Just then, Kevin steps into my cube and firmly motions that he has to talk to me.

“Ugh, hold on,” I say to Brooke.

“What’s up?” I ask Kevin, relieved that he doesn’t seem to notice how flustered I am.

He looks irritated. “You’re late for the production calendar meeting.” He points to the production room down the hall.

“Do we have a meeting scheduled? I didn’t hear about it.”

He nods.

Shit, I must be losing it…now I’m forgetting meetings.

I hear Brooke sigh into the phone.

But I know my priorities. “Hey Kevin, can you take notes for me. I have an important issue with…” My mind reels. “…with my insurance and HR needs to talk to me right now.”

“Yes, it’s a very important issue” Brooke echoes in the phone. “….a critical meeting. Don’t be late, Mr. Evans.”

Kevin nods, and walks off.

“I’m on my way,” I assure her.

My pulse speeds up as I wander down the abandoned hallway. I think these offices were used recently when we had two other shows in production. Although our posters still hang on the walls, now this place is a ghost town.

But when I peek my head in the last room, I see Brooke standing in front of the big picture window, looking out over the view. “Brooke,” I call out just loud enough for her to hear. It’s weird to be in this huge conference room, especially since I know what kind of meeting this is going to be. I’m fully aroused in anticipation.

She turns and points to the chair at the head of the table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I step closer, watching her eyes as they move over me. At this point, my excitement’s quite evident, and although she doesn’t say anything, her eyes do widen at the sight of me.

As I approach the chair, she slowly passes me and closes the door, then turns the lock. The clicking sound when the lock settles makes my heart skip. I settle into the chair and wait. Every hair on my body is standing on end.

She strolls back very slowly, considering me. She steps close enough to almost graze my knee, then leans back, her ass on the edge of the table. She folds her arms and gives me a business-y look that confuses me.

“Is that look on your face burning desire or are you still agitated about my meeting with Lazlo?”

“Maybe some of both,” I admit.

“I want to ask you about your reaction to him again. I wasn’t flirting with Lazlo. It was business. So why were you jealous?” she asks.

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Her demeanor reminds me of a kitty batting around a mouse with her paws before she pounces.

“No, I really want to understand.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” I reply simply.

“Really? And how was that?”

“Like he wanted to breathe on you and chop down your tree.”

“Chop down my tree?”

“He looks like a fucking lumberjack.”

“Oh, Nathan.” She smiles and slowly shifts her legs towards me. “But don’t you understand you’re the only one I want. I’m going to be doing business with men; it’s what I do. But that doesn’t have any reflection on my love and desire for you.”

“I guess I forget sometimes,” I admit.

“You’re always so nice, so accommodating. I think it’s time for you to toughen up.”

I feel like we’re talking about something else all of a sudden. Like Brooke is subtly training me for the battles we may face up ahead. She studies me for a moment, but then her expression shifts to a warm gaze. “Besides, it’s hot to see this side of you. You know it’s okay to be more assertive about what you want. It’s good for you.”

“Okay…I’m going to be assertive from now on.”

“Good, handsome. And you know what else?”

“No, what?”

“It makes me kinda crazy for you…right now I feel like I’m burning up inside.”

If she’s burning, I’m a raging fire. I swallow hard and try to calm myself.

She gives me a sexy smile. “So, tell me…what do you want…right now?”

“I want what you want…this,” I fumble, gesturing between us.

“This?” she asks, like she needs clarification. “I want you to be more specific.”

I look back at the conference room door, making sure it’s still closed.

More specific…okay, here goes.

“Well for one thing, I want to see more of you,” I say smiling as I gesture towards her chest. I look up at her to gauge her reaction. She’s completely non-flustered.

Brooke looks pleased as she glances down at her shirt and nods. “You know this shirt has snaps. Why don’t you just rip it open?”

“Really?”

She nods and gives me the look. “I want you to rip open my blouse…come on…do it, Nathan.”

I lean in toward her and press my fingers into where her shirt comes together. I curl my fingers over the fabric, imagine I’m Superman and pull with force. The shirt explodes open and I hear her take a sharp breath.

I swallow hard. “Wow,” I whisper. I look up at her and she has a sultry expression. It’s clear she’s excited. My gaze trails down to her breasts, so hypnotizing in the sheer shimmering bra. My fingers flex anxiously wanting to touch her, but I realize that I should ask for something else. I picture Brooke in my mind, running her hands over her curves, cupping her softness as she gazes at me.

“I want you to touch your breasts,” I say boldly.

Brooke makes a show of it as she glides her fingers over her creamy skin. I notice her nipples harden under her circling fingers. She lets out a low moan as she watches me intently.

“Like this?”

I nod. Just like that.

As she pinches her nipples she looks up at me and drags her tongue along her bottom lip. “And what would you like me to do now?”

I reach up and place my hands at the top of her arms, not sure the best way to ask. I pause, and look down before I finally find my courage.

“I want you on your knees,” I say in an unsteady voice.

As she sinks down, I press lightly on her shoulders. But really she’s the one controlling the momentum. Once she’s on the floor she looks up at me, waiting for me to continue.

“Touch me,” I whisper, struggling not to be embarrassed.

She gently runs hers hands up my thighs and then settles over where I’m hard and pressed tight against my jeans. When her fingers press down, I shudder.

“Brooke,” I moan.

“Can I open this up?” she asks, as her fingers linger over the fly. “I need more.”

“Uh huh,” I respond, my heart pounding.

She teases, working slowly until her hand pulls the fabric apart and she grasps my hard-on. I close my eyes as her hand moves over me. With my eyes shut, I’m acutely aware of the symphony of sensations: the warmth of her fingers, the softness of her breasts pressed against my knees, and the quickening pace of her breath as her hand tightens and finds its slow rhythm.

She suddenly stops and waits, still as can be.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” she challenges.

“Tell me?”

“Tell me what you want.” She looks determined, unyielding. “Or maybe you aren’t so sure what you want.”

Why’s she challenging me? But then I start to understand that she needs this from me. It’s important for her to see how strong I can be with her, without my costume on. “I know what I want,” I assure her. “I always know what I want.”

“Really?” she smirks playfully.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I point out.

“Anything else?”

I know my face is bright red, but I try to ignore the flustered feeling of being embarrassed to ask for things that keep me up at night in my ever expanding world of Brooke fantasies. I clear my throat and look her in the eye. “I want your mouth on me.”

She looks pleased, like a kid who got exactly what she asked for on Christmas morning. I see a flash of lust in her eyes before she takes me in her mouth. She circles her tongue over me until I have no sense of time or space, just Brooke. But then she pauses and continues with the damn talking. “See that wasn’t so hard?” she points out as she shakes her head defiantly.