“Yes, yes, yes!” she cries out, planting both hands on the bed, trying to keep her balance. I slide my hand under her, going for her clit, and her pussy clamps down so hard on my shaft that I see stars.
I lean down, sinking my teeth into the meaty part of her shoulder, sucking her skin into my mouth and leaving a mark. Rita’s meeting each thrust with one of her own, throwing her hips back, grinding her sopping wet pussy down on my hand.
“You better come now,” I say. “You don’t come before me, you don’t come at all.”
“No—”
“Yes,” I hiss, pistoning my hips inside her as my balls draw up tight. “You wanted to get off, so get fucking off,Rita.” An electricity surges down my spine, my dick throbbing in time with my pulse. I pinch her clithard, rolling it between my fingers, and she screams, her entire body going taut just as I fill the condom with rope after rope of cum.
Sweat is dotting my brow, and I know I’ll need to change my shirt when I get back to the office. But my shoulders have loosened with the euphoria of the orgasm, my mind clearer than it’s been all morning.
“Two must be the magic number,” I mutter, pulling my softening dick out of her just as Rita collapses onto her stomach. Her pussy is red and swollen, and I thrust my fingers inside her, grinning when she flinches and tries to wriggle away from me.
“Too much,” she mutters.
“Don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, even as I pull the fingers out and reach up, stuffing them into her mouth. “You fucking love it.”
She glares at me, but doesn’t fight, sucking the taste of herself—and latex—off my fingers, swirling her tongue around the digits until it’s all gone. She rolls over as I tuck my dick away, doing up my belt.
“I don’t want to wait months before I see you again,” she says quietly, some of the petulance leaving her voice. That’s what I like about Rita; she knows when to push, and she knows when to back the fuck off.
I give her a considering look. “I’ll find time.” I lean down, cupping her cheek, dragging my thumb over her bottom lip. “Wait for my text.”
Without another look, I turn and head out, firmly shutting the door behind me. The hotel is three blocks from the office, so I grab a taxi instead of walking, already knowing I’m pushing my luck with how late I am. As I settle into theback seat, I pull out my phone, frowning at the message from my assistant, Gail.
Gail
Your wife called to remind you about dinner with your parents this evening. Would you like me to confirm?
The tension I just released inside Rita squirrels its way back up my spine, tempting me to tell the driver to turn around and take me back to the hotel. I tap out a message, telling her that I’ll call my wife myself, and turn my attention out the window, mind shifting to the meeting I’m about to walk into, and how I can use it to make sure the promotion to managing director is mine.
Chapter 1
Grafton
Christmas carols pour from the speakers mounted in each corner of the room, and my fingers tighten around the glass in my hand.
I’ve got no problem with the holiday season, but I’m in no mood for socializing—a feeling that’s only compounded when I catch sight of a familiar face moving through the crowd, his determined gaze pinned on me.
I throw back the rest of my drink, welcoming the burn of the whiskey as it slides down my throat, and deposit the glass on a passing server’s tray with a small smile of thanks.
“Grafton,” Thatcher greets as he comes to a stop at my side. “You’re a hard one to catch.”
I eye my brother with feigned interest. “You should have made an appointment with Judith.”
His watery blue eyes brighten with irritation as he tells me through gritted teeth, “I tried. She kept hanging up on me.”
“Huh.” I rub a hand over my jaw. “That doesn’t sound like Judith. Must be a problem with the phone lines.”
“Grafton—”
“How did you know about tonight?” I interrupt. “I’m sure you’re already aware, but this is a company Christmas party.” I smile, but it’s not nice. “Last I checked, you didn’t work for me, Thatch.”
His nose wrinkles. “Why would I?” he asks huffily. “I earn enough money through the interest on my trust fund.” His irritation seems to fade away, leaving only something sly that he hides behind a slow blink. “But that is something I want to talk to you about.”
My mouth curls. “You want a job? That would be an interesting change of pace for you.”
“Not me.” He huffs. “Angelica.”
