“Yes. I have a lot of work to do. If there’s nothing you need, I’ll start.”
His eyes widen a fraction, and then he nods. “Nothing yet.”
“Well, then. I’ll be in my office if you change your mind.”
I head to my office, knowing my words held an innuendo I didn’t intend. My words came out husky and inviting. Far too inviting for an employee and her boss.
I busy myself for hours, trying to snuff out the need I have for him. I can hardly control myself, and it’s ridiculous. One night should not make a sex-crazed maniac out of me.
Occasionally, I hear the hum of his voice echo from down the hall, implying he’s not happy with someone or something. Typically, that attitude would be directed at me, but not today.
I pull up the list Grant sent me yesterday and start to work on the items I still haven’t done. Must distract myself.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when I hear a discreet cough coming from the doorway. I peek up from behind my desk. Grant is standing in front of me. How long has he been standing there, staring at me?
“Would you like to have lunch with me?” he asks, and as much as I want to, I can’t accept. I don’t think I can trust myself to be professional today. My body is aching for him.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
A smirk takes over his face. He obviously is not buying what I’m selling. “Are you avoiding me, Miss Miller?” The playful tone of his voice has my need intensifying.
“No. I’m just busy, and you tempt me to want to do things we can’t do in public places.” I need to think straight, and I can’t with Grant Lancaster being charming and boyish. It’s a recipe for career and life disaster. He’ll be my ruin, but I’m not allowing that to happen today, no matter how much I want to. If I’m alone with him, we’ll be caught in the office on his desk. Or maybe on the floor. Who the hell knows, but we’ll definitely be caught with our pants down.
He smirks wider. “You are avoiding me.”
“For both of our sakes. Now go get yourself lunch and then get back to work.” I smile up at him and blow a quick kiss.
I get it. I know why she’s keeping me at arm’s length in the office. We can’t flaunt our relationship in plain sight. It could cause issues on a number of fronts, and Chelsea is the least of my concerns. Bridget is right, but fuck, I don’t like it. Why can’t things be back to the way they were before the party, when her guard was down and mine was, too? It’s going to be a long few months if I have to pretend she’s not important to me.
I pick up my phone and dial her extension. She’s not even able to say her name before I’m firing out, “Bridget, my office. Now.” My tone is stern but not harsh.
“Oh, okay,” she squeaks. Timid, scared. Good. She should be. She can’t hide from me anymore.
She walks in, her upper teeth nibbling her lower lip. I look at that lip. One kiss. To taste her just once. She dangles in front of me like forbidden fruit hanging from a tree begging me to grab it. To taste it. To savor it. Her lips part on a sigh and I can no longer think straight.
“Close the door.” She follows my instructions. I stand and march toward her. “This needs to stop.” Her pupils enlarge at my words. “I know what you’re doing, but it’s not what I want.”
She straightens her back, and I sense she’s trying to appear taller and not intimidated by my voice. “I’m not hiding from you,” she says coyly. Now she’s intentionally toying with me. I see her smirk. She knows how much I want her—need her.
“I should get back to work.”
Before I can stop myself, I cage her in beside the closed door. “Like hell you’re leaving, Bridget.” We’re so close I can feel her brushing against me, and then I close the distance. Taking her mouth. Owning it. My kiss is anything but sweet. It’s angry and possessive. My kiss demands her to kiss me back. I slide my tongue against the seam of her lips and she parts them for me. Good girl.
Her mouth opens wider. Her tongue meets mine and I take a step closer, her back hitting the wall. When her arms wrap around my neck, I’m lost from her touch. I find myself pulling at her, grabbing her. Feeling her. She’s compliant in my arms, allowing me to have my wicked way. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m lifting her into my arms and placing her on my desk.
She shudders and I smile. Reaching out, I push her down so she’s lying flat, her bare legs dangling over the edge. I trace her thigh, trailing up and continuing the path until my hand is beneath the hem of her skirt. I lift the material slowly, and goose bumps form across her alabaster skin. Each inch the material moves up has Bridget shivering. I stroke higher until I touch the soft cotton covering her. Her heat radiates through the thin material.
God, I need to be inside her.
I run a circle over the sensitive flesh hidden beneath. Teasing her. Torturing her, and ultimately tormenting myself.
“Please,” she moans.
“You want me to fuck you?” I rub a little faster. A ragged moan leaves her mouth as I push harder to apply more pressure. “Do you? Is that what you want?”
She lifts her hips in answer. I chuckle and remove her thong. With one push of my hand, I spread her legs farther apart. She’s a goddamn feast in front of me. Glistening. Begging me to taste her. Fuck. My tongue juts out and meets her sensitive skin.
“Oh, God.” She pants and I part her with my finger, my tongue continuing its assault on her bundle of nerves. I lick. I suck. I move my fingers inside her.
One.
Two.
Three fingers.
She stretches to accommodate the invasion.
I draw out her pleasure. Making her pant, making her beg until she finally bites down on her hand to silence her screams. When I feel her body tremble around my finger, I know she’s ready for more.
With my free hand, I unzip and pull a condom out from my pocket. When I put it in my pocket the other day, I hated myself for wishful thinking, but now I’ve never been so happy with a decision I made. I settle between her hips, cup her ass, and lift her up, aligning myself with her core.
Thrust.
A ripple of sensation moves through my veins.
I slam inside.
Pull out.
Thrust.
She can’t help but whimper every time I withdraw. Her nails grip at my skin. I increase my speed, slamming inside her over and over again until she’s shuddering her orgasm.
It’s too intense.
It’s too fucking much.
I want to taste her, feel her, own her all at the same time. This woman has me undone. Every muscle inside me tightens and I explode, too.
As fast as I hit my high, I come crashing back to reality. I just let my boss fuck me on his desk. Oh my God. What have I done?
I’ve been playing with fire for a long time, but there’s a big difference between making out and fucking him in the office. Not a huge difference, but shit.
What have I become?