“To take a critical meeting.”
Before I could protest, Jersey pulled me in, shut the door, and crushed me against it. He stared into my eyes like a man possessed.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
“What?” My throat grew dry, and I could barely croak out the word.
“I’ve had a thing for you for a long, long time.”
“I bet you say that to all the publicists.”
“No,” he said. “Damn it, Jacine. How long have we known each other? How many pool parties with you dancing around in your bikinican a man take? Can you tell me all that time you never noticed me, never wondered what it would be like to be with me?”
Of course, I did. What girl wouldn’t? But like anyone we worked with - off limits.
“You are my client. I’m supposed to keep a professional distance. I can’t look out for your best interests if—”
“That’s your father talking, Jacine. And I’m damned tired of listening to him.”
His hips pressed into mine as his mouth descended on mine, hungry and demanding as if to prove a point. His velvet tongue teased my lips encouraging me to take him in, stealing my ability to breathe.
Jersey’s hand squeezed my breast and then fluidly my nipple between his thumb and forefinger spreading fire through my body.
This was wrong. Illicit. And so damn good I didn’t want him to stop. My hand strayed to his straining bulge. Damn, he was big, and he moaned as I stroked it through his jeans.
Without warning, he lifted me and spun me around then set me on the edge of the conference table.
“What are you doing?”
He smiled at me. “I’m hungry.”
With his arms, he threw my legs over my shoulders and then pushed the hem of my dress to my hips.
“Mmmm,” he said as he eyed my black lace panties.
His tongue was on me and around me sucking my clit through the panties, and my head fell back. He lashed and nibbled as he growled shooting a vibration through me that snaked up my spine. Then in one swift move, he yanked at the panties, literally tearing them off me with a snap. His head went between my legs again continuing his rampage, as if he was trying to claim me. His tongue found my folds and speared me, lashing back and forth.
He pulled back as I gasped, wanting and needing more.
“You taste so damn good,” he said. “I can’t get enough.”
Jersey dipped his head once more between my thighs, latched his mouth on my clit and lashed it unmercifully. I gasped and moaned while I clutched at his long, dark hair that swung wildly as he played on stage giving up his passion in song. But here he was giving his ardor to me, only me, his singular audience, and at this moment his most ardent fan, and I screamed out his name as relentless pleasure blazed through me like a fireball streaking the night.
Or I would have if someone didn’t rattle the doorknob trying to get in.
Damn if this didn't turned out to be the most frustrating day.
