“No. I want you in—when I—please.” She lowered her foot to the floor, the action expelling his fingers, and she pushed her shorts down. A skimpy scrap of shiny black fabric barely covered her sex. She kicked off the shorts and raised her leg around his hip, the heels giving her the perfect height to align his groin against her core.
It was wrong, so damn wrong, but the pleading in her gorgeous blue eyes kept him focused on making it right. Making it perfect. Frantically, he pushed his boxers down and freed his aching cock. There was a moment between them, an acknowledgment that nothing would ever be the same again if they didn’t call a halt to this. Still time to grasp at the last thread of his sanity… But then she guided his erection to the most heated, needy part of her and whispered, “Don’t stop, Brody.”
Sanity was overrated. He could no more stop this than stop his heart from beating.
That strip masquerading as underwear had to go. Moving it aside, he thrust into the sweet, pliant heat she offered. Jesus H. How could this pleasure have been sitting mere feet away from his desk forty hours a week? How could this even be happening?
But it was, and every pump into her made it both more real and more of a dreamlike fantasy. Worlds colliding, pleasure building, life-affirming. It was hot and sweet, wet and hard, filthy and pure, and so damn fine.
Gripping her sweet ass tighter, he lifted her flush against him, needing to seal their connection. Get closer, though it wasn’t possible. Know more, though he questioned if that was possible, too.
Dimly, he was aware of music playing, but everything narrowed to where their bodies connected, the slick suction of flesh, her whimpers of pleasure. Those whimpers turned louder, ratcheting up the coil of need in his balls. Her head fell back, the ecstasy of the moment etched on her beautiful face. She was close. He could feel it in the sounds, the way her hands clutched at his shoulders desperately, the clench of her walls as she insisted on her pleasure and then she stilled and buried her scream in his neck, muttering mostly incomprehensible words. Most of it filthy, and he strained to hear his name but either she didn’t say it or the roar in his ears heralding his own release drowned it out.
He jerked into her, emptied all he had. The frustration of the past six months, his anger at the notion of Emma performing for anyone else but him, his fury that she was here and that his life was upended because of it. He had never f*ck
ed angry before, and now he knew why. A f*ck
like this was the kind of experience a man doesn’t recover from easily. Finding pleasure in an unexpected place coupled with the raw emotions coursing through him was a dangerous combination.
Unable to break the connection, he remained inside her, absorbing those twitchy orgasmic aftershocks, the one and only place he wanted to be. Neither was she hinting that she had something better to do than bask in the glow of what they had just done.
Shit, what had they just done?
He had no time to examine that as a thunderous knock on the door ripped him back to the present.
Chapter Six
The loud rap sliced into Emma’s f*ck
-drunk daze and brought reality snapping back like a tree branch across her face.
She had just goaded her boss into screwing her and whaddya know, he had kindly obliged. Judging by his expression, he was hella surprised by this turn of events as well. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground, removed his still-hard cock from her body, and stepped back out of her immediate orbit.
The knock sounded again, louder.
“Fix yourself up,” Brody growled. “Now.”
Emma opened her mouth to protest but got snagged on the delicious sight of Brody running a hand down his still-rampant erection and tucking it back into his boxers. No wonder she’d felt so completely filled—that thing was a beast!
When she didn’t move fast enough, he rearranged her clothing with jerky movements. One look at her revealing halter summoned a sexy scowl. Off came his jacket, and he wrapped it around her shoulders. Warm spice invaded her nostrils, but she had no time to enjoy it as he was already steering her forcefully to the door, a grim slash where his mouth used to be.
“I assume you didn’t arrive here dressed like that. Go get your clothes and meet me out front.”
Again with the bossiness, this time tinged with cold disgust. “My shift’s not over.”
“What part of this do you not understand, Ms. Str—Emma? You are not working here.”
“What? Just because you were inside me does not make us betrothed, you Neanderthal jerk.”
“I already told you that no other man is going to touch you. As this job is predicated on men being able to touch you, then logic says something has to give. That would be the job.”
Yes, let’s apply logic to this messed-up situation. He yanked open the door to find Ray outside, looming. The slimeball’s gaze skittered over Brody’s jacket caping her shoulders, dropped to the possessive hand on Emma’s arm, and tracked as it circled her waist and pulled her close into Brody’s hard body.