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None of my siblings or cousins, not even wild Jason, would get themselves in this big of a pickle.
I have to call him.
I pull out my cell phone, then realize it’s barely seven. Uncle Sherman is no doubt an early riser, but he’s also retired, so I don’t feel comfortable ringing him at this hour.
Eight would be better.
A knock on the frame of the open door startles me.
Bailey stands there, delectable in my favorite office outfit of hers, a black jumpsuit that I can already imagine peeling down her body.
And in her hand?
The pink lip gloss.
Fuck.
I scoot up to the desk so she won’t notice I’m already at full mast within ten seconds of looking at her.
“You okay, Rhett?” She heads for my desk, and I’m not sure where to look. Her breasts, slightly swaying beneath the soft fabric, as if her bra is lightweight or maybe, God, she doesn’t have one on at all.
Yeah, I’m done for.
This is why bosses don’t date anyone at the office. I’m not going to get a damn thing done.
“Please say you’re wearing underwear.” My words stumble over each other.
She glances back at the open door, then unfastens three of the satin buttons to reveal both glorious pink nipples. “Sorry. My sunburn makes it hard to wear my usual undergarments. Is that going to be a problem?”
Fuck. “Close the door.”
“You sure?”
“Close the damn door.”
She does as I tell her, but by the time she’s got it latched, I have the pantsuit down to her waist.
I close in behind her, both hands on her bare breasts. “I’m never going to get a thing done with you around.”
“Good.” She wiggles her hips, and the suit falls to the floor. She steps out, naked other than a pair of ankle-breaking stilettos. “I couldn’t wear shoes like this on the beach.”
I can do nothing but look at her for a full minute, her skin glowing in the overhead light, shoulders tipped in pink, the skin that was beneath her bikini paler than the rest even though the strict tan lines are gone.
I sweep her into my arms and carry her to the sofa in the corner opposite the work desk, which is scattered with papers.
“The rest of the staff will be here any minute,” I tell her.
“Then you better get on with it.” She sits against the back of the sofa, her arms resting along the cushions. She spreads herknees wide, and fuck. I’m a goner. She still holds the lip gloss in her hand.
“I have one request,” I say as I unbuckle my belt.
“You want to have sex with me while I put on my lip gloss?” She uncaps the top.
I pause. “How…”
“I thought about it later. I caught you watching me a time or two, and I thought you might be thinking I was juvenile, wearing drugstore lip gloss.”
“No, I spent way too much time thinking about it.”
