Georgia pointed at my face. “I know that look. What are you planning?”
Man, those cheese fries are really wreaking havoc on my stomach. It was in turmoil.
When I shrugged my uncertainty, she made a suggestion of her own. “Maybe he’s finally getting a little glimpse into what he puts everyone else through.”
“Little Wheorgie is encouraging my scheming ways?”
Georgia nodded, and a devilish smile consumed her lips.
“Is it safe to assume this has everything to do with Thatch including the gargoyle dick in his best man speech?”
“You bet that prankster’s ass it does.”
Thatcher had finally met his match in me.
His match.
At pranking, I told myself. But the seed was already planted, and there was no way I’d be able to keep it from growing.
I strode through Thatch’s building and straight for his assistant’s desk.
“Hi, I’ve got a last-minute meeting with Thatcher Kelly.”
She looked up from her computer, and hesitance etched her face. “Uh…he’s in the middle of a conference call right now.”
“Oh, I know.” I played it off. “That’s why he asked me to come.”
She squinted in confusion and took in my not-exactly-business attire. I was pretty sure the waistband of Thatch’s underwear was sticking out of the top of my skirt like a rapper, for fuck’s sake. But people were always hesitant to deny you if you acted self-assured enough. “And you’re supposed to be on that conference call?”
“Yep,” I said, tapping her desk and walking toward his office door. “He’ll be happy I was able to make it in time.”
“But…wait…let me…” She stuttered over her words as she stood up from her desk. “I should probably let him know you’re here.”
“No worries. I got it from here.” I waved her off and proceeded to open his office door.
Thatch sat behind his big mahogany desk. His brown eyes rested behind a pair of sexy glasses and were lacking their playful edge. He was obviously concerned and very distracted with whatever was being said on the other end of the call. He didn’t look up from his desk until he heard the door close and the lock being flipped with a quiet click.
His hair was rough and unkempt as though he’d been running his hands through it constantly, and it made me want his hands in my hair. Tugging, pulling, you name it.
Oh, yeah.
My arousal was plain to see, and those brown eyes switched from serious to intrigued in a matter of seconds.
“Hi,” I mouthed, holding up a bag of “I’m sorry for falling asleep on your dick” fries. I moved around his desk until I was standing beside his chair.
He turned to face me and held up one finger, responding into the phone, “Unless you want your balls handed to you on a silver platter, I strongly suggest rethinking those investments.”
I smirked at the way Thatcher Kelly did business. I doubted many other people threatened their clients’ balls and got away with it.
I set the bag on his desk and went about my ogling. A sleek gray suit covered his huge, masculine body, and I wanted it uncovered. My pussy was pounding thanks to his all-motherfucking-business expression and its enhancement of his strong features.
He oozed power and authority, and I was getting all kinds of sexy-as-hell alpha vibes.
Oh yeah, Thatcher Kelly was a stud, and I was about to show him how sorry I was for falling asleep on his dick. The fries wouldn’t be the only meal consumed in the name of forgiveness.
I grabbed a pen and notepad off his desk as I heard him rattle off a few investment figures into the phone. I scribbled out a quick note and held it up for him to see.
Will there be anyone coming by your office in the next ten minutes?
He read the note and then met my eyes, shaking his head.
I flashed a smirk and a wink as I got down on my knees and placed my hands on his thick thighs, pushing them apart to make room. His eyebrows rose to his forehead as I undid his belt and slid down his zipper.
The second I slipped his cock out of his pants, he placed his hand over the receiver, whispering, “Cass, honey, what are you doing?”
“Telling you I’m sorry,” I responded as I stroked him in my hand. “Is that okay?” I asked, but I didn’t wait for a response, grazing my lips around his crown. Slowly, inch by inch, I slid him into my mouth as his eyes stayed fixated on what I was doing.
“Fuck,” he muttered and then cleared his throat. “No, I’m still here, Mike.”
He tasted delicious, and I loved the feel of him against my tongue—velvety smooth and hard, really fucking hard. It was all I could do to pull it out of my mouth for a little more teasing. I used my hand to outline my lips with the tip of his thick cock, alternating that move with sucking the head into my mouth. Every time his cock jumped, I sucked harder.