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It’s officially the end of the workday.
I hover in the living room, waiting. I want to stand right next to the door and pull it open the second I hear footsteps, but that would make me look…
I don’t know how it would make me look. Too eager? Too into him? I’ve never been very good at playing. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and no amount of forbidden sex with the man who owns my building is going to change something that’s right at the center of my personality.
Sometimes I wish I could be cool and collected and keep my cards close to my chest, but that’s never been me.
The knock at the door is loud and confident, and I know before I get to the peephole that it’s him. Graham stands on the other side of the glass. Even with this strange fisheye view, he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. His suit is sharp, his tie undone and laying over his collar. It’s sexy as fuck.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and open the door.
The man who stands in the hall is every bit as tall and beautiful as he was before, but not as reserved. He has a darker look in his eyes. Before, he didn’t let me see the hunger in them until he was sitting down with me. Now it’s apparent, as if he’s not even trying to hide it.
“Madelyn,” he says, his voice low, a certain strain in it like he’s been holding in how much he wants this all day. Maybe even all week.
“Graham,” I respond, opening the door wider and waving him in.
As soon as the door closes behind him, he takes my chin in his hand, tilts my face up to his, and looks into my eyes.
“Did any of the repairmen bother you?”
“Bother me?” I let out a giggle. “No, of course not. They were perfectly professional.”
“Good. Is the window fixed?”
“It’s in one piece again. They were very fast about it. You would’ve been impressed.”
“I doubt anything could impress me as much as you in this dress.” His eyes drop down over my body, and I’msoglad I didn’t change. “I think that’s what you owe me for the window.”
“My dress?” His hand on my face is gentle, but I can feel the strength behind it. “You want me to give you my dress?”
“I want you to give me your body in that dress,” he says, then leans in and kisses me.
It’s a hard kiss, harder than I thought it would be, and Graham lets out a relieved sound like the most frustrating part of his day is that he wasn’t already here to kiss me and fuck me and…whatever else he has planned.
When he pulls back, I’m short of breath from the intensity of the kiss. “I can give that to you. Just…just tell me where.”
With a sexy grin, Graham guides me into the kitchen. It’s bright and spacious and clean. I’d expected him to take me to the bedroom, but instead he lifts me up and puts me on the countertop I wiped down three times today. With his hands on my waist, he leans down to drag his teeth over the side of my neck. Shivers run down my body and my nipples harden. Graham inhales deeply, and his lips brush over the same spot before his hands slide down and he spreads my thighs.
It makes my dress hitch up and he pushes it higher, almost to my waist, exposing the matching fabric of my panties. I give myself to him without hesitation. I want this more than he could possibly know.
“Did you wear these for me?” He asks in a low tone, gliding a finger underneath the lace waistband and dragging it away from my skin. Graham lets the panties fall back into place, then pulls them away again, letting cool air come into contact with the dampness between my thighs.
“Yes,” I answer, dizzy from the way he touches me ever so slightly with his knuckle.
“How hard did you try to get the window fixed?” he muses, pulling the panties a little farther out from my skin and letting his fingers move toward my clit. I spread my thighs a little more. “Or did you plan to come to me the whole time?”
His fingers dip down, his knuckles making faint contact with my clit, and I moan out loud.
“No, I tried,” I tell him, my face hot, the space between my thighs even hotter.
His fingertips stroke fully against my clit. “I could’ve told you that you’d never find anyone to fix this window. And then you walked into my office and made an offer. You knew I’d take you up on it, didn’t you?” he questions, and there’s an edge to his tone.
“I hoped you would,” I answer honestly, my eyes caught in his gaze like a hunter to the prey.
“You shouldknowI want you,” he says as if it’s a command. I almost tell him yes Sir. So close to being weak for him and putty in his hands.
“I want you, too.” I tell him, although it’s barely spoken under my chaotic breath.
