‘Your coat, Herr Shimada.’ An instinctual, irrepressible, ever so slight lick of her lips accompanied the lingering glide of the executive secreta...y’s hands over Trent Shimada’s coat shoulders. Through the fabric, he perceived the soft yet unmistakably deliberate tracing of her fingertips over the steely contours of his triceps. In the midst of this bustling lunchtime bistro, filled with bland-suited management types talking financial bourses over bratwurst, the secretary took an extra moment. "You got to be quiet. Please,someone will hear." I told you to call me officer, remember?"Shit, I was tired of this game. I was tired ofcalling her officer, the heels, the skirt that keptrising up, but most of all, I was tired of feeling sogoddamn vulnerable. I would have argued with her, butI was in no position to argue. I was in even less ofone, when she walked behind me and pulled up on myhands. There was nothing to do, but bend forward. Ifelt her hands separating the cheeks of my. More

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