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“I’d straddle your lap so you could feel how hot I was for you.” The little tug she gave the tie nearly made Al come on the spot.
She tipped the bottle up and took another swig to calm herself. “And if we didn’t have a deal to close first.”
CC’s pout was epic. “You’re mean.” She untangled their feet and sank onto the couch next to Al. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy and turned the fuck on to see you, but what are you doing here? Didn’t you have dinner with the Dotsons after the hearing?”
“They were a no-show.”
CC’s casual demeanor jumped off the building. She sat up straight, whirling in Al’s direction. “They what?”
“I handled it. We got the variance.”
“That’s not an answer.” Her dark brows were pinched, a deep V between them. “I thought it was important to them.” Her voice was as circumspect as her expression. She had every right to be. Al would be too if she were on CC’s side of the deal. But there was a more mundane explanation in this case.
“It is, but Mother Nature doesn’t give a flying fuck about our deal. Snow in DC grounded everything, including Bo’s plane on the runway at Dulles.”
Her features eased a measure. “Will that get here in time to sign Friday?”
“That’s the plan, as far as I know.” Loan docs had dropped today, as had the environmental report, and to spare everyone the headache of signing the week between Christmas and New Year’s, they were signing on Friday, ahead of the holiday week. “But CC, we don’t have to table close this if the weather continues to be a bitch.”
She relaxed back against the sofa. “I know. It’s just safer than shuttling the couple of wet ink docs we need. I had a colleague once whose closing docs were on a carrier plane that ran off the runway.”
“Oof, I’m sorry for them.” Al matched her posture, legs crossed her direction, their elbows brushing against the back of the couch. “And I get that you also want to make this special for Jen and Etienne.”
“E-signatures are so impersonal. Fine for the random office building or data center, but this is their dream they’re selling. They deserve more than a digital confirmation for what they built.”
Al wedged the bottle of rye between her hip and the back of the couch, then reached out a hand to brush back a flyaway strand of red. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I do.” She glanced up through her long, burnished lashes. “But the reminders don’t hurt.”
Al twirled the strand around her finger. “I really want to take you to bed tonight.” Not the first time, not by a long shot, but tonight the need was supercharged. Between the stars overhead, the warmth of the whiskey, and CC looking like the tastiest snack she’d ever seen—not to mention CC putting her heart out there like the decent human she was—her mood was like Colby’s doughnuts: sugary, tart, and full of the promise of goodness.
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” CC shifted closer, the slit in her skirt opening, the organza falling behind her knee and giving Al more fantasies than she ever needed of those thighs stretched across her lap.
Fantasies only, for now, but that didn’t mean Al couldn’t share some of those wicked thoughts with CC. “Soon,” she said as she hitched her own crossed knees higher, blocking anyone from seeing her hand breach the space between them and land on CC’s lower thigh. “For now I’m gonna tell you what you’re gonna go home and do tonight.”
CC’s eyes cut to the ballroom doors she’d exited minutes ago.
“You liked it earlier,” Al said. “The thought of straddling my lap with a room full of people watching.” CC opened her mouth to voice the caveat, but Al beat her to it. “If they weren’t your colleagues.”
“But they are, and I can’t...”
“I know.”
Al moved to withdraw her hand, but CC clasped her wrist, keeping Al’s palm pressed to her thigh, then inched it higher so Al’s fingertips were brushing just inside the juncture of her thighs, right above her clit. “I can’t go any further than this, not here.”
Al could feel the damp material, could feel the trembles that rippled through CC, shivers that had nothing to do with the cool breeze whipping around them. “Can I continue?” she said, voice lowered, her middle finger drawing the lightest of circles, teasing CC through layers of material. She couldn’t reach her clit in this position, but stroking near it was having the intended effect, judging by the breathiness of CC’s reply.
“Tell me, what am I gonna do when I get home?” CC retrieved the whiskey bottle with her hand not resting on Al’s wrist and tipped it back for a sip, keeping up the ruse of two colleagues sharing a drink.
“You got a dildo?” Al asked.
“I do.”
“A pillow to hold it?”
“I do.”
“I knew you were naughty.” Al grinned as the scene came the rest of the way together in her head, the mental picture causing her own clit to throb. “If we were somewhere I could slide my hand down and palm your cunt, would I find snaps on your leotard?”
