“Are you objecting?”
“I thought you could control yourself,” he teased. “That you would never feel an urgent enough desire to take someone in a back office.”
“You worried you can’t perform with all the people just outside this door?”
He took my hand in his and placed it on his very hard groin. “What do you think?” he growled.
“Oh, guess not,” I said, my cheeks heating up as though flustered. Was I flustered?
He kissed me while guiding me toward the desk. He pulled away, assessing our options, and I could tell he was about to make a dramatic move to swipe all the papers to the floor.
I pulled him to the couch instead. It was about the samesize as the one in Dr. Franklin’s office, shoved in the corner, and stacked with boxes of cloth napkins and aprons. I yanked one box to the floor, and it landed on its side, the contents spilling out. He lifted the other two, carefully stacking them against the wall.
The task was taking too long, so I shimmied out of my blazer in the meantime. He turned and, when he saw me, pulled his T-shirt over his head.
“People won’t bother you back here?” he asked.
I smiled at his worry. It was a complete one-eighty from the normal roles we played.
I raised my eyebrows. “Isn’t that part of the fun?”
His smile widened as though impressed.
I pushed him back toward the couch. He got the hint and sat with his back against the armrest and his legs across the cushions. Then I climbed onto his lap, straddling him.
“Hmmm,” I hummed, rocking against his erection.
“You’re determined to always give us the least possible space to work with,” he said.
“You’re the one who started the small-space brag list.”
He gave me a wicked smile and somehow managed to completely reverse our positions by wrapping an arm around my waist, pushing off the armrest, and depositing me onto my back against the opposite one. He slid me down until my head was flat on the cushion. He kneeled between my legs and undid the button on my pants, his eyes on mine while he did. He slid them down my legs and deposited them on the floor along with himself. He now kneeled on the carpet beside the couch. His mouth went to my stomach, and my eyes fluttered closed, feeling every nerve ending in my body buzz to life.
His mouth moved down, gliding along my underwearwhere his teeth scraped the material covering me.Oh, god. A zing of pleasure shot through me. It had been too long since I’d had an orgasm. I should’ve taken care of myself a few times in anticipation of this because I was going to climax embarrassingly fast. In the back, dingy office of my restaurant with all my friends on the other side of the door.
There. That did the trick. I was not on the edge anymore.
Well, I wasn’t.
Until his mouth was moving up to my breast and his hand was slipping into my underwear, easily finding its way inside me.
I gasped.
“Bad or good?” he said in a low, throaty voice.
“Good,” I said through a moan.
His free hand moved aside my bra, exposing my nipple to be gently caressed by his tongue. His finger inside me curved just right, hitting a spot that made me see stars.
I groped around for any piece of him to return the favor, but he was outside my reach. He gathered my hands in one of his and trapped them against the armrest while he continued to work me.
“I’m out of practice,” I said.
He abandoned my breast and covered my mouth with his in the softest, most intimate kiss I had ever felt. It made me want to weep or screamI love youor never let him go.
“Just relax,” he said. “Let it happen and then I can get you there all over again.”
“I…” I arched against him as he slipped another finger inside me. “I wantyouinside me.”
