Page 120 of Off the Grid

Just why?

Why do I find myself telling her shit I don’t even talk with my mates about?

Granted I don’t fuck my mates either so there’s that.

But she switched topics when I asked about her. Turned the focus on me. Asked me about my dad when clearly there are things going on with her dad.

Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe she’s here to learn the ropes and eventually take over the company.

But if that’s the case, then why not just tell the whole of Moretti Motorsports that?

“This is perfect. The view. The night. The—”

“Company?”

“Yes, the company. Thank you for bringing me here,” Camilla murmurs from where she’s tucked against my side.

I have so many ways I can respond to her comment, but fuck if it hasn’t been a pretty serious conversation for a night where I just wanted to laugh and not think.

Maybe it’s time to change course.

“It is.” I nod and decide to pull out the cheesy line. “But there’s something else I’d much rather look at.”

She leans back, her arm still hooked through mine, and snorts. “Ah, it seems that someone is trying to flatter me so he can get some . . .” She narrows her eyes and squints. “What would you call this?”

God. How is she reading my mind? How does she know where my train of thought is and prompt it?

Then again, I am a guy. At any given moment, my mind is one thought away from sex.

“Well, it sure as fuck isn’t paddock pussy, so I’m thinking it’s . . . scenic pussy?” I offer and then bark out a laugh when she nods her head emphatically.

“Exactly. Scenic pussy. That has a nice ring to it,” she says as she shifts up on her knees and faces me. “Well, are you?”

I don’t even fight my smile as I stare at her and welcome the devilish gleam in her eye. “Oh, is this where we roleplay? Where you are . . . what are you?”

She bats her lashes and twirls a lock of her hair. “I’m just the lowly secretary trying to get my very important boss’s attention on my . . . work.”

“Your work?”

“Mm-hmm.” She leans forward and licks the seam of my lips. “My assets.”

“I’m partial to those assets.” I palm the cheeks of her arse and pull her to me. She makes quick work straddling me so that we’re face-to-face. I’m not going to complain.

“Oh, Mr. Riggs,” she coos breathlessly. “Whatever do you need?”

I’m hard instantly as she wriggles over my jean-confined cock.

“Me bent over the desk? Me on my knees? Me pressed against the window, ass out?” She breaks character and starts laughing.

It’s the best fucking sound ever.

In fact, I’ve come to love hearing it. At headquarters. At the track. Breathless in my bed.

Who knew the woman I initially thought had a stick shoved up her arse would be someone whose banter, sense of humor, and quick wit, I’d Iook forward to spending time with?

I lean forward and kiss just where her shirt is unbuttoned on her breastbone. “All I know is I’m really liking this new change. The unbuttoned shirt. The tank top. It gives everyone else a hint, but it’s a reminder to me what I’m tasting later.” I lick a line up the curve of her neck. The heat of her pussy through our clothes is my own personal heaven and hell.

“You never answered my question, Mr. Riggs,” she says, falling back into character as she grinds over me.