Yeah, right.
The office door opened. Kyleigh stepped in slow, posing with one hand on the doorjamb like she knew she was a safety hazard. Her brown skin glowed warm against black and white. Curves for days wrapped in the most disrespectful little maid outfit I’d ever seen in my life.
Short black dress, white apron tied at the back, neckline with titties spilling out. The skirt barely covered the tops of her thighs. Black thigh-high stockings hugged those thick legs I worshipped. Her feet were in little black heels that made her thick legs look even more delicious.
And them locs. She’d pulled her long, honey-brown locs half up, half down, some falling over one eye, the rest tumbling down her back. Dark red lipstick. Gold hoops. A tiny black choker on that soft throat.
I was done for. Over with.
She put one hand on her hip and lifted her fake feather duster like a mic. “Mr. Christopher, I’m here to talk to you about your housekeeping,” she said.
My mouth actually went dry. “You look… insane.”
She smirked. “You not complaining.”
“No, I am definitely not complaining.”
She walked in, hips moving slow, the skirt swishing. Little white apron bow bounced on her ass. I had to take a breath. I had to remind myself I was a father and a man of God, because my thoughts were not holy.
“Aziza would have a fit if she saw this,” I said.
“That’s why she’s at her auntie’s house,” Kyleigh answered. She ran the feather duster over the edge of my desk. “You left crumbs. Again.”
It was a lie. I didn’t care.
“You left me distracted. Again.”
She rolled her eyes, but her mouth was already tilting up. “You done with work?”
I pushed my chair back. “I am now.”
She stepped between my knees like she owned the space. She did. Her hands smoothed over my shoulders, then slid down my chest.
“You know this is payback, right? You had the nerve to come as a firefighter earlier. With that tight shirt. Walking around Freedom’s Field all wholesome with our child like you ain’t know what them old ladies were thinking.”
“You jealous of the deacon wives?” I asked.
“I’m petty. You knew exactly what you were doing, Mr. ‘I’m just here for the kids.’”
I laughed low. “You know you the only one I see.”
“Mm-hmm. We gon’ test that tonight.”
She dropped the duster onto the desk, then swung one leg over and sat on my lap like she’d done it every day for ten months. Which, honestly, she almost had. The dress rode up, thighs warm and plush on either side of me.
I grabbed her hips, fingers sinking in. “You gon’ kill me in this.”
“Not tonight,” she said. “Tonight, I’m here to serve. Crotchless panties and all”
Her mouth brushed mine, soft at first. A tease. I chased it before the second kiss even finished. She tasted like the candy she’d stolen from Aziza’s trick-or-treat bag and something that was just her: sweet and dangerous.
Sometimes it still hit me hard, how close I’d come to never getting this again.
She deepened the kiss, arms sliding around my neck. My hands moved on their own. Up her back. Down the curve of her waist. Over the swell of her hips. Every place I touched hummed at me likeYeah, you home.
She rocked once. That was all it took. Heat shot through me, fast and electric. I groaned into her mouth. She smiled against my lips, satisfied.
“Ten months and you still easy,” she whispered.
