason account,” Brice answered.
    Kenyatta paused. Brice Middleton used a word she’d never thought she’d hear him say: might. The usually overly confident Brice had always been the most despised salesman at CAKE. The most successful too.
    Then Kenyatta’s eyes snapped open. Sugar! She almost kissed Doran smack dab in the center break room! She had her back to the door.
    “You pick something, Kenyatta?” Doran added, a hint of humor in his tone.
    She blushed as she caught his eye. His casual attempt to explain why she stood at the machines made her feel warm all over. But this was one of the reasons she didn’t want a workplace romance.  Sure she feared the feedback, but she didn’t regret it.
    “Thank you,” Kenyatta said to Doran. “Nothing here is any good.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Doran replied. The blazing intent rolled around each word.
    Kenyatta suppressed a sigh. She nodded at Brice. Top salesman for CAKE. He sold more ads and landed more clients than anyone outside of Stephen Silver himself. The man looked like a god—Apollo—all golden tan. Tall, blond with hazel eyes, Brice often landed a whale of female clients. She had no idea why, for a man so fair and golden, Brice carried a very somber cloud over his head. Brooding Brice people called him. The guy had a