Page 17 of His Little Stowaway

He’s literally beaming when I tell him.

For a split second, I think he’s laughing at me. Like all this really has been some kind of setup, but despite whatever I think about the man or thought he was up to, I’m proven wrong.

Pearce is deadly serious when he tells me it’s just me and him now.

Something I never thought I’d hear from anyone’s lips, let alone a real man like Pearce. Not ever in my whole life.

That he only wants me and wants me to only ever want him. To have each other.

“Us,” he muses aloud as I let him know I’m not just agreeing with him, but that I fully understand.

I’m his. He’s mine. Got it.

I’m not letting go of this one. Not in a million years.

I feel a welcoming fresh warmth of heat to my already wet-again pussy.

His hand is like magic, anyplace he touches me lights up, sending a direct signal to all my most potent pleasure centers.

Propping myself up on his desk, the huge office, the building, and even the world outside all threaten to come back into immediate focus.

Noting my mood shift, Pearce lifts me up and sets me on his lap. His huge erection pressing a giddying heat into my side, pushing into my chest and making me grip it by nothing but instinct.

There’s a ring from one of the phones on his desk, then another.

Ignoring it all, he focuses on watching my face and then my hands as I start to pump his thick cock, eventually letting his head fall back a little as he lets out a low moan of pleasure.

The phone rings. Stops and then starts again, but I’m lost in the man already. Not just his cock, but his whole body.

Every slight movement from him sees a new muscle contract or expand, and with the perfect tan and what I swear must be like zero body fat, it’s hard not to run my hands all over him. Every inch of him.

But the world I thought we’d escaped just now comes knocking, literally.

Joining the chorus of ringing phones, there’s a tapping knock before it accelerates into a pounding thud on Pearce’s office door.

The muted sound of someone calling out, ruining the moment, but not Pearce’s arousal or enthusiasm.

“They aren’t gonna go away, are they?” I ask, not even hiding my disappointment.

Pearce takes my hand, collects the thick river of clear precome from his smooth head before he presses it to my lips, then uses what’s left to coat the already aching space between my legs.

I purr like a kitten, but he makes a face of resignation, lifting himself up and setting me on the edge of the desk.

“You’re right. They won’t go away, even if I tell them to,” he says, frowning but leaning in to kiss me.

“There are a million towels in the walls in the bathroom,” he whispers and my face twists into a question.

“Pull on a mirror. You’ll see,” he tells me, smiling to himself as he pulls his pants back up, keeping his eyes on me the whole time until he almost passes for CEO, leaving me looking like a stripper who’s taken too much work home for the weekend.

“I’ll grab that shower,” I announce, but have to ask, “What about my clothes?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, as if it’s a problem he wishes he really had.

The only problem he had.

Keeping clothes on or off me?

It’s a question I ask myself as I step back into the bathroom. I’ve closed and locked the door this time, but only because I know Pearce is gonna have company.

There’s the huge tub…but something tells me no though.

Not just yet.

A shower is fine, more than fine after sleeping in that limo and just having my insides rearranged from the outside by Mr. Amazing out there.

I’ll trust in his word too. That he can take care of my clothing situation, as well as get rid of whoever it is come to bother him.

Bother us.

Us. I love how that sounds.

But I somehow feel like I’m missing something once I’m alone.

Even though the water’s the perfect temperature and the pressure hits just right, I can’t help feeling that something’s already lacking in my life.

The memory of his mouth on me as I start to wash, running my hands over everything he already has, I know what’s missing.

It’s him.

Pearce.

I know he’s just in the next room, but the sensation of his hands on me, his tongue inside me?

That’s not something a girl gets and then just walks away from without having plenty to stop and think about.

Being away from him, naked and in such a huge bathroom does feel weird. But if I close my eyes it’s like I’m right where we both were just a few minutes ago.

My trembling knees remind me of the fact before I have the other kind of knee-jerk reaction.

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