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I type up a response.
Me
In fact, yeah. I was fucking my boss. I actually was last year when we were in Tokyo, and for a couple months after that. But then we stopped. Because, ya know, rules and decorum and all that shit. But she’s retiring, so we’re giving this another go. Like an honest to god go of it. I like her. Be nice.
I toss my phone to the side and do one last sweep, making sure I’ve got everything before I zip everything up and check my phone again. There’s a flood of new messages congratulating me and apologizing for taking the piss. After shooting off another message telling them thanks and that I’ll talk to them more later, I shove my phone in my pocket and head out the door.
I never thought that this stupid little weekend business trip would lead to this. Honestly, I thought we were done after we broke things off last year. I think we both thought the other was less attached than ourselves, but I am fucking stoked to find out that that was never the case.
Ivy likes me. She wants to date me, be with me, show me off. No more keeping what we are to each other in secret. That woman is mine, and I’m hers.
Fuck, this is a good feeling.
EPILOGUE
When I travel, I don’t really care about where I’m staying. A king bed and a room with a relatively nice view is all I care about. But once I asked Ivy to tag along with me on this trip, I knew I needed to upgrade to something different. It’s not that she’s high-maintenance—okay, maybe she is. But she wouldn’t have an issue staying in whatever room I got; I just want to let this be a nice trip for her.
So I canceled my reservation and booked a penthouse in the city. It’s going to add about twenty to thirty minutes to my commute for the training seminars, but I don’t really care. This is going to make Ivy happy. That’s what I care about.
She flew home from Nashville, and I flew here two days ago. And now I’m just waiting at the airport with a sign that I know is going to make her smile and blush at the same time.
“Mistress Ivy” is written in bold, bright red letters on this white piece of paper I hold at my chest. I get a lot of side-eye as people walk past me, but when she finally walks through the gate into baggage claim, the way her face lights up with embarrassment is so worth it.
“Gregory!” she whisper yells. “Are you kidding me?” She takes the paper from my hands and crumples it up as we come together for a kiss. In public. God, this feels too fucking good.
“What?” I act stupid with an innocent smile. “I thought you’d like it.”
“You’re such a brat.” She groans and acts annoyed, but I can tell she secretly loves it. My girl likes to be doted on. And in public. In. Fucking. Public.
Finally.
After we get her bags, we head into the city to the penthouse I’ve rented out for the week. I was in training meetings all day, so I’m ready to go out with her for food and drinks and then bring her back and fuck her into oblivion.
It’s only been a couple of days, but I’ve been craving this woman like an addict. I can’t get enough. I’ve rubbed one out too many times to count since the last time I saw her. And sitting in the car with her isn’t helping. Her scent wraps around like a fucking vise grip, making my cock rock hard in my pants.
I have a feeling dinner is going to be the last thing on either of our minds once we’re alone.
And goddamn, was I right. The second we’re inside and I put her bags on the floor, she pushes me up against the door, slamming it shut in the process. She’s on me like a heat-seeking missile. Her mouth kisses me, her hands pull my shirt up so that she can feel the muscles underneath, and her hips push into my own.
After I get over the initial shock, I grab onto her ass and pull her as close as she possibly can be. And then the frantic undressing starts. She pulls off my shirt, and I unbutton her jeans. She starts on my pants while I tug her shirt over her head. Something rips in the process, but we’re too lost in what we’re doing to know whose it was or even care.
She pushes my pants and boxers down over my hips, and gravity does the rest of the work. My cock bobs free between us, the precum on the tip rubbing against her stomach as we kiss like we’re each other’s oxygen.
Dropping to my knees, I pull her jeans all the way down, leaving the silky panties on. I love the way she looks in lingerie, and I’ve decided I want to fuck her with it on. There’s a dark spot from how wet she is, and when I cover it with my mouth, she moans and leans forward, propping herself up on the door.
Her hair falls forward, touching the top of my head, and her eyes close as the heat of my mouth teases her slit. Her other hand goes to my hair, ruffling the soft strands as I flatten my tongue against her.
“Fuck me against this door.” Her voice is breathy and full of arousal.
“I’d prefer to take my time with you,” I say, smirking up at her. I know she’s going to get her way. After all, she is in charge. But I can’t help but fight back a little. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.
“I’ve been missing you for days.” She moans when I move her panties and slip a finger into her wetness. “We can take our time later, baby. Just fuck me.”
“How attached are you to these?” I ask, gesturing to the panties I’m currently holding to the side as I play.
“I don’t—” Her voice stutters when I circle her clit. “I don’t care. Why do you care?”
“Because I want to fuck you in this gorgeous set,” I tell her as I take ahold of the fabric. “But if I’m fucking you against this door, they’re going to be in the way.”
