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I stretch an arm out behind her, move my legal pad, and close the laptop. I lean forward, inhaling the floral perfume of her hair, giving her even less space. She makes no effort to move back, but she doesn’t lean into me either. I slide the laptop from the surface of the table onto the seat of one of the chairs.
There. My half of the conference room table is bare.
Just like she will be in a moment.
I lift her gently, placing Tenley on my desk.
She’s figured it out. I can see it in her eyes.
“Wh—what are you doing?” she asks.
I lean down. My lips hover just in front of hers, but I don’t brush them. I need to know she wants this and when her mouth moves on mine, I’m convinced.
Her arms close behind my neck. Her kiss is urgent and at the same time somehow sweet.
I pull away. “You mean what are we doing?”
She nods.
“I think you know. I think you’ve wanted it as much as I have.”
My palms drop to the smooth cherrywood of the table, fingers kneading her firm ass.
The kiss is long—longer than I mean it to be—and deep. In my fantasies, there was something fast and rabid about it, quick and dirty. But I can’t fight the need to want to savor every moment with her. When I’m finally able to break my mouth away from hers, she gasps as I kiss down her jawline and her neck.
I kiss back up her jawline to her lips and take her mouth with mine again. My hands roam down the sides of her body to the hem of her skirt. God. This is the skirt from my fantasies—tight and yet somehow demure. I clutch the fabric in both hands and start to yank it up.
She pulls away from me and throws a hand up. “Brooks, wait … stop.”
Damn. Did I read her wrong? I let go and straighten up. As soon as my breath is no longer frantic and ragged, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are there … security cameras here?”
I laugh, planting my hands on the desk and kissing her forehead. “No.”
“Are you sure?” She looks around. “No one will see us?”
I move one hand and comb it through her dark, lush hair. “The only security cameras are in the front lobby. I made sure.”
“Really sure?”
In my fantasies, we never had to worry about this. But in the past few days, since I started thinking about how to make it a reality, I’ve done my homework. “Absolutely.”
She studies me for any hint of a lie, then, satisfied, leans in kisses me.
And this time when my hands clutch the hem of that skirt, she doesn’t stop me. In fact, she helps with the zipper, and soon, it’s puddled at her feet. The pearl buttons on her blouse are so small and delicate, but she helps me with those too. I unclasp a nude-colored lace bra, edging it off of her bit by bit.
Helping her back onto the slick cherry surface of the enormous table, I take a moment to take her in. Tenley Bayliss, wearing nothing but a little black lace thong, nylons, and high heels, sitting atop the conference room table, her legs spread for me.
As she beckons me, I’m positive I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life.
My breath hitches as I bridge the distance in record-time, ready to kiss and touch and suck everything in my sight. Reminding myself not to get too excited, I take my time.
I kiss down her jawline, neck, and cleavage, then take a pert pink nipple in my mouth as I roll the other between my fingers. Her legs swing wildly around me, so much so that she kicks me once or twice.
It’s hard not to chuckle even as badly as I want to take her. I take one last taste before laying her back, then I grab her legs and gently pull her so her ass is at the edge of the table and her legs are wrapped around me. With my fingers tucked into the waist of her nylons, they roll down. I remove them so her feet are bare, kneel on my knees, and press a kiss to the bottom of each foot.
Her feet flex as my lips brush against the soles of her feet.
I kiss her ankle then up her shin to her knee, and up her thigh to her hip. When I come to the lace panties, I press my tongue against it until both my tongue and the cloth sink in.
Her thighs squeeze around my neck. “Oh my god …”
I move up and sink my teeth into the purple panties pulling them off, and then I kiss down. This time there is nothing between her opening and my tongue. She quivers. I don’t need to linger. One stroke of the tongue lets me know she’s ready.
