Page 53 of Bound to Burn


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“Yes,” she answers, and rocks her pelvis into me.

My cock strains against the zipper of my pants.

Her hands remain at her sides, palms firmly pressed against the counter, fingernails digging into the wood. Her nipples become tight points that press through her shirt and rub against my chest, causing my nerve endings to rapid fire.

I want to take her pleasure and swallow it whole, to wrap her body around mine, to sink deep inside of her, and show her exactly what she does to me, but I’m not past the point of no return. Yet.

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers to me, arching her back as I press my finger harder against her, causing the material of her panties to dig further along her seam.

Fuck, I might come from just touching her.

I have to remind myself there’s a power dynamic that I’m uncomfortable with, and this is not the right place for what is happening right now. I push myself away from her with more force than I intended. I didn’t expect the loss of her body against mine to hurt, but I am physically reeling and painfully hard.

I take a deep breath and try to refocus. “That shouldn’t have happened.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry.”

I dare to make eye contact with her. Sasha looks at me with disappointment and sympathy, as if she can tell how much pain I’m in.

“Don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head slowly, trying to reassure me, but no matter what she says, it wouldn’t be enough.

Even if she didn’t work for me, this is just too much. The things I feel for her I haven’t felt in a long time, and I am not ready to dive into that ocean.

“You should go home,” I mutter and turn away from her.

I hear her slide off the counter, her shoes hitting the tile. She doesn’t say anything as she hesitates behind me. In my mind I can picture her face, those big brown eyes pinning me, owning me in a way that scares the shit out of me, and I know I can’t look at her right now.

“Lock the door on your way out,” I say over my shoulder as I take the stairs two at a time to my loft. She can’t work here anymore. I can’t be around her, not after that.

I stop in the small bathroom at the top of the stairs and lean over the sink, splashing cold water on my face. What I need is a fucking cold shower. As I bring my hands to my nose, I can smell her on my fingers. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as I do. I rock my elbows against the counter, half wanting to run back downstairs and stop her from leaving, and the other half wanting to reach inside my jeans and fist my cock, but that will never be enough to get her out of my system.

Fuck. What is wrong with me? My body is in a state of free fall, and no matter what I do, I can’t get the scent of her or the feel of her out of my mind.

20

WAS I JUST FIRED?

SASHA

Paper in Fire by John Cougar Mellencamp

Islide into my Jeep and sit for a moment, staring at the record store from my rearview mirror, wondering, or maybe hoping, that Cash would run out the front door after me. Several minutes go by, and I realize he’s not coming. I lean back against my seat and take a deep breath. My body is still reeling from his hands on me. There is a deep ache in my belly that won’t dissipate.

I start the engine and pull out of my parking spot and take a left onto the street, watchingUnderground Recordsget smaller in my rearview mirror and trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

He was so close to giving in, and I don’t know what scared him. Maybe I was too forward, too bold, but I couldn’t help it. He is maddening. The way his eyes slide over my body, pierce into me, making me feel wanted and treasured, all at the same time. There is a fine line between lusted after and revered.

He told me to go home.

I start to wonder, was I just fired?

If I was, what was I fired for?

Was it the fact that I had the music on too loud? Or dancing while I cleaned? Or was it because I hopped up on the counter and moved his hand under my skirt?

I pushed him into doing something he wasn’t ready for, but I couldn’t help myself. I saw how he looked at me, how much he wanted me, and I ached for his hands on my body. Am I bad person because I wanted just a taste of what he is capable of giving me?

I’m pretty sure none of those reasons are grounds for firing me.

I’m angry at him for pushing me away.

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