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Jordan’s sleeping over at his friend’s place since it’s Friday night, leaving us a chance to work late on our old stomping grounds. Hugo was the last person in the office, and he left over an hour ago.
That means we’re alone. A rarity and a reminder.
Months ago, I made her a promise, and my cock pulses so hard I almost pass out when it hits my brain.
I’m a man of my word, and an electric tingle flares through me.
Tonight’s the night.
After what feels like an age, Brina looks up from her laptop with a smile like the sun.
“Okay, I just submitted the report. Unless there’s something else you’re working on, I think we’re finished.”
I shake my head.
“We’re not done. Close your damn computer and come here.”
She snaps her laptop shut and slides off the chair obediently, then stands next to my desk. There’s a sly smile on her face, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m up to, but she’s game for mischief.
I stand, straightening to my full length, undoing my tie as I walk around to her side, closing in on her.
My movement backs her up. Her plump ass to die for brushes the edge of my desk.
She’s cornered now, and her wide eyes tell me she has no idea how hard I’m about to fuck her through the floor.
That’s okay, sweetheart.
You’ll find out soon enough.
“Mag?” she whispers.
Stalking over, I seal a finger against her lips, harder than diamond with the heat of her breath on my skin.
I stretch an arm behind her, leading her to my side of the desk. Then I grab my legal pad, lay it on top of my keyboard, and close the laptop over it.
I lean forward, giving her even less space.
She makes no effort to fall back, but she doesn’t lean into me either. I move the laptop from the desk, pull open a drawer, and shove it inside.
With one hand on each hip, I place Brina’s delectable ass on my desk, desire coursing through me like a wolf on the prowl.
She’s figured it out.
I can see it in her eyes.
They’ve gone russet-brown with tension, with pleasant shock, with need.
“Wh—what are you doing?” she asks.
“It isn’t obvious?”
I lean down, my lips hovering just over hers, but I don’t dare brush them. If I do, she’ll be on her knees a second later, my cock buried deep in her mouth.
I need to know she’s aching, throbbing from head to toe like I am.
When her mouth moves on mine with a hunger, I’m convinced.
Her arms close behind my neck. Her kiss tastes urgent and sweet.
“Wrong question,” I snarl, pulling away. “You mean what are we doing?”
“Keeping promises? I think I remember a very specific one you made that first weekend, around New Year’s...” She blinks, her eyes like chocolate syrup I want to drown in.
Damn her, she can’t say it—we’re fucking in the office—and it makes me want her more.
“Number one rule of sales,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers. “Don’t tell when you can show.”
Then I claim her mouth, sinking my teeth into her plush bottom lip. My palms drop to the smooth exotic sandalwood of my desk with the edges of my hands digging into her firm ass, claiming what’s mine in my kingdom.
The kiss goes on longer than I intend and so damn deep I taste her soul.
When I’ve had my fill of her mouth—when I’m finally able to break away like a human being again—I kiss down her jawline, her neck, raking my short beard against her skin.
She fucking mewls for me, this shuddering high-pitched gasp, soft and needy and intense as ever.
I kiss back up her throat to her lips, taking her mouth again, this time with my tongue on fire. My hands roam the sides of her body, straight to the hem of that purple sweater dress.
Fuck me.
It’s the same one she wore that hellish day we met. I clutch the purple hem in both hands and start yanking it up, with half a mind to rip it right off her.
She pulls away from me, moaning, but throws a hand up.
“Mag, wait! Stop.”
Damn. Did I read that wrong?
I let go of the dress and straighten up.
As soon as my breath isn’t ragged, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She raises an eyebrow, looking up at the corner. “The security cams.”
I snort. “My dear little suburbanite.” I plant my hands on the desk and kiss her forehead. “I thought I’d upset you when I was mauling your dress.”
“No, but—I don’t want anyone to see us,” she says. “Shouldn’t you be careful?”
Smiling, I say nothing, just comb my fingers through her dark, lush hair.
“Why did you call me a suburbanite?” she asks, frowning.
“Because.” I chuckle. “City girls know no one watches the security camera, and no one cares. Half of them are AI now, a human only looks when the system detects an unfamiliar face up to no good.” My lips brush her hair. “But since I don’t want anyone seeing you either, I turned the cameras in this room off an hour ago. The app lets me control that, too. You’re for my eyes only.”
