Beg for It

Reese pressed his mouth to the inside of her bare thigh. “Please. Please, please, please, let me back inside you.”


In answer, she slipped her panties to the side, giving him access. At that first slow swipe of his tongue, she put one leg over his shoulder. Her head fell back. She cried out, muffling herself by biting her tongue, aware that they were not alone in the office.

She was already coming when he pushed his fingers inside her, fucking along with the steady stroking of his tongue. Her orgasm rocketed through her, leaving her breathless and gasping and blinded with the pleasure.

Blinking, she looked down at him. His wet mouth. Passion-glazed eyes. She traced his lower lip with her forefinger.

A knock came at his closed, but not locked, office door. Sandy said, “Mr. Ebersole? I have a package here that was just delivered. Should I bring it in?”

As far as scandals went, Corinne guessed this would be one that would keep Sandy gossiping for years, but that wasn’t why she pushed herself away from him and tugged her skirt down. It wasn’t like she had to worry about losing her job for fucking the boss—Reese owned the company and the only person she had to answer to was him. But he would be humiliated if the secretary walked in to find him on his knees with a raging erection, his mouth still wet from Corinne’s pussy. He would suffer for this, and that was something Corinne would not allow.

“Get up,” she murmured. “Behind the desk. Now.”

He was already moving as she did at the same time. By the time she got to the door, Corinne had slicked back the stray hairs off her cheeks and forehead and smoothed her clothes. She pulled the door open with a vague smile to find the secretary already reaching for the knob.

“Hi, Sandy. We were just finishing up a finance meeting. I can grab that package, if you want.”

Sandy frowned, leaning to look past Corinne. Whatever she saw must not have been juicy enough to warrant more than a shrug though, because she held up the padded envelope. “Courier brought this from the real estate office.”

Corinne half-turned, already taking the envelope. “I’ll give it to him. We still have some business to go over.”

“I was about to take my lunch, is that okay? Can I bring you anything?”

“I think I’m about to head out, myself,” Corinne replied smoothly, looking finally to see Reese looking nonflustered and completely calm in his desk chair. He’d even managed to grab a few folders and a pen and looked as though he’d been hard at work.

Oh, he was hard all right, she thought and with that, the giggles threatened to overtake her. She bit her tongue hard enough to taste copper. Sandy gave her a glance, but Corinne covered up her impending hilarity with a cough.

“Yeah, me too,” Reese said from behind her. “I’m suddenly dying to eat out. I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”

Sandy gave them both a curious but not suspicious look. “All right, well…if you’re both going out too, I’ll make sure to lock the office.”

Corinne managed to keep herself together long enough to close the door behind the older woman, but then there was no holding back the flurry of half-hysterical laughter that surged up and out of her. Leaning against the door, she let it out, aware that more than a few of the chuckles were sharp-edged and almost sobs. She got herself under control quickly, though, and straightened.

“Bad boy,” she told him. “Bad, bad boy.”





Chapter Twenty-Three



Reese had ordered Chinese delivery, and with the door locked, he and Corinne were making a picnic on the floor of his office. He’d grabbed a shower, grateful for whoever’d had the forethought to put a full bathroom in the office. Now, hair still damp but back in his suit, he watched her spread out the cartons of fried rice and chicken lo mein on the tablecloth she’d snagged from the break room.

Corinne handed him a pair of chopsticks and a paper plate she’d already loaded with beef and broccoli from one of the plastic containers. “We have enough food here for ten people.”

“Leftovers. I’m a bachelor, remember? This has to last me the whole week.”

She rolled her eyes and settled back with her legs demurely tucked to the side, a plate of lo mein in her hands. “Still never learned to cook, huh?”

“Nope. Never had to.” Reese took a bite of broccoli.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Corinne set aside her plate and gave him a serious look. “So.”

Reese swallowed and wiped his mouth, then set his own plate down. “So?”

“We can’t keep doing this…this hate-fucking.”

Ouch.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“A little, yes,” she told him.

“Do you hate me, Corinne?”

“A little,” she whispered. “And it sure seemed like you hated me.”

“Maybe I did. A little.”

Megan Hart's books