“Door’s locked.” His voice is rough. Like he’s barely holding himself together.
His mouth finds my neck, right where he left those marks two nights ago, and rational thought dissolves into static. He sucks on the concealer, then bites down.
“Nico,” I whimper.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His hair is disheveled from my fingers. His eyes are dark and hungry and focused entirely on me. The scars on his face catch in the light... that twisted tissue should probably make him look intimidating but instead just makes him look real.
God, he’s beautiful.
His hands find the buttons of my blouse.
He doesn’t fumble. Doesn’t rush. Just methodically works each button free while watching my face, and somehow that’s hotter than if he’d just ripped it open.
“This blouse,” he murmurs, pushing the fabric aside to reveal my bra. “You have no idea what this blouse does to me. The gap between the third and fourth buttons...”
“I have some idea.” My voice comes out breathier than intended. “You stare at it constantly when you think I’m not looking.”
“I stare at everything constantly.” His thumb traces along the edge of my bra cup. “You. Your hands when you type. The way you bite your cheek when you’re holding back. The way you smell like vanilla and jasmine and coffee and it drives me fucking insane.”
Oh.
Oh god.
My cheeks flush hot. I’m not used to being seen like this. Being catalogued. Being wanted with this kind of focused intensity.
I used to think I was invisible to him.
How wrong I was.
His mouth is trailing down my collarbone and every nerve ending in my body lights up like a Christmas tree.
He reaches under my bra, cups my breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I arch into his touch without meaning to.
“So responsive,” he murmurs against my skin. “Every time. Like you’re surprised someone wants to touch you.”
“Maybe I am.”
He looks up at that. Something complicated moves through his expression. “Then everyone you’ve been with before was a fucking idiot.”
God.
Stop saying things like that.
He shoves down my bra cup and his mouth closes over my nipple and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from moaning too loud. The cleaning crew.... they’re still out there somewhere.
But then I hear it. The distant whir of a vacuum cleaner starting up down the hall.
Cover noise.
Nico hears it, too. His smile against my skin is wicked. “Perfect timing.”
“We’re using the cleaning staff as cover for office sex?”
“Uh huh.” He straightens up, his hands moving to his belt.
It clinks as he opens it. The sound of hiszipper is obscenely loud to my ears, even with the vacuum cleaner whirring in the distance.
Through the gap in his trousers, I can see him straining against his boxer briefs. Already hard. Already leaking, judging from the wet spots.
