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My mouth falls open, wantonly ready to accept him. His fingers lace into my hair to hold me still as he pushes his glistening cock into my waiting mouth. I taste the sharp flavor of arousal clinging to his shaft, mixing with the salty taste of his precum. My tongue rubs frantically against the thick vein under his length, toying with his piercings and eager to tip him over the edge into pure bliss.
“Look at me,” Chase groans, his voice pitching higher.
My eyes immediately obey, staring up at him, trying to express my feelings to him with a simple, submissive look of affection.
Sensing he’s close, I swallow as much of him as I can, hollowing my cheeks and sucking—hard.
Chase’s head falls back, his gurgled moan ricocheting around the acoustic room as he shoots his load down my throat.
“Swallow,” he chokes on a gulp of air, holding my head down on his dick. “Every damn drop.”
And I do. I drink him down, my tongue wrapping around his cock to milk him dry.
A fine tremor rolls through his body as my movements draw out his pleasure.
When the last drop of his release is swallowed, Chase pulls free from my mouth with a wet smack. I look up at him, licking my lips to capture the last taste of him.
Tracking my lips, Chase lifts me under my arms to my unsteady feet. He pushes me until my butt rests against the conference table again and attacks my mouth with his own. His kiss slows from frantic to leisurely within a few heated seconds, his tongue caressing mine in a sensual dance.
“You taste like mine,” I pant between kisses, repeating his earlier words.
Chase smiles tenderly as he presses his forehead to mine. “I love you, Simone.”
My heart gallops. He said the words aloud, conscious and alert.
He loves me. Me! Sass and all.
Before I can say them back, he places a soft kiss on my bruised lips. “Don’t say it back because I said it first. You say it when the moment is right for you, and not because you feel obligated to repeat it.”
I want to tell him it’s not an obligation, that I feel the same for him, but our moment ends when I hear the distinct sound of a door squeaking open. “Oh, my God. Were we not alone?”
Chase yanks his pants up, fastening his belt buckle. “We were alone, but I’ll go check again. Get sorted, and I’ll handle the problem if there is one.”
When Chase marches out of the room, heading to where he heard the sound, I quickly tug down my pencil shirt. I fumble with the cups of my bra, pushing the girls back into their holding cells, before buttoning my blazer shut across my chest to hide my now lack of blouse.
My heart is in my throat when Chase returns. “Anything?”
He shakes his head. “Probably the building making noises.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my face flushing with the possibility of being caught. How humiliating it would be to face whoever saw us tomorrow or have our team fired from the investigation for lack of decency.
“Are you sure no one’s creeping anywhere?”
Chase chuckles, leaning in to kiss my burning cheeks. “Doubtful. I was thorough when I did my initial sweep, and again now. We’re alone, Numbers.”
A long, winded sigh leaves my lungs.
Chase pops my relaxed bubble when he says, “But if there was someone, we gave them one hell of a show.”
I swat his chest. “Stop teasing.”
His deep laugh fills the space. He slings an arm around my shoulder, escorting us from the room. “You’re cute when you’re paranoid. Come on. Let’s head back to the hotel, where I can make you scream all you want without worrying.”
CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
CYNTHIA
Shit. Shit. Shit.
