Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I never understood cuddling. I was firmly in Team Don’t Touch Me After Sex and Respect My Personal Bubble. But that was before I knew what it felt like to be in his arms. It’s my favorite place to be. I don’t feel violated or suffocated by him. Instead, I feel cherished—and I love it.
I perch on his knee, but he drags me back into his lap. He finds his spot in the bend of my neck and presses long, sweet kisses there.
“What if someone walks in?” I ask, my eyes fluttering closed.
“They better knock, or I’ll fire them.”
I smile as his kisses reach my jaw. “You can’t just fire people.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you’d feel bad,” I say, laughing.
He grins against my lips. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Yet I do.
I hold my breath just before he does exactly what I expect him to do. One hand splays against my stomach, and the other slides up my thigh. I inhale, holding it as his fingers reach my already soaked flesh.
He growls in my ear, nipping at my lobe.
“What?” I ask coyly, tilting my head to the side. “No panties shouldn’t be a problem because no one should know but me.”
He turns his chair so that if someone does open his door, they won’t see anything. Then he slides one of my legs over his lap.
“This is against the employee handbook,” I tease, resting my head against his. His cock is rock hard beneath me.
“Probably. But there’s probably a clause about spouses.”
I snort. “You think?”
“I’ll have HR amend it as soon as I get you off.”
I sag against him as he slips a finger inside my slit.
“We’re going to have to do something about this,” he whispers, sliding one, and then two fingers into me. “I might have to transfer you after all.”
A short gasp escapes my lips as I press down against his hand.
“I love that you’re always ready for me,” he says, tugging at my earlobe with his teeth.
“Little did you know, but I’ve been ready for you like this since the day I met you at Coffee and Cream.”
He growls again. “Don’t tell me that.”
“It’s true.” I moan softly as he forms smooth circles over my clit. “Can we lock the door for just a few minutes?”
“No. I have a meeting in”—he checks the clock—“six minutes.”
I bark out a laugh that turns quickly into another moan.
A tingle dances up my spine, drawing with it the weight that precedes an orgasm. I grip Jason’s thighs, my nails digging into him, as he pushes a finger deep inside me.
His other hand joins the onslaught, working together to bring me to climax quickly.
“Ah!” I gasp, the intensity and pressure so sharp it’s almost painful. Jason presses a hand over my mouth as my head pushes against him, my body fucking his hand.
He chuckles, shushing me. “If you can’t do this quietly, this won’t be able to happen again.”
Despite my world falling apart around me, I manage to glare at him.
This only makes him chuckle harder.
Finally, he brings me down slowly until I’m fully satiated. He ends it with a soft kiss to my temple.
“Up you go,” he says, helping me off his lap. “I really do have a call in two minutes.”
I straighten my skirt, glancing at his pants. I can’t help but think about what he said he’s thought about at work. Me, under his desk, his cock in my mouth.
“Later,” he says, winking as if he reads my mind.
“Well, then don’t stand for a while.”
He grips his cock and groans. “Noted.”
“Oh, one more thing,” I say as I’m headed to my office. “Fika texted me this morning and they have a shift open tomorrow night.”
“The restaurant?”
I nod. “Yeah. I pick up a couple of shifts there a week if I can.”
“You used to, you mean.” His lips twitch as he goes back to his computer. “Don’t forget to get the report for the gates in San Francisco and Salt Lake City.”
“They’re already in your inbox.”
“I wish I was in your box,” he mumbles.
I shake my head and get back to work.
Chapter 25
Chloe
“Mimi, this is the best damn peach pie I’ve ever had,” Ripley says, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “But if you tell my mother, I’ll deny I said it.”
My grandmother basks in Ripley’s attention on her right, and Tate’s on her left—both charming the hell out of her.
These Brewer men really are the Trifecta of Power.
I laugh, realizing that it was a different three when Nickie and I discussed this. The fact that it still applies is hilarious—and telling.
I refill my glass of iced tea, pretending that I don’t know the pitcher is made of crystal. My plastic one, stained perfectly by years of sweet tea making, was lost in the move. Jason's only pitcher costs a few hundred dollars. He doesn’t know why he has it or when he got it. I let him know that we’ll be getting a new plastic one because I have anxiety attacks every time I’m forced to use his.