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He cried out as pleasure ripped through his center and blessed release consumed him. She rocked into him, drawing his orgasm out until he had to grab her hips
to still her body. When the waves of ecstasy finally subsided, he leaned over her back and kissed her spine.
When their breathing had returned to almost normal, she said, “I’m going to have to change offices.”
He lifted his head, his heart suddenly panging with hurt. “I didn’t live up to your expectations?”
“Baby, you exceeded them so much that I’ll never get any work done. I’ll be too busy dwelling on the things you did to my body here. And in the elevator. And downstairs.”
He grinned, feeling better. Not as good as he would have felt if she’d dwelled on the things he did to her emotions—to her heart and to her soul—but he had faith that he’d bring her to that point eventually.
“So instead of working, you’ll be fantasizing?” he asked, pulling out of her body, his breath catching as he watched their combined cum dribble from her reddened pussy and down her thigh. He knelt at her feet and licked at the salty, slightly bitter mess they’d made together.
She gasped. “Jesus, Owen, you’re so dirty.”
He stopped just shy of her pussy lips. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I fucking love it. I won’t just sit here fantasizing about you when I’m behind this desk; I’ll have my hand in my panties touching myself.”
He groaned in appreciation of that visual and gently licked her drenched hole.
She sucked a pained breath through her teeth, and he immediately knew what that meant. “Sore?”
“Very,” she admitted.
He kissed her tender flesh, hoping to heal her agony. “I should have taken the piercing out.”
“No, it was wonderful. Perfect. I wouldn’t change a second of it. And you’re wonderful. Perfect. I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
This woman was very good for his ego.
She sighed. “But being this sore means you’ll have to spend more time with the clothed version of me.”
He traced her opening with the tip of his tongue. “I happen to like the clothed version of you.”
“Even if she’s walking like a cowboy who rode a thousand miles on a spiked saddle?”
He chuckled, loving her wit. “Especially if she’s walking like that.”
He leaned away, and she lifted herself from the desk before dropping to her knees so they were face to face. “Would it be dirty of me to kiss you after you’ve been licking my cum-filled pussy?”
“Very dirty.”
She melded her mouth to his in a tongue-teasing, lips-caressing, teeth-nibbling kiss. She pulled away after a moment, her dark eyes searching his.
“Would it be dirty of me to lick the cum off your cock?”
“Dirty and dangerous,” he said.
“I’m not worried about germs.”
He chuckled. “Dangerous because you might get a rise out of me, and then I’ll either have to fuck that sore pussy again or take your ass.”
“Or I could suck you off,” she said, lowering her head until her warm breath teased the head of his cock.
When her tongue danced over his sensitive flesh and lust slammed into his gut once again, he figured they never would make it to the next museum.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Caitlyn had given Owen the best blow job of his life—his words—and found all of her discarded clothes—half in the elevator and half next to Joyce’s desk—and given him a brief tour of her research lab, it was well past lunch and nearing dinner time. If they were going to bring another two of her sexual fantasies to life, they’d have to start making their way home to pick up Owen’s Jeep and then head to the Gulf Coast. She was going to have to ask him to take the jewelry out of his piercing for their next encounter, which was a bummer, but she needed the break. Not from him, just from his jewelry.
“Do you want to go out to dinner or have a picnic in the back of the Jeep?” she asked as she relocked the office’s front door and hoped no one ever had a reason to review today’s incriminating security tapes.
“Which is more likely to make you smile?” he asked.
“Whichever involves more of you.” She took his hand as they walked to her eye-catching car in the otherwise deserted parking lot. She knew she shouldn’t encourage this lovey-dovey crap, but her heart and her brain were at total odds. And as scary as it was, her heart was currently in control. She was pretty sure her oversexed body was unfairly swaying said heart in the man’s direction.
“I will be present either way,” he said.
But they’d have to keep their hands to themselves if they dined in public. Still, maybe that was for the best. The more time she spent with her hands on Owen’s body, the less her brain functioned in a logical and coherent fashion.
“Picnic on the beach,” popped out of her mouth before she could get her thoughts in any semblance of order.
“My mind-control techniques are working,” he said, releasing an evil-sounding laugh.
So he’d rather picnic alone with her on the beach? Her belly began to quiver with butterflies at the thought of being with him from sunrise over the Bay to sunset over the Gulf. They’d have spent the entire day together, and she was in no way looking forward to him returning to his band’s tour the next day. She normally liked her interactions with other people to come in small doses; she’d always been a bit of a loner. But where Owen was involved, she feared she’d never get enough.
“You’re staying the night, aren’t you?” she asked, her hand involuntarily tightening on his.
“I hope to. Will you come see me later this week after a show? Before a show? During a show? I’m not sure I can wait until our next tour break to see you again.”
“Of course,” she gushed, wishing the foot she had in her mouth was bigger so stupid happy shit would stop falling from her lips. But she did want to see him as soon as possible. And that was a bad sign. Very bad. Was she falling for him? Truly? That fast? It wasn’t possible, was it? Even in her impressionable and naive youth, her handsome, intelligent, and worldly English professor hadn’t won her heart this quickly. Perhaps she should have encouraged Owen to leave rather than stay the night. A little space would let her clear her head before she did something as ridiculous as fall in love with her rebound guy. Her younger man—sexually explorative, ego boosting, and awesome—was not long-term-commitment material. At least that was what she’d thought when she’d hooked up with him. Now she was starting to think beyond their weekend together. Even beyond that silly sexual fantasy list she’d made. She was thinking of him as her boyfriend. Crap.
“You’re starting to give off men-suck vibes,” he said, drawing her up against the side of the car.
“Are you sure?” She hooked an arm around his neck and kissed him. Her heart thundered in her chest. She knew her throbbing heart had little to do with the burning sexual chemistry between them and everything to do with the junior-high-level crush she had going on for the guy. Her scientific mind could explain her giddiness away by knowing the release of endorphins in her brain was tricking her into thinking she’d found her soulmate, but, lord, how she wanted these overwhelming feelings to be more than a chemical maelstrom brewing in her system.
“Maybe I was mistaken,” he said, the movement of his mouth tickling her lips.
“If I’m giving off vibes, they’re not directed at you. You don’t suck,” she assured him.
“I can if you’d like.”
She felt his grin against her lips.
“I’m feeling things for you I’m not ready to feel yet.” And his close proximity must be affecting her judgement, because she wasn’t ready to admit even that much to him.
The grin against her lips widened.
“Maybe we need to spend some time apart,” she said, hating the words as soon as they escaped her, even as she knew that time apart was the sensible reaction to moving way too fast. And they were definitely moving way too fast. Even her Camaro—with its accelerator mashed to the floor—wouldn’t be able to keep pace with the progression of their relationship.
/> “Okay,” he said. “Starting tomorrow I promise to give you some space. At least until you come see me on Tuesday.”
“Wow, twenty-four hours without you? I’m not sure I can handle that.”
“You can always come to the show in New Orleans. Can you survive twelve hours apart? If not, you can follow me back to Austin and stow away on the plane. I’ll hide you in my pants. No one will think anything is up.”
