Page 38 of Feel It in the Air

“Exceptionally unprofessional.”

“Agreed.”

“And absolutely violate company policy."

“Mm-hmm.”

“And probably be considered by many, myself notwithstanding given a different situation, to be taking advantage of you…”

I nod. Not really sure which one of us he’s trying to convince here—him or me.

“Probably.”

“Right,” he clips, his voice curt.

“Gus?”

“Yeah?”

He looks over at me, our eyes locking. And I can see it in there. Those deep, all-telling irises show me everything I need to know.

“You should do it anyway.”

A deep, guttural growled “fuck it” is the last thing I hear. Before I can think—hell, before I can blink—Gus’s mouth is on mine, our lips pressed together in a kiss that is borderline feral. The combination of soft and strong has me melting into him, my fingers wrapping around his bicep trying to hold on.

Because I want more.

So, so much more.

Everything around us stops, time failing to exist as we continue to explore each other, a mess of limbs and movements. His lips are soft and strong against mine, the perfect combination of the slight taste of beer still lingering on his tongue, mixing with what I remember from the other night. That which was uniquely Gus.

His hands move to my ass, squeezing ever so lightly, and I moan, wanting more. He takes the hint, digging his fingers in as much as he can through the fabric of my jeans, lifting me up and depositing me on my desk. I reach for his shirt, trying to unbutton it as we make out, but my fingers are clumsy, my attention too tied up with his mouth.

“Want something there, darlin’?” he asks, kissing his way along my jaw.

“Just wondering what’s underneath this.”

“Funny, I was wondering the same thing…”

He pulls back, an impish grin locked and loaded. Next thing I know, my V-neck is up and over my head, my plain beige bra on display. I don’t have time to think about how I should have worn something nicer though, because Gus has it off in record time and is running his thumbs over my sensitive nipples.

“Ohhhhh…” I moan, once again trying to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Gus chuckles, kissing at the sweet spot on my neck, not letting up on my tits. “Like that?”

“Not fair…”

“Who said anything about playing fair?”

“Oh, is that how this is going to work?” I counter, starting to feel a little feisty.

Pulling back, Gus puts a hand down on the desk on either side of me, caging me in. Lowering himself just enough so that he’s eye level, he meets my gaze, his normally soulful eyes dark with lust.

“Margeaux, if I’m taking advantage of you, then nothing about this is going to be fair. That means that I’m in charge, and what I say goes. Do you understand me?”

A chill races up my spine and all I can do is nod. I have never been so turned on in my entire fucking life.

“Good girl.”