Hell yes.
No, no, no, no, no. I am not going to fall for this. I’m thinking straight, which means I call bullshit. There is no way she went from enraged this morning to aroused enough to proposition me a few hours later. What would her intent be here? Maybe she believes that shit she said about me only wanting her because she’s the one woman who isn’t interested in me. Is she really hoping to test the theory of sucking me off so I’ll leave her alone?
Nah, that’s not my girl.
She’s too feisty, too proud, too determined. And while she is definitely not inexperienced, she wouldn’t be caught dead with my cock in her mouth unless she was damn sure the act of doing so would give her what she wanted.
So, what the hell is this?
I sit up straighter in my chair, gliding my hand up the outside of her thigh and feeling goose bumps sprout beneath her black tights from my touch. Her striking eyes romp all over me, questioning. She’s waiting to see what I’ll do next, wondering if I’ll take her up on her offer.
Turned on. Hopeful. Conniving.
Fucking Cash.
That’s what our conversation was about earlier. He suspects something is up with Tessa and me, and I’m guessing he’s aware of my part in the cabaret-girl debacle. You gotta fucking love him. He’s been sitting on that for a long-ass time. Impressive.
Tessa must’ve been assured something in exchange for screwing with me. I should tell her to leave. Neither of them would expect that.
But then again …
If she’s here, perhaps we should see how far she’s willing to take this.
“I’m glad you finally came to your senses. Don’t dismiss my warning though. Once won’t be enough.” I halt there, sweeping my thumb across her thigh at the hemline of her shorts and gauging her reaction before I divulge a piece of truth. “I know one taste of you would never be enough for me.”
And I see it. She’s wondering whether I mean that or whether I’m onto her, which makes me hate this entire scenario. Because it’s both. But beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.
“So, you’ve got time now?” She steps between my legs, her fingers brushing back a fallen strand of my hair. “Because I honestly don’t think I could wait another minute to have you in my mouth.”
She’s fucking good.
Keeping one hand on her thigh, I curl the other around her waist and shift her slightly so I can see the time. “I’ve got about four minutes until I have an important virtual meeting. I doubt you can finish me that quickly, but if you can be quiet …”
What the hell am I doing? This is a recipe for disaster. A hot, steamy, phenomenal disaster.
Her brows pinch. She must be realizing that I’m not going to back down and deciding whether or not she will.
“You’re listening to music.” She states that like an epiphany rather than a question, probably stalling.
“Always,” I answer, pulling out the single earbud I have in and sticking it into the case. Setting it aside, I return one hand to her hip and let my gaze linger on her doll-like face. “But I should probably limit my distractions for this meeting to only those worth the risk.”
Reaching around her, I press the button under my desk to lock the door. The mechanical click might as well be a resounding gong, sundering our levelheaded thoughts and our lust-driven tenacity. She glances at it before those alluring eyes return to me, her teeth sinking into her lip, her chest rising and falling.
“Can you be a good girl for me, Tess?”
For a second that draws out like an eternity, she simply stares at me. Every molecule of the air is in a frenzy, the string of dares between us stretched taut. And that pause has me believing I’ve won this round—in the not-being-the-one-to-forfeit sense. It still feels like a loss, until …
“Yeah,” she whispers, lowering herself to kneel between my feet.
I’m baffled. No idea if this is something she really wants, if she’s just confident that Cash will reward her for messing with me, or if she is simply stubborn enough to follow through because she won’t dare bow out first.
Smoothing my palm over her satiny hair, I widen my legs. “Scoot back a little so I can answer the call when I need to and take me out when you’re ready.”
She does as I asked, scooching backward under my desk and wasting no time unbuckling my belt. When she wrenches my zipper down, there is no hiding what she’s doing to me. My dick practically springs, peeking out above my boxer briefs, and a smile coasts up her face—one that seems genuine.
What the hell is happening here?
Two minutes. I should put a stop to this. I need to think clearly for this call.
