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Our movements were less frantic than they had been the previous evening, the rolls of her hips a slower tempo, the brush of my hands over her hips, her waist, her breasts—​more languid. The eye contact was more intense. The need seeping into every nerve ending coiling tighter and tighter, until I sensed the first tiny ripple of her climax. I slid a hand between us to circle just above where her body connected with mine, languid strokes to match her movements, and felt her body clamp down hard on me with her orgasm.

She rode me right through it, moaning my name, and it was all I could do to hold back until she was fully sated, collapsing her body down onto mine.

I took hold of her hips to ease her up slightly, taking over the slow thrusts as she buried her face in my neck, kissing and biting her sensitive skin until the shivers traveling down my spine fused with the heat coming up.

“Eyes here,” I said roughly, knowing that eye contact was the last thing my heart needed right now, but unable to hold back the demand.

She lifted her head to meet my gaze, and the final thread of my self-​control was severed in one savage sweep. My climax ripped through me, her name escaping my mouth on a groan as her lips covered mine to swallow the last syllable with a kiss.

We lay still entwined for a little while, her face buried in my neck and one of my hands in her hair, the other stroking her back as I felt her heart beat from her chest into mine.

I was so fucked.

26

Kerr

“COME ON, THEN,” Stacey said, eyebrows raised. “What’s the story?”

I winced. So far this week I had managed to avoid any discussions with her outside of the work-​related. She’d tried to wheedle it into conversation, but I’d valiantly foiled all her efforts.

She rolled her eyes and I got the distinct impression that Ranjeeta was rubbing off on her. “Come on, bruh. Is what Ranjeeta told me a load of bull?” Her eyes lit up. “Or are you actually involved in some kind of criminal activity?”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. How had I gone from “Dr. Murdoch” to “bruh” in such a short space of time?

“No. I’m neither witness to nor involved in any criminal activity, Stacey. Except the practically criminal behavior of my receptionist,” I grumbled.

She sighed. “You could have just been honest with me, you know. It’s not that deep.”

She did have a point. Being honest with people about how I felt was not something that came easily to me, but it did, in certain circumstances, prevent a shitload of awkwardness. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you that our relationship was strictly professional, and I got Ranjeeta to do my dirty work for me. Problem is that woman is a law unto herself,” I muttered.

Stacey just shrugged, a bored look on her face. “No big deal. I decided you’re too old for me anyway. Even if you weren’t my boss.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Thanks. I think.”

She scoffed a laugh. “I’ve got a date for our sixth-​form reunion, anyway. One of the guys that’s home from uni.”

“Excellent,” I said, relieved at the idea that she was concentrating on someone her own age and also that the attention was being drawn away from me. “Is it Rob?” I remembered that Greg’s son was home from uni, and Greg had mentioned this party his old sixth-​form class were having.

“No, It’s Ethan. Ethan Armstrong. His family used to live on your street before he went to uni, and then they moved away.”

I recalled the likable curly-​haired kid who had no filter. “Oh yeah, Ethan. He was a good guy.”

Stacey smiled. “I bumped into him at the switch-on and he asked me out.”

What was happening? Had I now become “one of the girls,” and was I to be subject to my staff’s gossip about their love lives? I suppose that was what happened when you worked in an all-​female environment. I shrugged inwardly, resigned to my fate. “Cool. I hope you guys enjoy yourselves.”

With a satisfied smile, she left the room to go for her break, leaving me to my notes. I’d hardly begun when I heard the office door open and someone clear their throat loudly and pointedly. I lifted my head, somewhat wearily, toward the source of the sound.

“Why are you being so weird?” Ranjeeta demanded, hand on hip.

I looked up from my computer screen, blinking in confusion. “What?”

She stalked from the door of my office toward me like a panther, eyes roving my face. “Something is up with you, and I can’t work out what it is. I hate it when I can’t work out what’s eating someone.” She dragged over a chair and sat with her arms folded, facing me on the stool I used when writing up my notes. “Spill it.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Has anyone ever told you that you are utterly terrifying?”

“Yes. On many occasions.” A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth.