She isn’t there. Nor is she in the kitchen or out on the deck.
“Mandy?” I call as I search the penthouse.
Claws click on the hardwood floor, and Pepper comes running toward me from a side hallway, followed by her owner.
“Hi, Salinger—you’re home early… er than I was expecting.” Mandy’s jumpy.
I’m immediately suspicious. “What happened? What’s wrong? Did he contact you? Did you see him?”
“No, I’m fine, Salinger. Honest.” She’s chewing on her lip, standing on one bare foot and scratching the back of her leg with the toes of the other. Nervous. Fidgety.
“You’re hiding something from me.” I stare at her.
“Nope. Everything’s great—well, except for the new underwear you bought me.” Her nose wrinkles. “I can’t believe you got me thongs, of all things.”
I round on her, and she backs away. I grab her waist, pull her toward me. “You think,” I growl, my grip tightening on her waist, “that I don’t know when someone is trying to distract me with sex?”
She pants against my mouth.
“Tell me, Mandy—what are you hiding?” I push her until her back thumps against the bare wall of the hallway. The waistband of her little short-shorts slides down easily.
“You can’t tell me”—I palm her through the lacy white fabric—“that the only thing you’re hiding from me is that you don’t like my choice of fashion.”
She whimpers as I pull back from her and tug at her shirt, slowly lifting it over her head. Her huge tits are full and round in the matching bra. I lean in and suck the hard pink nipple through the sheer fabric.
“This bra is not full coverage. You cannot throw away a woman’s own bra.” She’s trying to stay in control, but her voice quivers.
“All the elastic was going,” I tell her flatly. “I bet you had it since college. Stop pretending to be a martyr. Now, turn around. Slowly.”
She spins slowly in front of me so I can admire the curve of her ass in the thong, the way the bra’s lacy straps crisscross over her back. “If you come clean, I’ll eat your ass out in that thong.”
A thong that her stalker has never had his hands on and never will.
She swallows. “Right here?”
“I’ll do it in my bed, really give you the princess treatment.”
She’s biting her lip again, hunger and desire in her wide eyes.
“Tell me,” I murmur, placing my hands on the wall on either side of her head. I lean in, kiss her softly, then do it harder. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t…”
I slam my hands on the wall beside her head, and she screams and claps her hands to her ears.
“Stop fucking with me, Mandy, and tell me.”
“Psycho.”
Grabbing her neck, I kiss her hard. “Damn right. I fucking told you that you make me crazy.”
“You were insane before I came along,” she spits.
I respond by hooking two fingers on the strap of the thong and pulling it, making her gasp as the fabric slides along the slit that I know is already swollen with desire for me.
No matter if she tells me or not, I’m fucking her tonight. I didn’t get enough of her pussy in my office.
Pepper trots past me down the hall.
