Apprehension traveled the length of Tom's spine when he arrived at work on Monday morning and found that Charlotte wasn't at her desk. Immediately, fears of being double-crossed flooded his mind. Drawing closer, he strove to appear nonchalant, but it was almost impossible to hide his relief upon seeing the spreadsheet displayed on her computer monitor.

She'd arrived early and gotten right to work. At that moment, she might have been in the breakroom, or the restroom. Tom fought the ridiculous urge to track her down. Let her come to you, he told himself.

Fifteen minutes later, she did. By that point, he was sitting at his desk, weeding through a barrage of emails. Most of it was garbage, but a few important messages had slipped past him over the weekend. They demanded prompt attention, but the sight of his assistant in the doorway made him disregard all else.

"Good morning," she greeted him with a warm smile.

Quickly looking her up and down, Tom discovered she was utterly unchanged: same hair, same dull wardrobe. Same meek and unassuming demeanor. He inwardly scoffed at himself. Did he really expect her to morph into some seductive vixen after spending a night with him? Charlotte was right; he was an arrogant asshole. 

"Good morning, Charlotte. How was your weekend?" Holding her gaze, Tom dared a knowing grin. 

"Quite eventful," she replied in a breezy tone. "And very satisfying."

With each passing second, Tom grew more convinced that Charlotte would indeed keep her word. The realization made him almost giddy, for he'd spent the previous night mentally preparing for the possibility of losing his job. 

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "As hard as you work, you deserve a satisfying weekend." His playfulness, so uncharacteristic, was a way of thanking Charlotte for her silence. Yet he was also aware that the dynamic of their relationship was being recalibrated during this brief, seemingly meaningless conversation. From this point on, he would think twice before abruptly dismissing her from his office, or before barking out an order for her to follow. 

Tilting her head, Charlotte regarded him curiously. He noticed the slight narrowing of her eyes, which tempted him to avert his own. Would he ever shake the feeling that she could read his thoughts?

Finally, she adjusted her glasses and asked, "Do you need anything before I go back to my desk?"

Your mouth. Your tight pussy. Your nails clawing my back. These responses, forbidden and thus unspoken, weighed upon his tongue. Despite his efforts at compartmentalizing, Charlotte remained the embodiment of lust in his mind. No prim outfit or sweet smile would change that. 

"I'm good, thanks." 

He waited until she left his office before releasing the breath that had been trapped in his lungs. It still seemed unbelievable that Charlotte would have gone to so much trouble simply to satisfy a sexual need, yet her behavior this morning indicated she wanted nothing more from Tom.

It was difficult to concentrate on his work; his thoughts entertained both suspicion and arousal. Half the time, he tried to anticipate a new trap Charlotte might have set for him. The rest of the time, his mind replayed memories of their night together. He found himself wondering if Charlotte was doing the same. Was she, at that very moment, remembering how hard she'd come while he was inside her?

"For fuck's sake," Tom muttered, disgusted with himself. It was sex, nothing more. And thank God for that! She could have demanded candlelit dinners and a fairytale romance. She might have desired things he couldn't possibly give her.

There was no denying that Charlotte had him by the balls as soon as she'd discovered those messages on his phone. She'd let him off easy. 

It was late morning before Tom was able to fully focus on his project with a rapidly approaching deadline. Most of his afternoon would be tied up on a conference call, so he needed to get as much done as possible now. Glancing at the clock, he figured he'd be working through lunch. 

All his plans for maximum productivity evaporated when Victoria sailed into his office just before twelve. His colleague moved with the grace of a former debutante. Her golden blonde hair was swept back into an elegant chignon, and diamond studs adorned her ears. Of course, they weren't nearly as impressive as the diamond on her ring finger. 

By the time Victoria had closed the door behind her, Tom was on his feet. Before he had a chance to speak a word, Victoria said, "Really, Tom, you need to talk to your assistant about her wardrobe. My God, where does she find those clothes?"

In the past, Tom would have humored Victoria by promising to heed her suggestion. Now, he merely raised an eyebrow and replied, "Not everyone at this company makes six figures."

"And she never will, dressed like that." Victoria gave her own outfit, with its designer label, an approving glance, as if to prove her point. "Remember, as your assistant, Charlene represents you."

"Her name's Charlotte," Tom corrected in a mild tone.

Victoria waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever." 

He circled around the desk, closing the distance between them. "Did you come all the way to my office to talk about Charlotte's choice of clothing?"

"No." She busied herself with straightening the collar of his shirt, which didn't need straightening. "I just wanted to say I was disappointed not to hear from you this weekend." Her fingers traveled downward, along his tie, before stopping at his lower belly. She often touched him there, teasingly close to his groin. 

Grasping her wrist, Tom moved her land lower. Her eyes widened, for he wasn't normally so bold while they were in the office. His encounters with Charlotte had made him brazen.

"I wish we could have spent some time together," he murmured. A soft sigh escaped his lips as she fondled him through his pants. "I was just caught up with work. You know this project—"

"I know all about your project." Her tone made it clear she didn't want to hear anything more about the subject. "It's a shame," she went on, her expression regretful, "because my schedule won't allow me much free time for the next several weeks."

As Victoria described the charitable function she and her husband were busy planning, her hand dropped back to her side. Searching her face, Tom wondered how she would react if she realized the danger his assistant so recently posed to her career and reputation. 

Semi-hard from Victoria's attention, Tom only half-listened to her go on about seating arrangements and an open bar. Unable to suppress a sly smile, he toyed with her nipples through her blouse. Though they quickly hardened, she swatted his hand away.

"What's gotten into you this morning, Tom?" 

Leaning toward her, he whispered in her ear, "I want to go down on you. I'm dying to taste your pussy..."

Victoria let out a moan so faint that only Tom could possibly hear it. "You had your chance this weekend," she whispered back. "And you chose work."

Irritation prickled at his nerves. How many times had she chosen her own job, or her husband, or her social life, over Tom? He couldn't begin to count. Yet he was patient, accommodating. He never pushed for more. Now, he felt he was being punished for saving both their asses. 

Victoria must have noticed the tension in his shoulders as he withdrew. Again, she reached for him, her hands cupping his face. "Maybe we can arrange to take a long lunch later this week." 

Without warning, Charlotte's taunting words invaded Tom's mind: are you the one on your knees, pleading for scraps?

"That sounds good," he told Victoria while forcing a smile. "Just let me know which day works for you."

She drew his mouth to hers for a gentle kiss, one that wouldn't smear her lipstick or leave a trace of it on him. Before she could slip beyond reach, he took hold of her hand.

"Anything new with the... situation?" he asked quietly.

The situation. That was how they safely referred to David and their plan to oust him. 

"Patience," Victoria chided. "I'm working on it, but these things don't happen overnight." Now, it was her turn to bring her lips to his ear. "We need a little more dirt," she whispered. "What we have now isn't quite enough."

Of course, she'd told him this before. Whenever Tom was convinced they'd amassed enough evidence of David's poor performance, Victoria would insist otherwise. "This needs to be ironclad," she'd said on numerous occasions. 

As she gazed up at Tom, gauging his reaction, he stroked her high cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. "Understood. And I appreciate all you're doing."

His profession of gratitude seemed to appease her. Offering a gorgeous smile, she told him she'd be in touch later in the week. He watched her leave, his stare settling on her curvy ass. How different she was from Charlotte. 

And how strange that he could be equally attracted to both women. With his cock still aching for attention, he wished he could summon Charlotte into his office. She knew just how to touch him; it wouldn't take long for her to make him come from a hand job alone...

"You fucking idiot," he growled to himself. Charlotte had clearly closed the door on their short-lived sexual relationship, and instead of being relieved, he was tempted to wrench it open again!

Returning to his desk, he got back to work. When Charlotte appeared at his door at one, he found she didn't seem at all upset about his meeting with Victoria earlier. 

"I'm heading to lunch," she said. 

For a brief moment, Tom expected Charlotte to invite him to join her. How could he gently turn her down? And how could he make it clear that they still needed to maintain those professional boundaries she'd mocked?

"Do you want me to bring back a sandwich from the café?" she went on. "Looks like you're not taking a break today."

Tom struggled to hide his surprise. So she was toeing the professional line, after all. "That would be great, Charlotte." Rising from the chair, he reached for his wallet. "This should be enough for your lunch and mine."

Taking the cash he held out to her, she said, "It's way more than enough. What are you in the mood for?"

Was he only imagining that her gaze drifted to his crotch while she asked that question? Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part.

"Turkey club," he replied. 

Charlotte's stare snapped back up to meet his. With an impish smile, she said, "I'll see if they have lemon cake, too. I know it's a favorite of yours."

*****

The rest of Tom's workday was mostly uneventful, as were the next few weeks that followed. With each passing day, he allowed himself to be assured by the return to normalcy.

Though Charlotte had seemingly reverted back to her former self, Tom knew he would never again make the mistake of failing to notice his assistant. Always, he made a point to chat with her when she came to his office. It wasn't only out of a sense of obligation; curiosity also fueled his questions. Charlotte, however, remained less than forthcoming. Tom realized he still had no idea how she spent her time away from work. 

Of course, he didn't resort to prying. Charlotte's after-hours activities were none of his business, he told himself. Besides, he had his hands full with Victoria, who managed to fuck him on a regular basis while still meeting the social obligations she shared with her husband. 

The long lunch she and Tom arranged didn't satisfy her for long. Without warning, she showed up at his place several nights later, still wearing a cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. 

When he bent Victoria over the side of his couch and lifted her dress, he discovered she'd removed her panties before arriving at his door. Yet he had only a few blissful seconds to tease her wet pussy with the head of his cock.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked, somewhat reluctantly.

They'd been religious about using them since the start of their affair. Victoria's husband had gotten a vasectomy years ago, and Tom understood that she wanted to avoid a pregnancy at all costs. 

Still, his thoughts stubbornly returned to Charlotte while he slid his sheathed cock inside Victoria. A powerful current of lust shuddered through him when he remembered the feel of his assistant's wet cunt surrounding his dick. 

Recalling their illicit coupling made him take Victoria with hard, insistent thrusts. He heard her gasp, followed by a guttural moan.

"Does your husband fuck you like this?" Tom growled. In the past, he'd never been one for talking during sex, but the night he'd spent with Charlotte made him realize how much he enjoyed it. 

"No." Victoria sounded as if she couldn't quite catch her breath. Each cry seemed to hitch in her chest. "He's never fucked me so hard!" she finally managed to confess.

"Beg for it," he demanded through clenched teeth. "Show me what a little slut you can be."

"Tom!" She lifted her head, allowing him to glimpse her profile. He saw the outrage in her expression. 

After driving himself deep inside her, he grew still. Her whimper of protest only made him laugh low and soft. Victoria's features twisted as a battle of lust and pride waged within her. Lust won, as Tom sensed it would. 

"Please!" She spat out the word as if it left a foul taste on her tongue. "Give me your cock! Make me come!"

"That's a good girl." He fucked her hard and fast, his merciless rhythm bringing about her climax in a matter of minutes. She was still trembling when he reached his own release. 

Carefully withdrawing, Tom removed the condom and tossed it into the wastebasket. Victoria remained slumped over the couch arm. As he gathered her in an embrace, she rested her forehead against his chest. His shirt was damp with sweat, but he wouldn't remove it. A week later, his shoulder bore the mark from Charlotte's teeth, and his back was still lined with faint scratches. 

"I wish I didn't have to go," Victoria whispered.

It was what she always said just before leaving him. 

*****

As the end of the month, and the deadline for Tom's project, drew nearer, his confidence increased. He'd averted a major crisis with Charlotte, securing her silence in the process. The project would be a major success, he already knew. His plan to become CEO was falling into place, one step at a time. 

His elevated mood continued through an unremarkable Wednesday afternoon. In two days' time, he would present his finalized project, and he and Victoria had plans to meet for celebratory drinks afterward. 

A booming voice drew Tom's attention from his work. Unable to suppress a scowl, he looked toward his open office door. From where he sat, he could see David's hulking frame. The CEO stood at Charlotte's desk wearing a friendly smile.

"Charlotte! How are you doing today? Tom keeping you busy?"

Though Charlotte was just out of sight, Tom heard her laugh. "Always. He's in his office if you need to see him."

Tom braced himself for a conversation with the man he wanted to replace. 

It wasn't as if David was an asshole. For a CEO, he had a tolerable personality. It was simply that Tom believed he could do far better. Still, he made sure his smile was welcoming. Shitty as the timing was, he knew better than to act frustrated by the interruption.

Big-boned and broad-shouldered, David took up most of the office doorway. "Tom!" he said in that imposing voice which matched his physical attributes perfectly. Striding toward Tom's desk, he held out his hand.

It was an antiquated way for colleagues to greet each other when they'd been working together for years, but Tom quickly stood and gave David's hand a firm shake. "Good to see you, David."

"Figured I'd stop by and see how the project's going." The CEO smoothed his hand over his hair. The strands were still sandy blond but had begun to thin. Though David was only in his early fifties, Tom thought he looked older. His divorce last year had aged him significantly, and Tom had heard plenty of rumors about David's drinking. 

"I'm almost finished." Tom's smile never faltered even while he searched David's face for a clue as to the real reason for this visit. David had many flaws, but micromanaging wasn't one of them. 

"Excellent! I'm looking forward to your presentation Friday." David glanced over his shoulder, and when he looked back at Tom, his expression was almost sheepish. In a lower voice, he asked, "Will Charlotte be assisting you?"

Tom furrowed his brow in confusion. "At the presentation? Uh, no, I think I can manage fine on my own."

"I only ask because she's been a lifesaver for me a few times. She's a genius when it comes to the new software."

Alarm slithered through Tom's belly, churning his guts. While holding David's stare, he didn't once blink, but an icy sweat broke out on his skin beneath his shirt. 

"Is that right?" Tom said, his tone deceptively casual. "I had no idea Charlotte helped you out. In fact, I didn't know you two were so well acquainted."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized he'd fucked up. The way he'd phrased the remark made it sound like an accusation. Which it was, but he shouldn't have been so goddamn obvious about it.

David's smile slipped, and his eyes narrowed just enough to convey a warning. "Yeah, she and I chatted at Taylor's retirement party a few months ago. I mentioned the software was a real pain in my ass, and she offered to give me a tutorial."

Tom's own smile was pinched, uncomfortable on his face. "She is extremely talented. I'm lucky to have her."

"And don't you forget it!" David's laughter sounded forced. "Otherwise, I might have to poach her from you." The CEO winked and then offered a friendly goodbye. "Good luck on that presentation," he called over his shoulder while leaving the office.

Once the man was out of sight, Tom slumped into his chair. A fierce pounding had begun under his skull, prompting him to retrieve a bottle of aspirin from the desk drawer. 

He noticed his hands were trembling when he dry-swallowed the pills. His mind raced, trying to gauge the severity of this new threat. The mere thought of David and Charlotte together made the sweat on his skin turn clammy. 

Somehow, he waited patiently. Waited for David's voice to fade into silence. Waited for the agony in his head to subside just a little.

Then he was on his feet, moving toward the door. Toward Charlotte's desk.

She was diligently working, her fingers flying over the keyboard. If she noticed Tom's approach, she didn't let on. 

It was only when he stood just behind her chair and leaned forward that she started. "You scared me!" Her voice was quiet, her smile warm. Almost playful.

Gripping the back of Charlotte's chair, Tom pretended to study the figures displayed on her screen. Though his face was just inches from hers, he made a point not to attract attention from others working nearby.

He turned his head ever so slightly, still seemingly absorbed in perusing her work. His words, carried on a sigh, were barely audible: "You backstabbing whore."

Charlotte gasped and immediately stiffened. "What are you—"

He abruptly stood. "Before you leave today, I want to see you in my office."

Just hours ago, he wouldn't have dared to use such a sharp tone with her. But if she was working with David, and had been all this time, then Tom knew he was done for. He imagined David would wait until he'd given his presentation on Friday before having him escorted from the building. 

The only thing left to do now? Make it clear to Charlotte that she would pay dearly if Victoria shared Tom's fate.

His assistant stared up at him, opening her mouth to speak, but whatever she saw in his face made her think better of it. Instead, she merely nodded, her expression unreadable. As if to dismiss him, she returned to her work.

And Tom returned to his office to wait.