He came forward and touched my cheek, lifting my chin up until we were close enough to kiss, but he didn’t do it. He just looked at my smeared mascara and faded lipstick.
“Let me do this for you, Gia. Let me do something.”
“Because we had a glorious night and now you’ve dumped me?” I swallowed, wondering what had possessed me to broach on this topic. But once embarked, I couldn’t turn back. “Those were the rules when we started. Look, I’ll admit it—I want more from you. But it’s okay if you don’t agree. Still, I’m not going to have you rushing to my rescue out of guilt because you don’t feel the same for me. That’s not how I roll.”
I watched a muscle in his jaw twitch. He was thinking hard about something, but God only knew what it was. And since he wasn’t going to talk, I took a deep breath and stepped back from him. “Things are good. You’re letting me do the publicity. Our working relationship is going great. I’m not going to mess that up because I’ve gone all girly over you.” I squared my shoulders. “I’m not.”
“And what if I’ve gone all guy-like over you?”
I couldn’t stop the jolt of hope that crashed through me. Did he feel a fraction of what I felt for him? “Don’t toy with me, Connor. It’s cr—” I meant to say cruel, but I never got the word out. His mouth was on mine before the word finished.
I melted right into him. No thought, just a complete dissolution of any willpower. He was touching me, his hands on my hips pulling me hard against his hot groin. And his mouth was on mine, his tongue thrusting inside while my blood started singing, yes, yes, yes! I didn’t want to want him this much, but since I did, I wasn’t going to stop him when he backed me up against my desk. Papers scattered as I planted my bottom on the hard surface and wrapped my legs around him.
I tugged at his uniform shirt, untucking it so that I could run my hands up his chest. Oh God, he felt better than I remembered—hot flesh, bulging muscles, and the coarse rub of hair against my palms. I was in a skirt without panty hose, which made it incredibly easy to squeeze his hips between my thighs and pull myself up on him.
It was insane. I was crawling all over him, but he wasn’t running away. In fact, he was helping as he pulled up my skirt and palmed my bottom. Then I felt my thong give way, ripped off my body. I was thrilled.
He left my mouth to kiss down my neck. I fell back enough that when he started nuzzling into the V of my blouse, I quickly stripped it away. Thank God for tiny buttons. Then his hands went to my back, unhooking my bra with ease. My hands were at his waistband, trying to unbutton his pants, sliding my hands down his hips to push them down until his glorious penis sprang free.
He groaned as I fondled him, but no more than me when his hands began shaping my breasts for his mouth. He sucked hard on my nipples, one after the other, while I stroked the wet tip of his erection.
Some part of me screamed that this was crazy. We were in my office before a game. We couldn’t do this. But the bulk of my thoughts were on getting a condom from my purse so that we absolutely could.
I pushed back from him and reached over my desk, trying to pull my purse out of a drawer. I had no idea if he knew what I was doing, but it didn’t matter. As I stretched backward, he spread my legs and dove straight down between them.
His tongue swept over me in strokes that had my whole body singing with hunger. His hands were strong where they gripped my thighs, and his shoulders were broad as he pushed between them.
There was no elegance in what he did, certainly not compared to the night we’d had a week ago, but I didn’t care. This wild assault kept my thoughts at bay and buried me in sensation. I bucked in his hands, then pressed my fist into my mouth to keep from screaming. And I exploded on his tongue in a wild eruption of pleasure.
Then I heard him rip open a foil packet. I managed to open my eyes in time to see him putting on a condom. But how? I hadn’t given him one. Which meant he’d had to have been carrying it himself.
A flush of pleasure spiked through me. He’d been carrying a condom when he came to see me. He’d been thinking about this, too.
Then there were no more thoughts as he positioned himself against me. Our eyes met for a split second. There seemed to be a question in his, and I almost laughed. Did he think I was going to refuse him?
“Yes,” I said. “Yes!” And then because he still didn’t thrust, I pushed up on my elbows and spoke plainly. “Fuck me hard, Connor. Right. Now.”
He slammed inside me. The sudden invasion shot lightning through every nerve ending. I fell back again on the desk while he pounded inside me.
I imagined myself at that moment, what I looked like, sprawled open with him jack-hammering between my legs. I pictured the clench of his buttocks, I saw his pectorals bunch and his arms thicken as he gripped my hips. He was pounding inside me, and I wanted it harder, deeper, longer.
“Touch yourself,” he grunted.
I hardly needed the extra stimulation, but his eyes were on me, burning hot on my breasts.
I plumped them for him to see. I wrapped my legs around his back while I pinched my nipples and shivered at the sensation.
His tempo was impossibly fast, and his jaw was clenched tight. And then it hit.
Orgasm. It ricocheted wildly inside me as I arched and bucked on the desk.
He rode me still, holding me with his large hands while he pounded.
Over and over. Again and again.
Then he came.
I felt the rigid eruption inside me. His body tightened, his eyes slammed shut, and his head dropped back in bliss while he seemed to screw himself deeper inside me.
