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And I’ve done something to him, too. He’s lost the reserved, cold expression, and his face is all heat.
Both of his hands go around my neck. Mr. Leblanc kisses me thoroughly, like he can taste pleasure in my mouth.
Then he changes his grip. Hands go to my shoulders.
And he gently, firmly pushes me to the floor between his legs. I’m drawn to him like a magnet. The way his hands work over his belt and his zipper is fascinating.
His cock is freed, and—
Idid that. He wants me that much. It’s perfect and thick and hard.Sohard.
“Does it hurt?” I whisper. “For it to be like that?”
“It will hurt less in a minute. You know what to do.”
If I wasn’t still half-dreaming, still coming down, I might have hesitated to wrap my hand around him. One deep breath, and I lean down and tease the head with my tongue.
Mr. Leblanc groans. “More, Bristol. Now.”
12
WILL
This isthe best blow job of my life.
All the other ones fade directly out of my memory. I’ve dated lots of women. Taken lots of them to bed. There’s freedom in a one-night stand, but no one has ever been as enthusiastic and sweet as Bristol.
She’s not particularly experienced, but she isearnest.It’s killing me. My thief of a temp is half under my desk, her skirt still pushed up her thighs, and she cannot get enough of this.
Stay,I want to say.
Stay here. Stay at your desk. Keep bringing me coffee every morning. Put it just the right way on my coaster. Let me fuck you on every break. Let me take you home at night.
Where I’ll make you cry and beg and come so hard you pass out.
I don’t say anything.
Bristol gives my shaft a long lick, and a shiver goes up my spine to the top of my head.
She couldn’t be doing a better job if I was paying her. I put my knuckles over my mouth. Bristol Anderson is destroying the person I’ve been. I only half-care if anyone on staff hears me.
Bristol responds to a stifled grunt by trying even harder. Giving my cockmoreattention with her lips and tongue.
I’ve dreamed about this.
More than once.
The dream doesn’t come close to reality. The dream didn’t include the soft silk of her hair underneath my fingertips. It didn’t include the way her cheeks are still pink from coming on my fingers like a perfect corporate whore.
My thighs flex. My cock twitches against her tongue. I concentrate on not coming. I don’t want this to be over.
The phone rings.
Not my cell. The big phone on the corner of my desk. The landline.
Bristol looks up at me with her huge green eyes. She’s gone completely still except for the heat of her breath over the head of my cock.
I push her head back down and pick up the phone.
