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I can feel his erection through the material of his pants. My eyes widen when it brushes against my thigh, and he rotates his hips forward. I moan, my heart beating against its cage when he reaches down and hitches my leg over his waist.
I’ve never wanted something so bad.
I squeeze my hand between our bodies—my movement uneasy—and my fingers shake as I attempt to unbuckle his belt.
Benny presses a quick peck to my lips, brushes his nose against mine, and backs away. Rejection smacks me in the face. I reach forward, attempting to grip his shirt and pull him back, but he shakes his head.
“Our first fuck won’t be in this club or on a desk,” he says, his breaths ragged as he stops me from tugging him closer again.
I frown but can’t help but laugh at his words. “You made that romantic by not wanting it here, yet also unromantic by referring to it asour first fuck. You need to work on your vocabulary skills, hubby. Add some romantic words in there.”
A devious smirk forms on his lips. “I can only be halfway romantic, baby.”
I yank the hem of my dress down and slip off the desk.
Benny is right. When I give him such an intimate part of me, I don’t want it to be in his office or at the club. I want it to be somewhere private.
“What about Bria?” I press my hand on my chest to calm my frantic heart. “We need to take her home.”
I can’t ditch my sister for some husbandly dick.
“I’ll have Raul walk her to her car and follow her home.” He adjusts his pants in an attempt to conceal his erection. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go sneaking off. I’m not in the mood to chase you around.”
I nod. He kisses the top of my head and leaves the office.
As soon as he disappears out the door, I scramble toward my bag. I rifle through it for the camera Bria brought me. I’m out of breath as I scout the office for the perfect spot to stash it. It wasn’t wise for Benny to leave his sneaky wife in his office unattended.
Scanning the office, I play with the camera in my hand until my gaze lands on the bookshelf. I scramble toward it, shove a copy ofThe Art of Warto the side, and plant the camera between that and a business encyclopedia.
I retreat a step and am admiring my work when Benny returns.
“You ready?” he asks from the doorway.
I nod as I grab my heels and bag, and he captures my hand as we leave the room. Our fingers interlace as if we’re finally becoming one while we walk down the hall. His hand is cold and callous but offers a sense of security.
We walk into a room where Bria is relaxed on the couch. Her bare feet are kicked up onto the table as if my mother raised us in a barn, and a plate of pizza sits on her lap while she watches TV.
She peers over at us and grins.
Raul joins us, and Benny tells them the plan.
“Can I stay here a bit longer?” Bria asks with a pout.
“No,” Benny says firmly.
“Oh, come on!” She throws her arms out toward the TV. “I like this episode!”
Benny cracks his neck. “Either Raul walks you to your car or I call your father and request he picks you up here.”
I wrinkle my nose at Benny.
Bria scowls at him.
No one likes a snitch.
“Fine,” Bria groans. “But I’m taking a slice for the road.”
“Take the whole fucking pizza for all I care,” Benny replies.
