Free Purely Professional by Elia Winters Page A

hypothetical. He finished typing and looked up again. “All right. What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”
    Bridget thought for a moment. “I fucked a boyfriend in a park once.”
    “During the day?” He looked up with interest.
    “No. It was night.”
    Max went back to typing. “All right.” At last he set the laptop aside, along with his glasses. He sat back down beside her on the couch again. For a while, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her with that keen, penetrating stare. She remained tense, waiting, knowing more was coming. When he cupped her face again, hand sliding from her jaw to the back of her neck, she licked her lips, which seemed to have gone dry. What had seemed harmless a moment before now seemed much more serious.
    When at last he spoke, his voice was low, almost whispering. “When you touch yourself, do you ever think of me?”
    Bridget looked at him sharply and opened and closed her mouth several times. Max didn’t break eye contact, daring her to lie. She refused to look away, even as she felt the blush creeping up her neck.
    “Yes.”
    “What was I doing to you?” His hand was still in her hair, his face very close.
    “You pinned me down and…fucked me.” Her voice was barely audible, and she was unwilling to look away despite her embarrassment. She swallowed.
    “And did you like being pinned down?” Max’s other hand was on her thigh again. “Did you like feeling helpless?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, admitting it to him—to herself, for whatever that might mean. Her eyes were drawn to his lips, which still wore a hint of a smile.
    “Do you fantasize about this sort of thing often?” He brushed his thumb over her neck, and she shivered slightly at the contact.
    “Yes.” It felt freeing to admit it, even as she wondered what would come of telling him.
    He moved closer, closing the distance between them, and she could feel his breath on her skin. “You should really close your blinds. Anyone could have seen you.”
    Before she had even processed what he said, he covered her mouth with his. Bridget gasped in surprise, her whole body liquefying, heat spiraling from her core as his tongue traced her lips, coaxing them to open further. He explored her steadily, lazily, as if he could do this for hours. His hands closed around her wrists and pressed them to the couch at her sides, holding her in place as he leisurely, thoroughly kissed her. She moved slightly and he tightened his grip on her wrists, keeping her pinned there, and it was hard to catch her breath as the intensity washed over her. She let out a soft moan into his mouth and arched, pressing her breasts against his chest. Max made some kind of rough sound in return, a groan that seemed accidental, and after another moment, he pulled away. Feeling drugged, Bridget blinked heavy-lidded eyes up at him.
    Max looked down to where she was digging her nails into the leather, her hands still imprisoned by his. He studied her flushed face, the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
    “You know, Bridget, this just might work.” With a wink, he released her and sat back. She tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding, feeling for the first time like she might have gotten herself in deeper than she could handle.
    “Are you working tomorrow?” he asked. “Do you work Thursdays? I don’t know your schedule.”
    “I go into the office on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. The other days I work from home.”
    “Wear a skirt tomorrow. And your garter belt and pantyhose. No underwear.”
    She gaped at him, pulling back slightly. “To work?”
    “To work,” he repeated. “I want you thinking all day about the terrible things I’m going to do to you.”
    She nodded, hypnotized.
    “Go on home now, Bridget,” Max said, his voice rough and low and a little dangerous. His tone promised a lot more to come.
    She stood on unsteady legs and walked toward the door, Max following close behind. “Oh, and one other