He cottons on to her plan

A look of realization flashed across his face as he looked around at her. Brooke's eyes darted to his lips, mere inches from hers, and she leaned in ever so slightly. A moment later, their mouths joined, and Brooke felt her heart pounding in her ears as they kissed. His hand brushed her cheek, and she melted into his arms, drowning in his closeness.

Brooke found herself in his lap, running her hands over his muscled chest, when she next came up for air. His hands were at her hips, and there was a fiery glint in his eyes that told her all she needed to know. A nervous smile crept onto her lips, and she began toying with the button of her blouse, holding his gaze. She unbuttoned it slowly, tantalizingly, daring him to look down as she exposed more and more skin.

Somehow, he endured long enough for her to throw the blouse to the floor, but then both his gaze and his hands went to her bra-encased breasts. Even as his hands were occupied there, he leaned in and started laying kisses along her collarbone. Brooke gasped, every fiber of her being screaming for him to take her. She clutched the back of his head, pulling him closer, holding him to her, then reached behind her back and unclipped her bra with a click.

It was like she had thrown a switch. Suddenly, their clothes were disappearing under the desk and their hands were exploring each other's bodies like there was no tomorrow. His hands were on her legs, her breasts, her ass, and Brooke trembled with heat, gasping and moaning. Somewhere along the way, she slid his pants down, freeing his rock hard cock. Pressing up against it, she moaned as she imagined it inside her.

She didn't have to imagine for long. With a grunt, he lifted her up before sliding her down onto him. Brooke was so wet that it was completely buried in that one movement, knocking the wind from her lungs in the best way possible. Breathless, she smiled at him with heavy-lidded eyes and started to rock her hips, sending tremors of pleasure through both of them.

He smiled back, giving her ass a squeeze. She giggled, then moaned as he began lapping at her nipple. Waves of delightful bliss washed through her as she continued rocking, undulating, and grinding in his lap.

"Oh God, you're gorgeous," he husked into her ear. Brooke shivered. His voice was so smooth, so alluring, that she nearly came then and there.

Instead, they climaxed almost simultaneously. Their cries of pleasure mingled as he shot his seed into her, and she finished herself off with a vigorous rub of her clit as her body writhed.

"Oh fuck," Brooke whispered, steadying herself against his chest. "That was ..."

"Yeah," he gasped. He smiled at her, that utterly contented smile that only came after a great night's sleep or an exquisite fuck. She glowed with the knowledge that she had been the one to put that smile there. "Tissue?" he asked, opening a drawer and handing her a kleenex.

"Thanks," she said, sliding off him and starting to clean herself up. Then she looked back at the drawer with a smirk on her lips. "Why do you have a box of tissues in a secret drawer?"

He sheepishly avoided her gaze. "No reason ... No reason at all."

A knock on the door made Brooke nearly leap out of her skin. She turned to him, colour draining from her flushed cheeks. "The meeting," she hissed.

His eyes widened. Then he snapped into action. "Two minutes," he yelled as he tossed her knickers to her and began hurriedly pulling on his own clothes.

"Cover story?" she murmured as she clipped on her bra.

"Uhh ... You were helping me dictate an email," he suggested, buttoning up his shirt.

She pointed at one of his buttons, which was done up incorrectly. "You've skipped one, and that's no reason to delay a meeting. What about if your calendar went down and I had to copy it in by hand?"

He fixed the button and began tying his tie. "That's perfect," he smiled. Brooke blushed at the compliment, fixing her miniskirt and glancing at him. Then she hurried over to the door. "Wait," he said. "Take a breath."

Brooke nodded and inhaled slowly, before letting go of the tension. Instantly she felt more relaxed. Opening the door for the gentleman outside, she tried to stay calm as his eyes flitted to her.

"Sorry about that, my calendar glitched out," he said, welcoming the man in. "Take a seat, please. Thank you, Brooke, that will be all."

"Of course, sir," she said, glancing back at him as she slipped out. His eyes glittered alluringly, and she felt her heart leap.

So far, I have only referred to the boss as "him", to allow you to imagine whoever you want. I'll be continuing the story of Brooke and Cameron Ntenga, a 31-year-old black British divorcee who founded his own company straight out of university, and has since grown it into a small but lucrative business.

However, if you have been imagining someone else, or want to create your own branch, write a chapter! Or you can leave a comment here to inspire someone else.