Tate
Kelly was perched on the corner of Tate’s desk, watching him going through his emails yet again, as she waited for him to finish so they could go grab lunch together. He was trying to hurry, but every time he went to close his laptop, another email would pop up. Needing to touch her, he placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. Smiling, she absently traced the veins on the back of his hand, sending shivers down his spine.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Greg said, walking in with a devilish grin and planting himself in an armchair. “I know how hard it is to keep your hands to yourself in the beginning.”
Kelly grimaced at Greg before hopping down.
“I’ll wait for you upstairs,” she whispered in his ear before gently kissing him on the cheek.
Tate watched her walk out, yearnin
