James Munro was flat-out too old for me. I knew it the minute I saw him at work. I had finished my first year of pre-law and had been lucky enough to get a summer job working at a prestigious law firm as basically a clerk who covered for some of the other girls on their vacations.

He, meanwhile, was already an established lawyer and partner at the firm. Which meant he shouldn't have been flirting with me, shouldn't have been teasing me, and shouldn't have been giving me that look with his eyes that told me how much he wanted me.

I'm not saying he was old. I mean, not old-old. He wasn't an old man. He was probably somewhere north of thirty. Which meant at least ten years older than me. But boy was he ever good-looking. Of course, it was clear he knew it, too.

He wasn't just a pretty face, either. In that beautifully tailored suit of his, it was obvious he was a large, and powerfully built man. He had a broad chest and wide shoulders, the kind that made any girl wonder what he looked like without his shirt and jacket on.

I was surprised that he wasn't more discreet about his interest in me. I mean, the firm did have rules about this sort of thing. Then again, he was a partner. So I suppose he could get away with a lot more than someone like me.

I had been reluctant mostly because of his age, and because I worried about getting a reputation as some kind of slut and maybe losing my summer job. That would certainly not help my future job prospects. But he had been persistent and my imagination had preyed upon me, teasing and taunting me, making me wonder what it was like with an older guy who had a body like his.

I mean, I'd never been out with a guy as big, as powerful, or as old. Would things be different with him? He was certainly more sophisticated than any of the guys I had dated, never mind slept with. And frankly, I had been disappointed in guys since adolescence. They were such goofs! They liked the stupidest, most childish things. And they hadn't seemed to grow up all that much from what I had seen in college.

I thought of myself as more sophisticated than most girls, more intelligent, more into intellectual pursuits than fashion and celebrities. I also wondered what it was he saw in me. I was not some blonde Barbie doll like Jordan, another of the summer clerks. Why wasn't he hitting on her instead?

Not that I'm ugly, or even plain. My hair is a glistening chestnut brown and it falls perfectly down around my face and over my shoulders. It frames and cups my face as if it was painted in place, curving slightly in as it moves past my chin.

I wear large black framed glasses for distance. I don't really need them up close, so these are progressives. I have an egg-shaped face, bright, blue-green eyes, and a lithe, slender body that is toned and fit. I do have pretty nice breasts, though. They're not the kind of huge things that pull men's eyes, but let's just say I look very nice without my shirt on, too.

James had certainly thought so when he had pulled my top off. Yes, I had given in to my own instincts and impulses. I had let him corner me in his office, slowly maneuvering me back against the wall, showing no fear, and even amusement as I had gazed coquettishly up at him.

In truth, the only fear I had was of discovery. So when he had me pressed against the wall all I did was smile and put my hands up against his chest.

It was a very nice chest!

He reached up and gripped my wrists and then gently but firmly forced them up and back against the wall next to my head as he leaned in and kissed me on the lips. His kiss was gentle, testing, but very good. And it grew more passionate and hungrier as he saw that I wasn't resisting in any way.

It grew into a kiss like I had never felt before! It had so much passion and hunger, and was delivered with so much skill! I literally moaned into his mouth as his lips forced mine wider. This was a guy who knew how to kiss! He didn't try to jam his tongue into my mouth! I fell into that kiss, losing track of time.

And then his foot moved over and pushed the door closed. A moment later he reached over and locked it. That was the moment I should have stopped him. But I had no interest in doing so. He had let go of my wrists but I was hardly aware of it. His fingers moved nimbly down the front of my shirt and before I realized it he was pulling it open and pulling it over my shoulders and down to pin my arms to my sides. His lips never stopped moving, either on my lips, up under my ear, or down around my throat. I felt as if I was being devoured!

Now I began to feel a sense of anxiety and wariness. Was I letting this go too far, too fast!? This was crazy! We were at the office! But then my shirt was gone entirely and he was attacking my bra. He unsnapped it in back like he had a lot of experience. And while I instinctively grabbed at it as he was pulling it up and off he was too fast for me.

He stood back, gripping my wrists again, forcing them back against the wall, this time above my head as his eyes drank in what he saw. I was proud of my body and felt a shudder of excitement and ego at the approval and heat in his eyes.

"You've been holding out on me, Bethany," he said. "I knew you were gorgeous, but I didn't know you had such an incredible body under those shapeless clothes you wear."

"I was told to make sure I didn't dress up in anything that would distract the men in the office," I gulped as an excuse.

He let out a bark of laughter. "You would have had to wear a bag over your head then."

He let go of my wrists and undid his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. I watched excitedly with every new inch of skin that appeared. When the line of flesh extended all the way down to his belt buckle, he pulled the shirt up more, He undid another couple of buttons and then pulled the shirt and jacket off at the same time.

Oh my!

I was so busy feasting my eyes on all that powerful, gorgeous, well-muscled male flesh that I hardly noticed as he tossed shirt and jacket onto a chair and then gripped my wrists again to cross them up and back against the wall above my head.

I did notice, however, when he quickly wrapped his silk tie around my crossed wrists and tugged it tightly closed.

"Hey, wh-what are you... what... James!" I gasped, twisting my head to look up, and trying to pull away.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to use my Christian name, Miss Ferguson," he said sternly.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed, not wanting my voice to be heard through the door.

"I should have thought that was obvious, pretty girl."

Still holding my wrists, he moved me sideways, reaching up to pull a small picture off the wall and setting it aside. There was a black ring on the wall about a foot above my head and he quickly slid the tie through it and tied it in place.

We were at the office, a busy office where a lot of people work. I wasn't afraid that he was going to hurt me or anything. I mean, if you're some kind of crazed serial killer, you don't attack girls at the office where you work. No, I was just confused and then frustrated that he was playing some silly game instead of doing something sophisticated and romantic like I had been fantasizing about.

But then as I started to complain he leaned in, holding my head between his large hands, and kissed me again. And it was another amazing kiss, one that pushed deeper into my psyche for some reason because I was not only half-naked but now tied up and helpless.