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Grayson inclines his chin and then fixes me in that steely green stare. “Ready?”
“I am,” I say, and I don’t look at Kevin.
Grayson steps back to allow me to exit and I enter the hallway. He joins me. We don’t touch, not here at work and while that’s my rule, I find myself wanting to break that standard now. He motions to my office and we walk in that direction.
The minute we’re inside, I turn to face him and he shuts the door. “Eric told you my concern?”
“He did.” He lifts the folder. “Grab your things. I want to get this to Blake, and Reese Summer has a big trial starting in two days. He asked if we could meet him for lunch and unless you really need to come back afterward, I say we work from home the rest of the day.”
“Home?”
“Home, baby.”
My smile is instant. “I can’t wait.” I hurry to my desk and start gathering my things. Grayson follows and sets the folder on the desk, tabbing through the data.
“Anything that feels important?”
“The fact these people are spread out across our various divisions is indicative of a planned attack. Which we knew. The file is simply added confirmation.”
I round the desk to stand next to him. “Do you trust Kevin?”
“I will never trust a man who wants in my woman’s panties.”
“How very caveman of you. He does not—”
His hand slides under my hair to cup my neck and he steps into me, dragging my mouth to his. “A man knows when another man wants his woman. He wants you.”
“My panties are spoken for by you and have been since the moment I met you.” I grab his tie. “Note my skill at being both kinky and romantic at the same time.”
“And while I appreciate your skills, I do not appreciate him. At all.”
I’m suddenly concerned that he might think I want to make him jealous or pay him back. “I didn’t know, Grayson. I swear to you. I’ve always been blinded by you. I didn’t—”
“I know,” he says and his mouth comes down on mine, his tongue licking long and deep, and he tastes of possession, of demand.
His hand slides under my jacket and he drags it down my shoulders, trapping my wrists behind my back. “Grayson,” I murmur, not sure if I’m objecting or requesting. “We’re at the office.”
“And when we leave, it will be with the taste of you on my tongue.” He lifts me and sets me on my new desk, and his eyes, those intense green eyes, burn with passion, with hunger, and my body wants what he offers.
“I don’t think—”
“Good,” he says, sliding my skirt up my thighs, and inching my knees apart. “I don’t want you to think.”
“We’ve never done this here.”
“There’s a cure for that.” He goes down on one knee, and kisses my knee through the thigh-high hose I’m wearing. My breath is raspy, my body tingling, every nerve ending I own on fire, alive. I’m so alive with this man in a way I wasn’t without him.
I want to tell him he has nothing to prove. I want to tell him he’s everything and Kevin is nothing but a friend, but I know he knows. He knows. This is about more than Kevin. This is about three months that he can’t control. Three months that he won’t be fully in control. And what he wants and needs right now, is just that: control.
His hands slide up my thighs and when his thumbs settle on the bare skin above my thigh-highs, I suck in a breath. He strokes a lazy finger along the delicate skin and I clench against the sensations. He catches my knees and kisses them. “Relax, baby.”
“What if someone comes in?”
“I locked the door.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he repeats, his really wonderful lips quirking, lips that are about to be in the most intimate part of me. He eases my legs apart again and inches my skirt all the way to my hips. He leans in closer, his breath a warm whisper over my sex. My nipples pucker, my breasts are heavy. My sex is pulsing and my hands are tied. He gives my clit a lick. I lean back, catching my trapped hands on the desk. And just in time. He yanks away my panties.
I gasp and before I can fully recover from the shock, he’s suckling me and I’m gasping all over again, sensations trembling through me.
His fingers slide along the slick sensitive folds of my body and—oh God—slip inside me. I’m arching into his touch, unaware of anything but his hands and mouth teasing me, driving me wild. He’s punishing in the most delicious of ways with his exploration, flicking my clit with his thumb while his tongue is delving in and out, licking here and there. And those fingers, those talented fingers stretch me, stroke me, press deeper and harder, exploring every sensitive part of me. I can hear my pants, feel the rasp of my dry throat, and I want to reach for him, but he pulls me forward, drapes my legs over his shoulders, forcing me to hold myself up with my hands. It’s about control and he has it. And I like when he has it.
