“Are you even listening?” she asks, looking up, green eyes slicing through the fog in my head.
“Like my life depends on it,” I say.
She looks at me for a second and I blow her a kiss. She smiles but goes back to the document and starts reading aloud, puttingon a cartoonishly nasal version of my ex-wife’s voice. I think we did a great job at planning tomorrow’s hearing. The Child Services already said that Livy’s words weigh the most and each time they checked on us, we presented the perfect family life and with Jenna being my legal wife, my ex had nothing against me. Okay maybe that little fight but come on… it’s Hockey not Badminton.
Once Jenna finishes, there’s a silence. It lasts just long enough to feel intimate, which is always dangerous with my wife. She stacks the papers neatly and leans back, folding her arms.
“Anything else?” I ask, and she gives me a look that could mean literally anything.
She uncrosses her legs, and for a second her skirt hikes up enough to show the full pattern on her stockings. I swallow hard. Dear God.
“That’s all for now,” she says, but she doesn’t reach for another file. She just sits there, fingers drumming on the desk.
I look at her and she looks at me. It’s not a standoff, exactly, but it kind of has that flavor. I can’t remember the last time a woman held my attention for more than ten seconds without me undressing her in my head. With Jenna, I’m undressing her and also waiting for her to punch me in the face, and honestly, I don’t know which one I want more. I know she has more work to do because of my stupid outburst on the ice. But if I can save a friend, I do it. That’s just the way I am.
I’m about to stand up when she slides off her chair and perches herself on the edge of her desk. The move is so fluid it’s almost choreographed, like she’s rehearsed it a hundred times. Her skirt rides up even higher, and she smooths it down with both palms, but only just.
She looks down at her own knees, then back at me.
“You know what I hate about you?” she says, voice barely above a whisper.
“Only one thing?”
“I hate that you never act sorry about anything. Not in high school, not now. Even when you’re the one who made me work all night.”
I feel my stomach tighten. “I don’t do apologies well.”
“I know.” She tilts her head, hair slipping out of the bun. “But sometimes you should. I’ know a way or two you could apologize for making me worry about you and for working harder than I should.” And just like that she presses a button on her desk, and I hear the door’s automatic shut. Her office is frosted glass and I know no one can see us.
I stand up, and walk to her side of the desk. I’m towering over her, but somehow it feels like she’s got all the leverage. I rest my hands on the desk on either side of her hips. The papers crinkle under my palms. She doesn’t move, just watches me like I’m an interesting exhibit at a zoo.
“I know my wife’s a naughty little brat, but are you sure? It’s your office…” I’d be lying if I said that just the thought of fucking her on her desk doesn’t make my horny dick twitch.
“Well then try to not make me scream too loud,” she says with that flirty grin of hers that almost makes me come in my pants.
I kiss her. She tastes like espresso and wintergreen. Her hands grab the front of my shirt, like she’s trying to keep from falling, but she’s the one pulling me closer.
The first time I touch her leg, she shudders, remembering what I can do to her. I drag my thumb along the inside of her thigh, feeling the silk of her stockings and the warmth underneath. She huffs out a laugh into my mouth, like she’s surprised I have the self-control.
“You knew my stockings weakness,” I say, biting into her neck.
“Of course.”
“Well, if that doesn’t sound like a little punishment is needed.”
“What do you m—” It’s all she can say because in the next minute I am the one sitting on her desk with her naked ass on my lap and I slap it. Playfully.
“If that’s not my little lawyer at my mercy.”
She’s wearing that lacy shit underneath. I should’ve known. She planned this and just the realization makes my dick so hard it hurts against the seam of my pants.
I take a second to just look at her ass, those round cups, the black string tanga that vanishes in the middle of her crease. I squeeze her round cheeks and cup them. God, her ass is just perfection.
“Since you’re the one being all filthy and kinky, I think you need to apologize first.”
In one swift motion, I pull her down to her knees. She drops, not gracefully like some demure princess—no, she goes down like a sinner in church, and I can’t get enough of the sight. I jump down on her chair, bringing her closer to my throbbing dick.
Like the good girl she is, she’s already scrambling at my belt. Her lips are parted just enough to tease me with the wet heat inside. My cock springs free, thick and flushed, veins pulsing under smooth skin like it’s begging for her mouth.
