Chapter 166 Under the Table

Chapter 166 Under the Table
[Sera]

Barrett was already seated at his desk, focused on his computer screen. He looked up when I entered, his face softening into a smile that still made my heart skip.

"You came," he said, sounding pleased.

"I wouldn't miss it," I replied sweetly, moving to stand beside his chair. "Important meeting, right?"

He nodded, checking his watch. "Starting in five minutes. It's with—"

"Economic Minister Reeves and the reform team," I finished for him. "I saw it in your planner this morning."

Barrett reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It might be a bit dry, but I thought you'd appreciate seeing the economic plan in action."

"I'm actually really interested in hearing this discussion," I said, sitting in his lap before sliding down toward the floor. "I've been reading about the economic reforms in the news."

His eyebrows shot up. "You want to sit in on the meeting?"

"Is that not okay?" I asked, already positioning myself under his desk.

Barrett chuckled, adjusting his chair. "Of course it's fine. Just might be a bit dry for most people. Not exactly riveting entertainment."

I smiled, settling in under the desk. "I'll be right here, if you don't mind."

He reached down and gave my hand another gentle squeeze as the video conference chimed to life. Barrett straightened his posture, ensuring the camera angle stayed on him as he greeted the participants with his usual professional demeanor.

As the meeting progressed into discussions about tax structures and investment incentives, I began my silent campaign. My hands moved with purpose, reaching for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with a quiet clink. Barrett's voice stayed steady, but I could feel the tension in his legs as I tugged his zipper down, my fingers brushing against him through the fabric of his boxers. His erection was already evident, straining against the constraint.

When I freed him completely, wrapping my hand around his length, his grip on the desk tightened, knuckles whitening. I leaned forward, my lips brushing against him, and a barely audible hitch caught in his throat. I took him into my mouth, slow and deliberate, feeling the heat of him, the way his body reacted despite his forced composure above the table.

Twenty minutes in, during a particularly important point about infrastructure funding, I increased the pace, my tongue tracing along him, feeling him throb with every movement. Above me, fragments of conversation filtered down:

"—fifteen percent cap is non-negotiable if we want to provide relief for working families—"

"—pharmaceutical lobby is pushing back hard, but we have data showing—"

"—insulin prices alone have tripled in the last decade while production costs have—"

Barrett cleared his throat, a faint gasp escaping as his voice wavered. "Minister Reeves, I—excuse me, I need to reference a document." He reached forward and disabled his camera with a shaky hand. "One moment, please."

The instant the camera was off, he fixed me with a look that was equal parts exasperation and desire. In one swift motion, he hooked his hands under my arms and pulled me up from under the desk, hoisting me onto his lap. I gasped, startled by the sudden movement, and instinctively tried to slip away, my heart racing from the thrill of almost being caught.

"Oh no, you don't," Barrett growled under his breath, his voice thick with strain. His arm tightened around my waist, pinning me firmly against him as he kept me from escaping. He captured my mouth in a punishing kiss, hard and demanding, making me whimper against his lips.

"Naughty," he whispered harshly, delivering a sharp smack to my thigh that made me jump. "Very, very naughty, Mrs. Thompson." Another firm swat followed, causing heat to spread across my skin.

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling a twinge of remorse at seeing the strain on his face. "Barrett, I—"

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he whispered fiercely, his hand delivering another stinging swat. "In the middle of the most important economic meeting of the quarter?"

I looked down, a mix of defiance and genuine contrition in my eyes. "You've been ignoring me," I whispered back, unable to keep a slight tremor from my voice.

His eyes softened slightly, though the tension in his jaw remained. "Ignoring you?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. "Sera, I've been finalizing our new house—with a nursery for the twins, complete with that ceiling mural you sketched. I'm even installing that ridiculous slide from the second floor directly to the indoor pool you said every child should have."

My mouth fell open. "You... what?"

"I wanted it to be perfect before showing you. Somewhere our family can grow. That's where I've been disappearing to, not just work."

Before I could respond, a voice came through the speakers: "Mr. Thompson? Are you still with us?"

Barrett quickly reactivated his camera. "Yes, my apologies. Technical issue. Please continue."

The meeting resumed, but my mischievous mood had evaporated, replaced by a warm glow of understanding. Barrett hadn't been neglecting me—he'd been creating a future for our children.

The meeting resumed, but my mischievous mood had evaporated, replaced by a warm glow of understanding. Barrett hadn't been neglecting me—he'd been creating a future for us.

When the conference finally ended, Barrett turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "I think you owe me an apology for that little stunt."

"Maybe," I admitted. "Or maybe you owe me one for keeping secrets."

He chuckled, pulling me close. "How about I show you the house instead? It's not completely finished, but most of the special features are in place."

Forty minutes later, we turned onto a private road winding through a wooded area outside the city limits. Barrett drove expertly, his Tesla humming quietly as massive oak trees gave way to an expansive clearing. My jaw dropped when the house came into view.

"Is that..." I couldn't finish my sentence.

Barrett smiled, watching my reaction. "Our new home. Still under construction, but I wanted you to see it."