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Reese’s gruff voice sounds behind me. Of course it would be him. Of course my mind would build a fake dream version to do nasty things to me first thing in the morning.
“I wouldn’t complain if you’d hurry up.”
His laugh is warm and tender. I love the way it drops need deep into the pit of my belly. My pussy throbs to the sound of his laughter, his sexy, throaty amusement. He spreads the lips of my pussy, his rough athlete’s fingers immediately circling and caressing the aching bud of my clit. I arch, pussy soaked immediately as he touches and explores my entrance.
“What a wet girl you are,” he praises. “So wet for me. So fucking pretty when you want it this bad.”
His filthy words make my ears tingle. “Reese… please…”
I gasp loud when he slips his fingers into me. They push into my tight folds, curling perfectly where I need them. I rock my hips back into his palm. The sweet friction makes me tighten around his fingers like I can lock him in place forever.
“Please…” I beg again.
“Shh, baby,” he says, tucking a lock of sweat-plastered hair back behind my ear. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
Reese bites into my shoulder. It pins me in place. I’m at his mercy as he pushes my pajama shorts down more, shimmying them past my knees. He keeps his fingers in my pussy as his thumb strokes my clit.
I know this has to be a dream, because no man alive could do this so perfectly. He touches me the way I want, just where I need it, before I even know.
I feel something hard slide against my ass, thick and throbbing. It slips between my thighs. A thrill ignites inside of me. Reese gently thrusts his hips, fucking himself on my thighs. He grunts, sleepily groaning behind me.
“Fuck, Olivia… I’m gonna die if I don’t bury myself inside you.”
The head of his cock presses to my entrance. I lean back against him, eager and needy to be full of more than just fingers. He used his fingers to spread me open and slide his?—
Noise. Panic. A sharp peal of displeasure from the crib.
The illusion shatters. My eyes fly open.
But the feeling of Reese’s hands on me and his cock damn near in me does not go away.
It wasn’t a dream.
I startle, and so does Reese. Violet lets out another cry and from down the hall, there’s another voice.
“Reese?”
It’s Paula.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I scramble to pull my shorts back up. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a fucking dream.
My boss and I were about to fuck in the middle of his daughter’s room, half-asleep, with his assistant lurking in the hallway like the damn Prude Police.
I’m supposed to be fixing my reputation—not setting it on fire and launching it into the stratosphere.
“Hey, princess,” I coo, “hey, hey, it’s okay?—”
I’m already on my feet, wriggling my clothes back into place. Reese is doing the same, still on his back on the makeshift mattress. His cock is tucked back in his pants but it’s still hard enough to pitch a tent beneath the thin material of his gray sweats.
We’re both disheveled when the nursery door opens. “Reese, are you in?—”
Paula stops mid-sentence. I manage to get Violet into my arms to start soothing her, but there’s no saving the scene. Some things can’t be swept under the rug, and this is one of them.
The evidence is just too damning. I’m standing, my shorts still askew. Reese is on the floor in the middle of our pile of blankets and pillows, trying and failing to hide the biggest hard-on I’ve ever seen.
He barely makes eye contact with Paula.
He doesn’t look at me at all.
