I glance over at him. He’s leaning against the door, arms loose at his sides, watching me with a quiet intensity. “One of the other moms on Mase’s baseball team recommended a babysitter. She’s a teenager, but I’ve got a good feeling about her.”
Grafton’s brows pinch together for the briefest beat before smoothing out again. “Does she have experience?”
I go still, caught by the seriousness in his eyes. He looks one second away from barreling out the door to check onthe kids himself. The genuine concern—his instinctive, overpowering love for my babies—washes over me and steals the air from my lungs. Everything in me softens and blooms, a sense of rightness—one that’s been growing stronger these last months—settles in my gut, warming my blood.
I wet my lips, trying to keep my breathing even as my heart knocks against my ribs.
“They’re good,” I tell him gently. “They met Chelsea the other day, and Ginny’s already in love.”
He still isn’t convinced. “Does she know first aid?”
“Grafton,” I say in exasperation. “They’ll be fine.”
I perch on the edge of his desk, giving him an arch look. I haven’t had much practice with seduction, so I’m winging this like the best of them. His mouth softens, his eyes heat, and I know I’ve got him on the hook.
He closes the distance between us in three large strides, palming my thighs and pushing them open. My dress goes tight around my legs, but Grafton’s pushing it up until he can fit between my thighs, his thumbs tracing teasing circles over my skin.
Suddenly, his eyes flare, dropping down to my lap. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when he roughly grips the hem of my dress and shoves it higher, his movements jerky. His gaze catches on the black silk ribbons of my stockings, following where they disappear out of sight.
“Lynley.” It sounds like he’s been gargling rocks, and I shudder, feeling moisture coating the gusset of my panties.
I smile coyly, reaching out to toy with the buckle of his belt. Tugging it playfully, my knuckles brush against the hard bulge pressing against his zipper, a surge of feminine power flying through me at the effect I have on him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t meet my deadline, sir,” I tell him,pushing my bottom lip out in a pout. “There must be something I can do to make up for it…” I bat my lashes, feeling like the heat in his eyes might actually set me on fire.
Grafton’s lips purse together as he searches my face, figuring out my intentions. He gives me the sexiest smirk, his voice a disappointed drawl as he tells me, “I’m not sure, Lynne. There are only so many chances I can give you.”
I press my fingers against his erection a little harder before twisting my hand around, palming his cock and stroking him through his pants. Grafton’s eyes blaze into me, unblinking, as a breath hisses out between his teeth. “Please, Mr. Reynolds… Sir… I’ll do anything to keep this job.”
He lifts a hand from my leg, rubbing his fingers over his jaw like he’s deliberating, and a bolt of anxiety shoots me like my future is actually in his hands. “There might be something you can do, Lynne,” he says slowly. “But it’s going to require you to stay late and work very…very hard.”
I nod eagerly, squeezing my fingers around him. “I can do that.”
“We’ll see, hmm.” Grafton reaches around me, finding the flimsy zipper of my dress and yanking it down. He makes quick work of my sleeves, dragging them down and off, and then I’m sitting here in my lacy bra, the dress pooled around my hips.
“It’s a good start,” he says, sliding his fingers into the cup of my bra, tugging it down. “But I’ll need to see more.”
He leans down to pull one nipple into his mouth. I gasp as he sucks it to a rigid peak, and I throw my head back, arching into his mouth. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, but then he’s pulling away, yanking the other cup down and giving that nipple the same treatment, each pull of his mouth tugging low in my pelvis.
When he pulls back, the pale flesh of my breast is marked red from his facial hair, and he gives a devilish smile. “I like seeing my marks on you,” he murmurs. “Even if no one else ever sees them, I’ll always know they’re there, and that you’re mine.”
Every single part of me loves that, but I quickly draw us back into the game, not ready for it to be done. This isn’t just about being with Grafton. It’s about taking back ownership of my body and control of my life. And there’s something poetic about doing it in this office—a floor above my ex-husband’s old one.
“Sir, what if someone catches us?” A soft whine creeps into my voice as I look at the door over his shoulder. “What if someone walks in? I can’t lose this job, and if someone knows I was with you…like this…” I dart a shy look down at my exposed body, nipples red and wet from his mouth.
“If you want to keep your position, you’ll do as you’re told,” Grafton tells me, grabbing my hands and bringing them to his belt.
“I’m sorry, sir.” My fingers are shaking as I fumble with it, yanking it open and working on the button on his pants. I get it undone when he suddenly straightens, his expression coldly arrogant.
“I wouldn’t worry about anyone else right now, Lynne. All you need to worry about is pleasing me.” He steps away from me before I can work down his zipper, and his eyes flick commandingly to the floor. I follow the silent order, pushing off his desk, my dress slithering to the floor as I stand in front of him.
“Very nice.” One brow flicks up, but his stare is molten as he takes every inch of me, bra still tucked under my breasts, pushing them up. The matching thong and garter belt aren’t something I’d normally wear, but I turn aroundand plant my hands on the desk, showing off the bare globes of my ass. Grafton audibly swallows, and then his hand slides under the string of the thong, teasingly tugging at it.
I glance over my shoulder, finding his attention fixed on my ass, his mouth parted, and his cheeks flushed. “I’ll do anything to please you,” I whisper, swaying my hips from side to side. In another lifetime, I might have been embarrassed by this wanton display, but all I feel is power.
Christopher never gave me this, never looked at me the way Grafton does. He was—is—an inherently selfish man. I never knew any different until Grafton showed me what love is actually supposed to look like.
And this is love.
