Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition
These sizzling hot stories dare to explore the taboo world of office romance. From X-rated job interviews, controlling Doms, to the unprofessional use of office furniture—these seven stories have it all.
Our bestselling authors are determined to make you squirm. You may never see the office the same way again!
Rated Four Hearts. “…(“The Art of Grant Management”) was a favorite.”
– Hearts On Fire Reviews
Where to Buy
Straitlaced scientist Dr. Peter Loeffler and freewheeling administrative assistant John Quincy are the Odd Couple of the Kenilworth Research Center. Their ongoing battles over funding are the stuff of legend, and their bickering can be heard up and down the hallways of the center. But in the aftermath of a very important site visit, the scientist and the admin find out that they may have more in common than they first assumed.
Mai massaged the bracketed skin between her eyes again. “I really wish you’d just ask him out already.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?
“Oh, please. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think nobody’s watching. And he looks at you the same way. Your little mating dance has been amusing enough, but don’t you think it’s time to step up your game and do something about it?”
He finally got his jaw under control. “Quincy and I are not doing a mating dance,” he said. “Despite what you most mistakenly believe, I think he’s an obnoxious little troglodyte, and he obviously has no fond feelings for me. We’re not compatible in any way, shape, or form.”
One weary eyebrow arched at him. “How would you know, seeing as the only thing you ever do is bicker with him?”
“I do not bicker,” Peter said sharply, then paused. “All right, perhaps I do. A bit. But he starts it!”
“Mating dance.” Mai sighed. “Look, there’s no rule against you dating a staff member as long as they don’t work for you, so why don’t you try being the bigger man for once and just ask him out?”
“It would be difficult to be the littler man to that homunculus,” Peter muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. “Let me remind you, doctor, that you’re speaking about the man who can pull your metaphorical fat out of the fire. If you won’t cowboy up and ask him out, that’s your decision, but I do expect you to go ask him for some grant help, especially if it has a bearing on the site visit.”
He resisted the image to squirm under her gaze. “I will take that into consideration. May I go now?”
With another sigh, the director waved him off. Peter stalked out of the office, into the anteroom that doubled as Quincy’s domain.
And slowed. Mai’s words came back to him: he looks at you the same way.
If he had to be honest with himself, the increasingly frequent (and intensely sexual) dreams he’d had about the administrative assistant were at the root of his urge to argue with the man. Their daily battles had become a defensive mechanism to help him forget the images of pinning Quincy to his lab door, attacking those lush lips with brutal kisses, grinding against him until he could feel Quincy’s cock hardening. Dragging him onto his lap for more hungry kisses, stripping his clothes off ruthlessly until the smaller man sat there naked and hard, desperate for anything Peter wished to do to him.
And there was so much he wanted to do to John Quincy. But he’d simply assumed that the fast-talking, snarky admin was far too dominant to want to be taken in hand.