Fuck, I never wanted to stop kissing her.
Sliding two fingers inside her warmth, I slowly pumped them, kissing her harder. My tongue tangled with hers as her gasps and moans filled the air. Her fingers trailed over my neck, clawing at my skin, and still, I didn’t stop.
“S-Sam,” she gasped as her pussy clenched hard around my fingers.
Cum coated my fingers as she pressed her lips to mine, whimpering as I thrust harder inside her, never stopping, never giving her a second’s reprieve.
Not until she cried out, squeezing my neck so damn tight as her body spasmed uncontrollably in my arms.
Slowly, I slid my fingers from her warmth, never letting my lips leave hers for even a second.
I was addicted.
9
CASSIDY
My shirt was tornand there was absolutely nothing I could do about the disheveled appearance of my hair, other than throw it up in a ponytail and hope others thought I was just having a bad day.
“Do you have extra clothes here?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. Though none were as cute as what I had on today.
“I’ll…pay for a new shirt.”
Chuckling, I headed to the closet and pulled out a pair of dress pants and a blouse. They wouldn’t match my shoes, but I’d make do. At least I wouldn’t be walking around in cum-stained clothes or a ripped shirt. After cleaning up as best I could, I quickly dressed in the bathroom and fixed my makeup. I strode out, determined to get back to work and stop thinking about Sam.
But that was hard to do when he was still here.
Still standing in my office, looking just as handsome as he had ten minutes ago.
“You’re still here.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, shoving his hands in his pockets like he was uncomfortable as well. “The bookcase.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “You were serious about that?”
“About making sure you don’t kill yourself? Absolutely.”
“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t kill myself putting up a bookcase when I did it to the rest of the shop with nothing more than a few minor scratches.”
“Minor or not, I’m here, so I might as well help you.”
I couldn’t really complain. It wasn’t often someone offered to help, and that would give me the opportunity to ogle the man for a little longer, all while pretending I was carefully inspecting his work.
“Okay, but I must warn you, I’m very picky.”
“About what?”
Grinning, I strode past him. “You’ll see.”
Over the next hour, I drove the man crazy, having him measure everything three times, take pictures so I could see for certain things were level and perfect through the eyes of marketing, and I even had him measure that bookshelf against the others in the shop.
Why?
Because it gave me multiple views of his backside, and that was well worth the unnecessary work.
“Are you certain this is where you want it?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
