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I’ve been ready.
But I also love her taste. I can taste her all day long, every day. I lap at her, listening to her sweet sounds, holding her body still as she attempts to writhe under my control. I feel her body tensing as she whimpers, begging me for more.
“Tell me what you want.” I exhale my warm breath against her sex.
“You.” Her voice is tortured. “Inside me.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. My pants drop to the floor, followed by my briefs. I loop a hand around each thigh anchoring myself to her and thrust into her.
She covers her face with her hands and screams.
“Tenley …” I sigh, holding her in place as I thrust.
Her legs wrap tighter around me as she matches my momentum, and then her hooked legs climb up my back as I fill her to the hilt.
She’s shaking, bucking, clawing my back. “Brooks …”
I explode as she comes, then I scoop her up off the desk and sit down in the chair letting her straddle me, her hair falling over my face.
“Thank you.” She drops her head to my shoulder.
“For what?”
“The way I feel right now.” Her voice is still low, the words a moan.
I hold her tighter.
“That isn’t something you need to thank me for. You were an equal player.” I kiss her. “You deserve better.”
She giggles. “I’m not sure how that could have been better.”
“No… I mean, you’re right,” I say with a smile. Hell yes, it was perfect. “But what I meant is that I want to take you out. On a proper date.”
She tilts her head. “A proper date? You mean, with clothes on, other people around? Without us clawing at each other like rabid animals? You think we could do that?”
I shrug. “I’d have to clear it with Ellie, obviously, make sure she’s not working, but… yeah.”
She gasps, mock-surprised. “What would other people say?”
I kiss her chin. “Who the hell cares? Are you in, or not?”
33
Are you in, or not?
Of course I am.
I was into going on a “proper date” with Brooks just as much as I was in to fucking him on the conference room table. Anything involving him, I’m game for.
I still can’t believe we did that, by the way. No, it wasn’t an unused cubicle… but it so many ways, it was hotter than even my most lurid fantasies.
So hot, I’d spent the rest of the week, salivating for the chance to do it again. But Brooks was every bit the gentleman the rest of the week. Every bit the professional. Every time we were in the same room together, he barely afforded me a single sexy look.
The good thing? We got a lot of work done.
The bad thing? All we did was get a lot of work done.
I’d like to think he was being respectful, because, as he said, “I deserve better.” So now, as I get ready for our proper date, I’m so excited, I can barely think straight.
I clip on an earring, studying myself in the mirror and making sure I look perfect for him. I’m wearing a little red sundress that probably shows far more skin than most people have seen on me—but not him. I know he’ll be blown away because it’s sexy and short and cleavage-bearing, nothing like what I wear to the office.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’m a glutton for punishment. He might just be playing me, but I don’t think so.
He has no reason to now.
The promotion is mine.
It hasn’t been officially announced, no. But yesterday, Lisa pulled me aside and said it was mine, if I wanted it.
As if she needs to ask.
I can’t even explain the burden that was lifted from my shoulders, when Brooks did that for me. I was so uptight, so nervous. And now, I feel relaxed, happy… like a totally different person.
It’s all because of him.
Of course, I feel bad that there can’t be two partnerships, because Brooks deserves it. But he told me why he made the choice. For Jace. For me.
And so, yes. I am absolutely, one-hundred percent, falling for Brooks Gentry. How can I not? I keep telling myself I need to guard my heart from getting it broken, but I can’t help it. Every time I look at him, I want to fall so fast into his arms and never let go.
He rings the doorbell right at nine on the dot, which makes me happy. He’s on time when it’s important.
I scuff into my sandals and rush downstairs, opening the door with a breathless excitement. “Hi.”
He gives me a once-over, then leans in and takes my hand, kissing my cheek. “Wow. You’re gorgeous.”
He doesn’t look so bad himself—he’s wearing slim khakis and a button-down shirt and loafers, and he smells delicious.
“Ready?” He tugs my hand outside, but I want to tug him in. I give him a mischievous little smile and he gives me a stern, warning look. “Proper date. We’ll miss our reservations.”
