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“Oh, you’ve changed your mind,” he whispered. “That’s alright. You’re not in trouble.”
If he meant that, then why did itfeellike I was in trouble.
My lips ached to discover his kiss. The longer his thumb teased the corner of my mouth, the hotter my cheeks grew.
I forcefully swallowed. “Yes, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll do it.”
“Why don’t we seal the deal?”
“With what?”
His grin turned mischievous. “With something you’ve been thinking about for a while now, sweet Sadie.”
I didn’t have time for any kind of shock. I didn’t even have time to think. Andres bent down and replaced his thumb in a flash. Wicked heat permeated my entire being as I tilted my head back, accommodating his hand on my throat. Light touches from his fingers drew a protracted moan, and then I was leaning back in the chair with my legs parted, trying to yank him on top of me.
Each rugged chuckle he released between kisses taunted me and doubled my yearning. He knew what I wanted, and he was happy to deliver it. And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet. Shoot, we were about to fake a relationship. Why not try kissing? Why not practice for our public appearance?
I whimpered. “It’s just practice. We’re practicing for...”
He kissed me silent. He stole from em the words I ached to say.We’re practicing for the luncheon. We hadn’t discussed the length of this situation. It was one of the points in my mental list earlier—but who couldthinkwith a guy like Andres being so sweet with his mouth?
Unwavering joy rose through the panic that threatened to break me apart. The urge to fight retreated, leaving me with only my sweltering ideas from my walk over here. So many things had passed through my mind in the time I left my apartment till now, and so many things still waited to be acknowledged.
Like the heat blooming between my thighs.
I cupped his face while returning another desperate kiss, sucking his tongue into my mouth and dragging from him a rough grunt. While dueling fervently, I arched toward him, wrapping my legs around his waist. It was a bold move to tangle with him, but again, we were justpracticing. Why not take it a step further?
Andres surfaced long enough to meet my gaze. “Tell me what you want.”
I stared at him, aghast at the lust in his voice, almost too disoriented by my own desire to piece anything logical together. He was giving me the opportunity to stop the whole thing, to leave it at just a kiss.
Maybe if we stopped now, I could make the alarms in my head stop. I just wasn’t sure which alarms were for what warnings—to avoid the disaster of sleeping with my boss, or to miss my chance at indulging in that strange desire to kneel at his feet?
I struggled to breathe, to think. I watched him watch me, and I watched how he tensed his muscles to keep himself from making an errant move. His hard length pressed to my inner thigh. Not the place I wanted it, but then again, he clearly wasn’t about to make any assumptions about a mere kiss.
I shivered. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
My knees weakened, and I would have certainly crumbled to the ground if I hadn’t already been sitting down. I laced my fingers behind his neck and pushed him south. “Kiss me…under my skirt…”
The hem of my skirt flipped up, inviting cool air to coast over my wet panties. Andres plunged south and nuzzled into the mess, sending tiny shocks up toward my heart. I gasped for air while clutching the back of his head, dizzied by the rush of his hands removing my underwear and exposing my aching slit.
I watched him reverently trace a line of arousal to my clit. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better view, and I couldn’t even think of someone who had ever done it so elegantly. No one had ever truly taken the time. The only reason I asked was because…
Well, I wanted to see if he would do it.
Thoughts dispersed when he slowly drove his tongue between my slit. Arousal rushed to the site of affection, coating his journey along my folds. Every lap spoke of worship, of the ways he would do this if I asked him to do it. No wonder he hovered over me the way he had—he’d probably been thinking about the same thing this whole time.
White heat flooded my body. Did my boss really want me like that? Did he think about me when I wasn’t around? I nearly climbed up the chair from the burst of attention he gave my clit. Long, dedicated strokes invited my hips to buck, propelled by my grip on the armrests of the chair.
A rush of ecstasy rolled over my shoulders, and then I convulsed with my hand planted firmly over my mouth. Muffled squeals hardly stopped his attentive task. He kept up until I pushed on his forehead, and even then, he continued to stroke me with his thumb, light sweeps sending a tingling zap every so often through my form.
He wiped his lips with a rugged chortle. “We should practice like this more often.”
Now I really felt like I was in trouble.
Because there was that alarm again, that flashing red light warning me against the whole thing. People didn’t pair up for any other reason than benefits. So, if anything, it was the perfect situation. We got along well enough.
