I just had sex with my assistant in a honeymoon suite on Christmas morning.
And I meant every word I said to her.
"I can hear you thinking," Claire murmurs against my skin.
"I'm always thinking."
"Well, stop." She props herself up on one elbow to look at me. Her hair is a disaster, my fault, and her lips are swollen, also my fault. She looks thoroughly satisfied and completely beautiful. "Whatever you're about to say about work or HR or why this is complicated, just don't. Not right now."
"Claire, we do need to talk about—"
"No, we don't." She's giving me that stubborn look I've seen when she's negotiating with difficult clients. "Not today. We justhad sex for the first time after an eternity of mutual pining. Can we just... exist in that for a while? Please?"
She's right. For once in my life, I should stop overthinking and just be.
"Okay," I hear myself say.
She smiles and kisses me. It starts soft but quickly turns heated, and I'm pulling her on top of me, my hands sliding down to grip her hips.
She straddles me, and I can feel myself already getting hard again. At forty-two, I should probably need more recovery time, but apparently Claire Abbott defies all logic.
She feels it too, pressing against her, and she grins. "Again already?"
"You have no idea what you do to me."
"Show me."
I flip us so she's underneath me, her gasp turning into a laugh, and I kiss that smile off her face. This time is different—less desperate, more thorough. I take my time exploring her body.
When I kiss my way down her stomach, she tenses slightly.
"Garth—"
"Relax." I settle between her thighs, hooking her legs over my shoulders. "I want to taste you properly this time."
Before she can protest, I put my mouth on her. She's still wet from before, from us, and the taste is intoxicating. I work her with my tongue, finding the rhythm that makes her hips lift off the bed.
"Oh God," she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair.
I slide two fingers inside her while my tongue circles her clit, and she practically comes off the bed. She's sensitive, responsive, making these sounds that go straight to my cock.
"Garth, I'm going to—"
I double down, curling my fingers, and she comes with my name on her lips. I work her through it until she's pulling me up, breathless.
"Inside me," she demands. "Need you inside me again."
I kiss my way back up her body, taking my time despite her impatience. When I finally push into her, I shudder as her heat envelops me. She's still tight, still perfect, but this time there's no hesitation, no uncertainty.
I start slowly, savoring every stroke, watching her face. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, lips parted, and she's looking at me like I'm everything.
"Garth." Her nails drag down my back. "Harder."
"Patience," I tell her, keeping the pace deliberate.
She whimpers in frustration, trying to move her hips faster, but I pin them down. "You've made me wait long enough. I think you can wait a few more minutes."
"That's mean."
