The kiss.
The confident demand that he take her to his bed.
The way her legs wrapped around his hips and didn’t let go.
He huffed a breath and rocked back, spreading his legs in a fruitless attempt to make some room in his jeans. Nope, they were impossibly tight now, the denim stretched over a cock that wanted to relive every single second. The way her fingers felt, the sound of her orgasm, the scent of her arousal and the gorgeous flush across her skin as she trembled afterwards.
A spreading pink he got an up close view of as he wiped his come off her belly.
He hadn’t spent enough time kissing her tits. She should have come more times than just once. He could have—
“Josh?”
He yanked his hand off his throbbing cock and threw his upper body forward so he was leaning on the desk when Monica appeared in the doorway.
“Hi,” she said softly, and the warmth in her gaze only made his balls pull even tighter.
Don’t go, he wanted to say. Instead he swallowed around the lump in his throat and said, “Did you have fun?”
The wide smile said she did. She came in and propped her hip on the edge of his desk. “They’re very concerned about you.”
He choked on a laugh. “Really?”
“They want you to be happy.”
I am happy, he wanted to say. But he wasn’t. He hadn’t been happy when she arrived, and he wouldn’t be when she left. He hadn’t even managed to be happy for most of the time she had been here, but there had been some moments in there where he couldn’t have been happier if he’d tried.
Because Monica made him happy. The realization swelled inside him, a big, bright knowledge that begged to be shared.You make me happy, he tested out in his head.
He couldn’t tell her that. It would make their next steps so fucking messy.
And he really didn’t want that.
What he wanted, more than anything else, was to not cause her any more pain.
So he gave her a rueful smile. “They think they’re marriage counsellors.”
Her eyes crinkled as she shook her head. “We don’t need that.”
“No.” He held out his hand, and she hooked it with two fingers. Warm, sizzling energy coursed up his arm. From the way her eyes flared bright, she felt it, too.
He pushed his chair back enough to turn his legs sideways.
She glanced down at his lap, and yeah, he was still hard. Even if he hadn’t started that way, the electric spark of her touch would have filled him tight.
He patted his free hand against his thigh. An invitation, if she wanted. “Come here.”
She stepped around the corner of the desk and slid onto his lap. Her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers like silk against his skin, and she exhaled shakily. “Hi.”
He brushed his knuckles against her jaw. “I realized something over breakfast.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to be your friend.”
She laughed, a low and throaty reaction.
“It sounded better when my brother said it.”
