The smoky aroma of pipe tobacco wafted through the air, tickling Francine's nose. Her boss, Micah had been at work all day and well into the night working on reports for a client. She'd stayed with him in order to catch up on work she'd missed and had ended up forming a nasty habit of working late alongside her boss.

She rubbed her nose and inhaled the sensual scent as it floated carelessly through the air.

His office was next to hers and the door had been cracked open. The building itself was old enough that the stale, yet reliable scent of old wood hung in the air and let anyone know that the structure had been around for at least 100 years.

San Francisco had plenty of buildings like that.

Francine adored the older architecture and often told her mate, Nick about the fascinating landscape and building styles she saw in the City by the bay.

Nick's laughter would float over her ears and he'd wish he could see the same sights, but work kept him away. His job as a programming tech took him around the country for various firms. It also gave him interesting stories.

Many of those stories became tales Francine wrote about on a story site she ran in her spare time. Her audience was pretty large, but no one was aware of her proclivities.

She suspected Micah had an inkling of an idea of how she used her voice to lure strangers, often those of the highest 'moral' character, onto her site to give her money that paid for a comfortable lifestyle.

Francine let out a sigh, leaned back in her chair and set her heels up on the oak desk. She crossed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes for just a moment, listening to the sounds of old jazz while pipe smoke continuously filtered in from Micah's office in a steady stream.

What she wouldn't give to waltz right into his office, strip him and fuck his brains out.

She badly needed a break. The stress of working late for so many nights in a row was beginning to get to her. Hell, she even swore she'd developed an emotional connection deeper than lust for Micah.

Not only had she been playing catch up on her main jobs, but he'd been working her to the bone for the last few weeks and it was starting to grate on her nerves. Her hormones had begun to run amuck. Nick's hectic work schedule kept them from playing often.

And Micah was a stunning, handsome specimen of male who just happened to wear his heart on his sleeve. He'd even shown an occasional romantic side by making sure red roses filled the vase on her desk almost weekly now for the last six months.

Imagining the Norse god of a man running all that thick blond hair over her heated skin made her sweat. The thought of how his rough fingers would feel when he caressed her nipples made her pussy weep and breath come in pants.

As tired as she would be when she finally did get home, it would take effort to break out the vibrator, anal plug and nipple clamps while she fucked herself to sleep.

In her fantasies, Nick had come home and tied her to the bed in her sleep. He'd stripped off what little clothing she wore and forced her ass up in the air.

Then he'd lube her up and take her from behind while she was commanded to suck off her boss.

She sighed again and felt the material of her top rub against her breasts.

Micah chose that moment to step into her office. "Frankie, I need some food. Do you want anything?"

She swung her feet off the desk and leaned forward, propping her chin on her hands. The look in Micah's gaze spelled more than want for food.

Dark blue eyes held a gleam of something wicked that begged her to stand and strut across the room, hike up her skirt and tug him against her with one thigh.

Instead, she remained still, watched him run a hand through waist length blond hair he kept loose. It splayed over his chest in contrast against the dark maroon shirt he wore.

Black jeans hugged his hips.

She licked her lips.

He cocked his head to the side, "Frankie, food?"

She shook the lust from her mind and focused on him once more. "Oh yeah. Sure. What did you have in mind?"