Page 38 of Scooped


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JACK:It’s a full body problem, Miss Seyfried. But yes, the pants-area is most definitely involved. How is it you manage to look so goddamned sexy in a beige men’s suit?

ELLIE:Maybe you have secret longings you haven’t admitted to yourself until now?

JACK:Negative. My longings are all non-secretive and most involve ripping that mustache off your face, pulling those hideous pants down your legs, and devouring your pussy on my desk. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the sexy way you taste, El…

Face going hot,I bite my lip, grateful there’s almost no one left to see me blush. Just a couple of stragglers from accounting headed for the door. Even Blair’s office is empty—I checked on my way to the bathroom a few minutes ago.

Which means, I’m cleared to head for the executive wing.

AndGod, I can’t wait.

Somehow I’ve managed to get work done today, but it hasn’t been easy. Not with half my brain replaying every touch, every kiss, every second of my red-hot evening with my sexy boss. It doesn’t help that Jack’s wearing a steel gray suit so expertly tailored it hugs every inch of him, from his broad shoulders, to his spectacular backside, to those powerful thighs that were shifting against mine for hours last night.

I now know what it feels like for Jack to urge my legs wider with a flex of one toned quad, and the knowledge has weighed tingly upon me all day. I haven’t been able to go more than a minute or two without a zing of sense-memory shivering across my skin. I’ve been in such a bad way that the first time Jack breezed by my cubicle around noon, I’m pretty sure I drooled.

Luckily, I’d already fetched my noodles from the break room, so there was a reasonable drool-trigger sitting right in front of me.

Now, however, there’s no excuse for the way my cheeks heat and my heart races. No excuse for the way I practically dance through empty hallways to Jack’s door, my heart in my throat and my breath already coming faster. Just the knowledge that Jack’s hands will soon be on my skin is enough to make me dizzy.

And then he opens the door at my light knock, his gaze every bit as hungry as it was when he laid me out on his bed last night and showed me all the sexy, seductive things I’ve been missing, and the last of my cool evaporates in a puff of lust-colored smoke.

“You summoned me, sir?” I ask.

“Get in here, Eric,” Jacks says in a voice that goes straight to my already trembling thighs. “We have something serious to discuss.”

“Oh, no. That sounds…serious,” I say as I step over the threshold.

“It sure fucking is.” A second later, Jack has slammed the door closed and pressed me back against the thick wood, his fingers digging into my waist as his mouth meets mine in a bruising kiss. And even with my Eric mustache still in place, the moment Jack’s lips meet mine, I catch fire.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I gasp as I lock my arms around Jack’s neck and hold on tight, devouring him.

I am incapable of restraint with this man. I couldn’t hide the way he makes me feel if I tried, so I don’t bother. I arch closer, rubbing myself shamelessly against him, moaning in appreciation of the steely length swelling behind his fly as he draws us both across the room toward his desk.

“Me, too. How can you get me this hot with that stupid mustache on?” He guides my suit coat over my shoulders, stripping it roughly down my arms before reaching for his own.

“Like I said, maybe you have unexplored desires.” My breath rushes out as Jack grips my ass, pulling me tight to where he’s so deliciously thick. My arousal spikes hard and fast, making my words husky as I add, “There’s no shame in swinging both ways.”

“Do you swing both ways, beautiful Ellie?” he asks, his eyes glittering as he reaches for my tie.

I shake my head, mesmerized by the heat in his gaze as he expertly unshackles me from my Windsor knot. “No, I don’t, beautiful Jack. I enjoy cock. Especially yours.”

“Enjoy,” he echoes with a frown, tossing my tie to the floor. “That’s a flabby word, Seyfried. I expected something stronger from a grammar enthusiast of your caliber.” He slips the top button on my shirt through its hole, making my nipples pull tight beneath the elastic bandages binding them to my chest.

“Relish?” My tongue sweeps out to dampen my lips as he continues to slowly, seductively work open my shirt.

He hums thoughtfully. “Relish is good.Cravewould be better.”

“How about worship?” I’m teasing as I say it, but the word isn’t outside the realm of possibility. A couple more nights like the last one, and I’ll be on my knees, singing cock-praising hymns and making offerings to the God of Orgasms.

“Worship is excellent. I certainly worship all of…” He trails off as he strips my shirt down my arms, uncovering the bandages binding my chest. Wincing, he runs a finger beneath the tightly stretched fabric “Doesn’t this hurt?”

“No. At least, it didn’t.” I tug at the knot of his tie as I continue in a softer voice, “Until I needed you to touch me. So badly.”

“Me, too, El. So bad,” he murmurs, popping open the safety pin holding my bandages closed. “I’ve been dreaming about having you in my mouth all day. Of the taste of your skin and your nipples hard on my tongue.”

Before I can confess I’ve been dreaming about the same thing, he spins me in a circle, lifting me to sit on his desk. A beat later, my bandages are unraveled, and Jack is unraveling me.

The feel of his mouth on my breasts—sucking and biting my nipples until I’m squirming on his desk in anticipation—is even more intense than before. I’m dizzy, reeling, so drunk on his touch, his kiss, that I don’t remember when he disposed of my shoes or pants.

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