NEW YEAR'S PROPOSITION
by RILAYAWRITERabout 1 hour ago
•medium read•hot intensity# Chapter: Boardroom Confidential
Maya pushed the blouse off Riley's shoulders and let it pool on the leather chair behind her like a silk surrender flag. The boardroom air hit Riley's bare skin and she shivered—not from cold, but from the way Maya's blue eyes tracked down her collarbone to the edge of her black lace bra like she was reading a map she'd memorized but never got tired of following.
"You're insane," Riley whispered, even as her back arched toward Maya's mouth. "We're in the office." "We're in *our* office," Maya corrected, her tongue tracing the lace edge of Riley's bra cup. "I specifically had this boardroom soundproofed after the Halloween debrief meeting. Remember? When you sat on the table and I—" "I remember." Riley's voice cracked. Her fingers tangled in Maya's blonde hair. "I remember *everything* about that meeting."
Maya grinned against her skin, then hooked two fingers into the front clasp of Riley's bra and flicked it open with a practiced snap that should have been classified as a magic trick. The bra fell away and Riley's breasts spilled free, nipples already tight from the combination of air conditioning and the woman between her thighs who looked up at her with the kind of hunger that made Riley's pussy clench against nothing.
"Six weeks," Maya murmured, dragging her lips across Riley's chest without quite touching her nipples. "Six weeks to plan the most spectacular New Year's Eve event Manhattan has ever seen. And right now, I'm going to celebrate."
"With your mouth?" Riley asked, breathless. "Starting with my mouth." Maya's tongue circled Riley's left nipple—slow, deliberate, the kind of lazy orbit that made Riley want to scream. Then she sucked it into her mouth hard enough to make Riley's hips buck against her.
Riley gasped and yanked at Maya's blazer, pulling it down her arms. Maya shrugged it off without releasing her nipple, and Riley heard buttons hit the floor as Maya's shirt followed. When Maya finally pulled back to breathe, both women were topless from the waist up, and the boardroom table behind them reflected their image in its polished surface—two women tangled together in a high-rise, Manhattan glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows like they'd paid for the view specifically for this moment.
"Stand up," Maya said. Riley stood. Maya's fingers found the zipper of her pencil skirt and dragged it down with a sound that rivaled the espresso machine's earlier hiss. The skirt dropped. Riley stood in nothing but heels and a thong that was already visibly damp.
Maya stepped back and looked at her. Just *looked*. That particular assessment that always made Riley feel simultaneously exposed and worshipped.
"Sit on the table," Maya said softly. Riley hoisted herself onto the boardroom table—the same table where, twenty minutes ago, they'd pitched a cruise liner concept to their boss. The cool surface against her bare thighs made her hiss. Maya kicked off her own heels, unzipped her skirt, and stepped out of it, standing in a matching set of deep blue underwear that made her eyes look like they were glowing.
She walked toward Riley slowly, and Riley spread her knees without being asked. Maya stepped between them and kissed her—deep, slow, one hand cradling Riley's jaw while the other slid down her stomach and slipped beneath the thin fabric of her thong. Riley moaned into Maya's mouth as two fingers dragged through the wetness between her legs, gathering it, spreading it, circling her clit with a featherlight touch that was absolutely, maddeningly insufficient.
"More," Riley demanded against Maya's lips. "Patience." Maya's fingers slid lower, pressing at Riley's entrance without pushing inside. "I've been thinking about this since you put on that blouse this morning. Button by button. I counted every single one as you fastened them and thought about unfastening them."
"Maya—" "I thought about this during the entire meeting." Maya finally pushed two fingers inside, and Riley's head fell back with a sound that was definitely not soundproofed by any renovation. "Every time Smackle said 'budget,' I thought about my fingers being inside you. Every time Stuart said 'logistics,' I thought about my tongue on your clit."
Riley's hips rocked forward to meet Maya's hand. "You're going to ruin every business meeting we ever have." "That's the goal." Maya curled her fingers, finding the spot that made Riley's thighs clamp around her hips. She worked it with a slow, relentless rhythm that had Riley gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white, trying not to slide off the polished surface.
The door handle clicked. Both women froze. Red McBride stood in the doorway, tablet in one hand, keycard in the other. Her blue eyes swept the scene—Riley naked on the table, Maya between her legs in her underwear, fingers in a location that was categorically not on any security schematic—and her expression performed an extraordinary journey from surprise to amusement to professional resignation in approximately one second.
"I forgot my tablet," Red said flatly, holding up said tablet. "Which is on the chair. Which is next to the table. Where you are currently..." She gestured vaguely at the entire situation.
Maya didn't remove her fingers. She didn't even slow down. "Red. Close the door." Red raised one eyebrow. "I could just leave." "You could," Maya said, her thumb finding Riley's clit and pressing in a way that made Riley bite her own lip hard enough to taste copper. "Or you could stay and watch the best show in this building that isn't on Broadway."
Red's jaw tightened. Her eyes flicked to Riley, who was looking back at her with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks and an expression that was half embarrassment, half invitation. Red stepped inside and let the door close behind her. She leaned against the wall, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched.
Maya turned back to Riley and increased her pace. Three fingers now, deep and curved, her thumb working Riley's clit in tight circles. Riley's moans echoed off the soundproofed walls—Maya's renovation suddenly proving its worth in ways the contractor had never imagined.
"Come for me," Maya whispered. "Come for me while Red watches." Riley's orgasm hit like a Manhattan subway—fast, shaking, and impossible to ignore. She came hard around Maya's fingers, her whole body arching off the table, Maya's free hand pressing against her stomach to keep her from sliding off. The sound she made was guttural and raw and filled the boardroom like a symphony that would never appear on any meeting minutes.
Maya withdrew her fingers slowly, brought them to her lips, and sucked them clean while maintaining eye contact with Riley the entire time. Behind them, Red exhaled. She picked up her tablet from the chair, tucked it under her arm, and walked toward the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. "For the record," Red said without turning around, "the security schematic for the New Year's event will include a lock on this boardroom door. A *real* one." She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes dark. "And next time you invite me to stay, I expect dinner first."
The door clicked shut behind her. Maya looked at Riley, who was still sprawled on the table, chest heaving, thong hanging off one ankle. "Did she just—"
"She did," Riley said. Maya grinned. "I love this job."
Riley pulled her down onto the table for another kiss. "You love *your job*."
Maya's hand slid between Riley's thighs again. "I love my *everything*."
Maya pushed the blouse off Riley's shoulders and let it pool on the leather chair behind her like a silk surrender flag. The boardroom air hit Riley's bare skin and she shivered—not from cold, but from the way Maya's blue eyes tracked down her collarbone to the edge of her black lace bra like she was reading a map she'd memorized but never got tired of following.
"You're insane," Riley whispered, even as her back arched toward Maya's mouth. "We're in the office." "We're in *our* office," Maya corrected, her tongue tracing the lace edge of Riley's bra cup. "I specifically had this boardroom soundproofed after the Halloween debrief meeting. Remember? When you sat on the table and I—" "I remember." Riley's voice cracked. Her fingers tangled in Maya's blonde hair. "I remember *everything* about that meeting."
Maya grinned against her skin, then hooked two fingers into the front clasp of Riley's bra and flicked it open with a practiced snap that should have been classified as a magic trick. The bra fell away and Riley's breasts spilled free, nipples already tight from the combination of air conditioning and the woman between her thighs who looked up at her with the kind of hunger that made Riley's pussy clench against nothing.
"Six weeks," Maya murmured, dragging her lips across Riley's chest without quite touching her nipples. "Six weeks to plan the most spectacular New Year's Eve event Manhattan has ever seen. And right now, I'm going to celebrate."
"With your mouth?" Riley asked, breathless. "Starting with my mouth." Maya's tongue circled Riley's left nipple—slow, deliberate, the kind of lazy orbit that made Riley want to scream. Then she sucked it into her mouth hard enough to make Riley's hips buck against her.
Riley gasped and yanked at Maya's blazer, pulling it down her arms. Maya shrugged it off without releasing her nipple, and Riley heard buttons hit the floor as Maya's shirt followed. When Maya finally pulled back to breathe, both women were topless from the waist up, and the boardroom table behind them reflected their image in its polished surface—two women tangled together in a high-rise, Manhattan glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows like they'd paid for the view specifically for this moment.
"Stand up," Maya said. Riley stood. Maya's fingers found the zipper of her pencil skirt and dragged it down with a sound that rivaled the espresso machine's earlier hiss. The skirt dropped. Riley stood in nothing but heels and a thong that was already visibly damp.
Maya stepped back and looked at her. Just *looked*. That particular assessment that always made Riley feel simultaneously exposed and worshipped.
"Sit on the table," Maya said softly. Riley hoisted herself onto the boardroom table—the same table where, twenty minutes ago, they'd pitched a cruise liner concept to their boss. The cool surface against her bare thighs made her hiss. Maya kicked off her own heels, unzipped her skirt, and stepped out of it, standing in a matching set of deep blue underwear that made her eyes look like they were glowing.
She walked toward Riley slowly, and Riley spread her knees without being asked. Maya stepped between them and kissed her—deep, slow, one hand cradling Riley's jaw while the other slid down her stomach and slipped beneath the thin fabric of her thong. Riley moaned into Maya's mouth as two fingers dragged through the wetness between her legs, gathering it, spreading it, circling her clit with a featherlight touch that was absolutely, maddeningly insufficient.
"More," Riley demanded against Maya's lips. "Patience." Maya's fingers slid lower, pressing at Riley's entrance without pushing inside. "I've been thinking about this since you put on that blouse this morning. Button by button. I counted every single one as you fastened them and thought about unfastening them."
"Maya—" "I thought about this during the entire meeting." Maya finally pushed two fingers inside, and Riley's head fell back with a sound that was definitely not soundproofed by any renovation. "Every time Smackle said 'budget,' I thought about my fingers being inside you. Every time Stuart said 'logistics,' I thought about my tongue on your clit."
Riley's hips rocked forward to meet Maya's hand. "You're going to ruin every business meeting we ever have." "That's the goal." Maya curled her fingers, finding the spot that made Riley's thighs clamp around her hips. She worked it with a slow, relentless rhythm that had Riley gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white, trying not to slide off the polished surface.
The door handle clicked. Both women froze. Red McBride stood in the doorway, tablet in one hand, keycard in the other. Her blue eyes swept the scene—Riley naked on the table, Maya between her legs in her underwear, fingers in a location that was categorically not on any security schematic—and her expression performed an extraordinary journey from surprise to amusement to professional resignation in approximately one second.
"I forgot my tablet," Red said flatly, holding up said tablet. "Which is on the chair. Which is next to the table. Where you are currently..." She gestured vaguely at the entire situation.
Maya didn't remove her fingers. She didn't even slow down. "Red. Close the door." Red raised one eyebrow. "I could just leave." "You could," Maya said, her thumb finding Riley's clit and pressing in a way that made Riley bite her own lip hard enough to taste copper. "Or you could stay and watch the best show in this building that isn't on Broadway."
Red's jaw tightened. Her eyes flicked to Riley, who was looking back at her with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks and an expression that was half embarrassment, half invitation. Red stepped inside and let the door close behind her. She leaned against the wall, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched.
Maya turned back to Riley and increased her pace. Three fingers now, deep and curved, her thumb working Riley's clit in tight circles. Riley's moans echoed off the soundproofed walls—Maya's renovation suddenly proving its worth in ways the contractor had never imagined.
"Come for me," Maya whispered. "Come for me while Red watches." Riley's orgasm hit like a Manhattan subway—fast, shaking, and impossible to ignore. She came hard around Maya's fingers, her whole body arching off the table, Maya's free hand pressing against her stomach to keep her from sliding off. The sound she made was guttural and raw and filled the boardroom like a symphony that would never appear on any meeting minutes.
Maya withdrew her fingers slowly, brought them to her lips, and sucked them clean while maintaining eye contact with Riley the entire time. Behind them, Red exhaled. She picked up her tablet from the chair, tucked it under her arm, and walked toward the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. "For the record," Red said without turning around, "the security schematic for the New Year's event will include a lock on this boardroom door. A *real* one." She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes dark. "And next time you invite me to stay, I expect dinner first."
The door clicked shut behind her. Maya looked at Riley, who was still sprawled on the table, chest heaving, thong hanging off one ankle. "Did she just—"
"She did," Riley said. Maya grinned. "I love this job."
Riley pulled her down onto the table for another kiss. "You love *your job*."
Maya's hand slid between Riley's thighs again. "I love my *everything*."