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“Hi. I saw what you did earlier.”
“Which one?”
“Breaking up the fight.”
“And?” I rest a palm on the wall above her head, lean down, and nip her earlobe.
She inhales sharply. “And I want to invite you to my office to talk.”
My chest rumbles, and I drag my tongue from her jaw to the shell of her ear. “Just talk?”
She whimpers breathily. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not you can make me come in five minutes.”
Ah, hell.
We’re a tangle of limbs as we navigate her tiny office. The door bangs shut behind me, and I reach for the doorknob to make sure it’s locked. I spin her and brace her palms on the desk, bracketing her with mine and trailing kisses down the side of her neck. She’s a whimpering mess, ass squirming and back arching.
Hiking up her skirt, I let my hand slide along her inner thigh until my fingers reach the hem of her lace panties. Dipping one finger inside her, I groan and bite her shoulder. “Tess, look at you. Wet and ready and I barely even touched you.”
She doesn’t answer, just tightens her thighs around my hand and doesn’t stop squirming. I can’t take it anymore either, so I unbuckle my pants and let it pool around my calves.
With her panties hooked to the side, I fist my cock and slide into her wet, tight hole, grunting and grinding my teeth, my nerve endings exploding.
When I’m all in, I hunch behind her and reach around to lightly rub circles on her hard nub. My hips ram forward while I continue touching and stroking her clit. The bar’s noise is nothing more than a muffled sound.
Blood roars in my ears, sweat sliding down my forehead and the sides of my face.
Tess pushes her ass to me and rides my cock as best she can given the position of our bodies. Her orgasm uncoils with blinding, mind-blowing force. I don’t stop stroking her button until her trembling ebbs, and only until then do I ride the wave, pistoning my hips and pumping every drop of my seed inside her.
I’m a fucking goner for this girl.
I kiss her temple, tasting her sweat. “You know, Tess. We should talk in your office more often.”
She laughs and smacks my forearm. “I might summon you once in a while if you’re up for it.”
This desk is about to become our second bed.
6
TESS
Theo is bringing me to the Tate’s for Sunday lunch, and I’m freaking out.
Viktor is pretty cool, and Theo keeps telling me his foster parents are nice. But I still can’t stop myself from feeling anxious.
What if they don’t like the way I dress or the way I talk? What if I say the wrong thing or worse, laugh at something that’s not supposed to be funny? What if they just hate me on sight? Or what if they want someone else for him?
As it turns out, all my worries are for nothing because Mr. and Mrs. Tate—who ask me to call them Bernie and Deb—quickly become two of my most favorite people in the world from the moment I met them.
Bernie is just a few inches taller than me. His silver hair is slicked back, blue eyes warm and welcoming. Deb is the woman I want to be when I’m older. She moves gracefully and delicately—whether she’s stirring a spoon in the pot or sliding into herseat at the dining table. She has an easy smile, and I can see two dimples peek in her cheeks.
Lunch is absolutely delicious. I’m so full but I don’t want to stop eating yet. I haven’t eaten home-cooked meals in a long, long time. But of course, Deb whips out a burnt basque cheesecake that immediately has my mouth watering. Next time I visit them, I’m wearing sweatpants.
I’m happily helping myself to a slice when Deb grins at Theo. “I never expected Theo to bring a girl home before Viktor.”
