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“We’re already dancing, Charlie girl.” His lips move to my ear. His hot breath causes shivers to race down my spine. He pulls me closer. His body is now molded to mine, and I’m pressed up against the wall. We’re completely hidden from sight.
“Fine. You’re so full of yourself. I was wondering what it would be like to be with you for one night.” I start to explain further, but I know I’m digging myself into a hole here, so I need to keep my mouth shut.
“Let’s find out.” Before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine. His kiss is like a storm, a tornado that rips through everything I thought I knew. Rips through everything I thought I wanted.
I kiss him back.
This isn’t the first time his lips have been on mine, but it is the first time his large hands have roamed my body. One hand slides from my hip over my thigh, and then he reaches bare skin just beyond my skirt. He growls and pulls my leg up to wrap around him.
Oh, God. I’m bare, and all it would take was one small move for him to notice. I should stop this. I should push him away, but he deepens this kiss, his tongue gliding with mine as if we’ve done this very thing every day for the last ten years.
His hand moves up my bare thigh beneath my skirt, and when he reaches my hip, he freezes. He pulls away from our kiss to rest his forehead against mine. “Charlie, baby, are you bare right now? Are you walking around in this sexy-ass skirt with no panties?” he asks, his voice is thick and gravelly.
His hard cock is pressing against my belly, and that’s my only excuse for the words that come out of my mouth next. “You ruined my panties,” I blurt.
“Start talking, Charlotte.” He’s using what I imagine is his CEO voice when he wants things to go his way.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Where are your panties?”
“In my purse. Wrapped in toilet paper,” I add, because apparently, once I start talking, I can’t stop.
His hand moves to rest just above my pussy that’s aching for his touch. “Tell me what you liked. What did I do? What did I say? Tell me so that I can do it again. And again, and again. Tell me, Charlie,” he pleads.
“This is embarrassing. Can we just let this go?”
He laughs. Not just a chuckle, but a full “body shaking, head tossed back” laugh. “If you think for one second that you’re going to stand here looking sexy as fuck and tell me that you had to take your panties off because I made your pussy so wet they were drenched and that I’m just going to let that go, you’re wrong. So very, very wrong, Charlie.” He leans in close, his thumb tracing just above where I need it to be beneath my skirt, and presses a feather-soft kiss to my lips. “Tell me.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes and mentally remind myself that I’ve already decided to look for another job. I’ll never be able to face him after this. I mean, I’ll have to for a while, but not forever. No way. “You were feeding me, which is intimate, and then you called me a good girl.”
“Put your arms around my neck.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Put your arms around my neck, Charlie. I’m going to lift you, and I want your legs wrapped around me.”
“Someone might see,” I protest, but it’s weak at best.
“Never.” His voice is full of conviction. “I’ll never let anyone see you like that. They’ll see your bare legs and my back, and that’s only if they come looking for us in the shadows. Arms around my neck.”
What the hell, right? I mean, I’m already in this deep. What are another few minutes of this man's hands and lips on me? Something tells me it’s a memory I’ll never forget. So, I go against all better judgment and place my hands around his neck.
His palms move to the back of my bare thighs, but not before each grabs a handful of ass, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze. “Legs around my waist,” he says gruffly.
Doing as I’m told, I lock my ankles once my legs are wrapped tightly around him. “Good girl,” he murmurs. My body quakes, and I can feel him grin as he presses a tender kiss to my collarbone.
I open my mouth to scold him, but the combination of his hard cock resting just where I need him to be, with only his jeans separating us and his lips nipping and sucking at my neck, I can’t seem to find my voice.
“Tell me I can touch you, Charlie. Tell me that I can take care of that ache between your thighs. Let me show you what a night for us would look like.”
I part my lips to tell him no. This is crazy. We can’t do this. “Okay,” I whisper instead, and I’m not mad about it. Not at all. Especially not when one hand slips between us and his thumb finally finds my clit.
“Oh,” I moan, resting my head back against the wall.
He keeps his thumb drawing lazy circles on my clit, which is doing delicious things to my body, and manages to take another finger and trace it through my desire for him. “Is all this for me?” he rasps. “I need to hear you say it, Charlie. Is this for me? Is your pussy crying for me?” he grates.
“Y-Yes.”
