The door clicked shut behind Damian.

My heart slammed in my chest. I was still bent over Mr. Hale’s desk — chest bare, skirt bunched at my waist, legs shaking and wet from everything he’d just done to me. My boss. My cold, commanding, silver-haired boss… and now his son was standing behind me.

I shouldn’t have been turned on.

But I was soaked.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Damian said, voice smooth and playful. “But this—” he gestured to me, still panting on the ...