Honestly yes. Yes I find Ray Palmer extremely attractive. He's brilliant, handsome, and hilarious. He's a catch to say the least.

I guess I kinda have a type; Billionaire, smart, sexy.

Which makes me sound like a gold digger to some extent, since I'm being honest.

I blame Oliver for what happened next. He's the one who told me to work as Mr. Palmer's Executive Assistant in order to keep my eyes on him. And I have been certainly keeping an eye on Mr. Palmer, which is the problem really.

Mr. Palmer is just… beautiful. And extremely hot.

Which is also a problem because I can't control my brain to mouth filter around him, well anyone really, but mostly him.

Like the other day, I tripped on the rug on our way to the conference room and started falling forward until his hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me to him. Like directly into him. I swallowed back the groan but sadly not my sexual comment.

"God, I can only imagine what else your hands are good for." I whispered way too loudly.

He slowly removed his hands from my waist and leaned to whisper in my ear. "You might find out, Miss Smoak." I gulped at his words and then he continued, "And you might find that my fingers are more useful outside the office and not taking notes."

And then he walked away, turning only once to reveal a sly smirk.

So yeah. That happened. And maybe I am this little office slut that all the other woman keep saying I am. But I'm not the one technically sexually harassing my employee. But I guess I'm not complaining either.

I'm really not complaining.

So here we are, two and a half months later.

Mr. Palmer and I have a… interesting relationship to say the least. It's a mix between an outrageous flirtationship and sexually harassment.

He's constantly touching me. More than Oliver, which is saying something. Really saying something.

So today we're having a meeting with current and a few of the previous CEO's to discuss what has and hasn't worked in the past for the company. Which is just my luck considering Oliver is here and only four seats away on my right. He keeps looking at me which makes me shift uncomfortable in my seat, like every twenty seconds.

Mr. Palmer is to my left. The first hour he was listening, now on the other hand, not so much. His eyes constantly drift under the table, at his phone maybe.

I meet Oliver's eyes and he mouths 'so bored' with a dramatic eye roll. I smile broadly and try to hide it by bringing my hand to the side of my face. He smirks. That makes me shift again.

Suddenly I feel it. My boss's hand. My body tenses at his soft, hot touch. I look over at him with what I imagine are shocked, lustful eyes.

Mr. Palmer's eyes are on mine only briefly before they disappear under the table.

So he wasn't looking at his phone this whole time, he was looking at my legs. Hum, interesting.

I look to his lap and find all the evidence I need. He's rock hard.

Then I look down at my own lap, my dark blue dress that was mid-thigh is now almost all the way up my legs from my constant moving. His massive tan hand is on my pale knee, his thumb is drawing numbing circles on my knee. Maybe he's waiting to see if I'll stop him, and I should, I really should.

But I don't.

His eyes shift up to the speaker while his hand shifts up my trembling thigh. I clench my jaw tight. I should really stop him.

But I don't.

Instead I follow his lead. My eyes drift to the speaker and I look down at my notepad and pen. I pick up the pen and look down blankly at my paper. I can't focus on anything but his burning hand on my soft skin. He hasn't moved it another inch. Why hasn't he moved it higher?

The fact that I asked myself that makes me even wetter. I am this little office slut people say I am, huh?

I sigh quietly, which Mr. Ray Fucking Palmer takes as an invitation, thank God, his hand ghosts over my thigh lowly.

My cheeks burn brightly, I know. I glance Oliver's way. His eyes are already on me with a questioning looking.

But I can't focus on that. I look back down at my notes.

I feel the need coiling up inside me at his tauntingly soft touch.

Mr. Palmer leans in and whispers thickly in my ear, "Do you want to find out what my fingers can do, Miss Smoak?"

My breathing hitches as his long fingers delicately drift to my inner thigh.

His thumb rubs my thigh lightly. "Tell me to stop and I will." He whispers.

When I say nothing his fingers drags up my leg and back down. I swallow my moan. His fingertips rise back up my thigh leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. I shiver at his fingers trail heading north and I hear him laugh quietly.

When his fingers reach the hem of my dress and push it higher I open my legs wider and moan quietly and quickly cover it with a cough.

I glance up to see Oliver's eyes on me yet again. I smile weakly at him with a clenched jaw. I jump faintly when I feel one of Ray's fingers push aside my soaking wet panties.

Oliver frowns at me in question.

I try to act normal but I feel the blush creeps down to my chest.

I'm not a whore so why am I letting this happen? Especially in a public place?

Without warning Mr. Palmer thrusts a finger roughly inside me.

I jump at roughness and bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"You're so wet." I barely hear it but I do.

Ah, that's why I'm letting it happen.

He pulls out his finger and plunges two in this time. I groan once again and cover it with a cough. He slides his finger out and back in.

I look back up to see if anyone has noticed. No one is paying attention to us except Oliver, who looks like his murderously angry self.

Well Arrow self. Oliver usually tries to put on a public face.

I swallow hard. He wouldn't be able to tell, the table is too low. I tell myself.

Mr. Palmer thrusts in again and I suck in a shallow breath. His thumb rubs my clit roughly which makes me spas and clamp my legs around his hand tightly.

"You're not going to come if I can't move my hand, Miss Smoak." He growls in my ear.

I immediately open my legs and he laughs.

"Good girl." He removes his fingers and runs them back down my thigh. I growl softly.

"You better finish what you started, Mr. Palmer." I hiss under my breath.

And just like that he runs his hand up my thigh and taunts my entrance. His fingers thrust inside me again.

"I intend to do just that. And more." He promised as he rubs me again.

We both jumped and he withdraws his fingers when my phone buzzes on my notepad.

He sat straight and I crossed my shaking legs. He's instantly pretending to pay attention with hands folded over his erection. I pick up my phone and see who sent the messages with shaking fingers.

Oliver. Fuck.

I chance a glance at him.

His brows are furrowed and with a disgusted frown on his face he slowly shakes his head and looks away.

I try to swallow the guilt and shame.

But I can't.

I don't even have to open the messages to know he knows.

Fuck.

I close my eyes tight and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Fuck!

Oliver has never looked more ashamed and disappointed than he just had then. And defiantly never towards me.

I open the messages anyway, I silently hoped it was Arrow related and that's why he looked so furious and disappointed, I highly doubted that though.

'Are you fucking kidding me?'

I sucked in a rugged breath and read the last text.

'Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me? Really, Felicity? Right here? With all these people around? I thought you were better than that.'

I dropped my red face and looked at the page of forgotten notes.

I willed this damn conference to be over.