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Her eyes close, and she releases a small moan that reawakens my urge to make her mine. My fingers graze her neck, and she leans into my touch.
I make my move.
Abruptly, I dive for the desk, sifting through Noah’s papers to see what she was reading before I came in. Her eyes fly open in surprise, and her small hands swat at me until I fall backward onto the floor, laughing. But not before I have whatever she was studying in my grasp.
“That was low,” she reprimands as she frowns down at me.
“I like today’s dress. Low is a very good place to be right now.”
Her legs are now very much on display to me. She squirms in her chair, and I pull her closer by grabbing on to her delicate ankle.
“Uh-uh. No, you don’t get to make sexy, teasing comments after that stunt.” She points her finger at me like I’m in serious trouble.
“You think I’m sexy?”
I rub my thumb across her skin, and she shivers.
“That isn’t what I said.” Noah doesn’t pull away from my physical contact.
“It sort of is.”
“I said your words were sexy and teasing. You don’t need me to tell you that you’re good-looking. I’m very sure you already know exactly what you’ve got going on for you.”
Stubbornly, she crosses her arms across her chest, which only works to my benefit, as it reveals more of her cleavage.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I have confidence, but I do need to hear you tell me that you find me sexy. The words would sound so much better, leaving your lips, in your voice, than they do in my own voice, in my head.” So fucking sexy, I’d replay it on a loop.
“I’m afraid that, today, you’ll have to settle for stroking your own ego.”
Stroking.
I open my mouth, but before any sound comes out, she cuts me off, “Don’t. Don’t even think about it.” She tries to hold back her smile while she pretends to scold me for my dirty mind.
“Fine. Then, let’s see what was distracting you from your very important job where neither of your bosses even showed up for work.”
She giggles. I keep one hand on her since she isn’t pulling away and the other on the item I snagged from her desk. Art classes at the center down the street.
“Are you an artist?” I stretch my legs out and get comfortable on the floor.
“I’m artistic, but I wouldn’t say I’m an artist. At least, not yet.”
“You’re taking classes?”
“Yeah, a few nights a week after work.”
“That’s pretty cool. Much different from how I spend my nights after you leave.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I’ve piqued her interest.
Her mind goes to a dirty place. I pick up on it from her tone. I would bet money she was picturing me getting my jollies. I would also throw down money on her little fantasy of what I did after work being a solo act. I keep both thoughts to myself since I want to know more about her, which won’t happen if we keep going down this road. Well, it might happen. I could learn if she likes her hair pulled or if she prefers the top or the bottom …
I clear my throat. “Yeah, most nights, I’m here, working way past normal business hours, but when I do get out of here before the sun goes down, I usually end my night with a few drinks at my favorite bar, Jeremy’s.”
“If you’re working so much, then you probably deserve a few drinks.”
“A few, yeah, but you know what happens when you plan on having a couple of drinks. You loosen up and get into a bullshit conversation, and just a few turns into a few too many. Then, I hate myself in the morning when I’m here or working on site with a fucking hangover.”
