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I huff. “You’re not having my skirt, Tag. Go away.”
“Got dick and now you’re sendin’ me on my way?” He arches a brow. “Next time, I’ll go out to that workshop and fuck you on the hood of a truck, so everyone will know that?—”
“What? I’m yours?”
He runs a hand through his hair. I know that he was about to say exactly that.
That I’m his.
But I’m not. So I don’t know why we have to keep going around the houses like this. It’s too damn hard.
“That we’re fuckin’ and to stay the fuck away from you,” he replies.
I roll my eyes, securing my panties back in place. “We’re not fucking, T. We had sex in my office because we both wanted to get off. That’s it. Period. The end.”
He does that eyebrow thing again. “You really think that’s true? That you won’t be wantin’ to bounce around on my cock again tonight?” He smirks. “Your pussy needs this, babe. You know it. I know it. My dick knows it. Send me any more texts like that and I’ll spank your ass and not care who sees me do it. Then you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
“Promises, promises,” I sing-song. “Now if you’ll kindly let me get back to my desk.”
“Skirt.”
I stare up at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Try me.”
“Fuck you, Tag. I’m not taking my skirt off. What will I wear?”
He reaches for the pair of overalls in the corner that one of the guys must have left there and I gape at him.
“These will do.”
“I’m not wearing those.”
“Babe, you don’t call the shots when you send me shit like that. Gotta know there’re consequences to your actions.”
I put my hands on my hips. “You want this skirt, tough guy? Then you can try to remove it from my body.”
I smile smugly, knowing he doesn’t have the time or patience for that. But instead of rolling his eyes and stepping away and pissing off, he just shakes his head.
“Gettin’ your clothes off you is half the fun. Not that I’ve ever had to wrestle them off your body. You drop them willingly.”
“Well, I hate to be a foregone conclusion,” I sigh. “But I need my skirt. If I take it off now, it’ll mean I’ll be prancing around in my lacy panties. I’m sure Rock and the boys won’t mind…”
“Fine,” he grunts, pointing at me. “But don’t think this means we’re even. We’re not.”
He unlocks the door and pulls it open.
Lucky for me, nobody is waiting outside. It wasn’t like we were quiet when we were banging against my desk.
“Like I said. I’ll text you if I need a booty call,” I sing out after him.
He leaves me without saying another word.
Goddamn asshole.
I pull myself together, fix my skirt, tuck my blouse back in and fix my hair.
That goddamn beast just barged in here and made a goddamn mess, and not just my desk and all the shit lying all over the floor.
