Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
I can’t get enough of her. Not even close.
Her hands skim under my blazer, palms flat against my ribs, and she’s not gentle about it. She drags her nails along the skin, and I nearly lose my damn mind. I brace one hand against the locker, trapping her in, and slide the other up under her tank until my palm is full of soft, perfect skin. Holy hell, she’s hot to the touch. My fingers brush the edge of her bra, and she shudders, lips parting in a shocked little gasp that shoots straight to my cock.
I love how fucking responsive she is. One touch and I’ve got her melting. I brush my thumb over her nipple, slow and teasing, and it instantly goes hard under the thin fabric. Dee drags her nails down my ribs again, not even trying to play nice. I swear, my vision actually blurs for a second.
“You gonna start something, Sunshine?” My voice comes out low and rough, barely more than a growl. “Because I will finish it.”
She grins, all teeth and trouble. “Looks like you’re the one with the boundary issues, Tigger. I just walked into the break room. You’re the one who kissed me first.”
That does it. I slip my hand up the back of her shirt and unhook her bra in record time. She gasps, and the soft, perfect, shocked little noise makes my cock nearly punch through my zipper. I palm her breast, thumb rolling over the tight tip, and fuck me, she’s already straining toward my hand like she’s craving it as desperately as I am.
Her head thumps back against the locker. Brown eyes wide, lips wet, cheeks flushed. The sight does insane things to my brain. I want to bite her. Lick her. Mark her. All at once.
“Hurry up before we get caught,” she pants, but her body is giving up the game.
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I drop to my knees in front of her, yanking her jeans and panties down in one move as she kicks her sneakers off. I drag her legs open and bury my face in her sweet pussy. Definitely going to have to erase the video feed.
She lets out a shocked little yelp and grabs the back of my head, fingers digging tight in my hair. I lift her perfect ass, and she wraps her legs around my head as my tongue slides deep, tasting her, and holy hell, she’s already fucking drenched. I lap at her like I’ll never get enough, licking up every drop while she shudders and grinds against my mouth.
She’s so goddamn responsive. Every flick of my tongue, every suck on her clit, makes her moan louder. I flatten my hands on her thighs to hold her open and just feast. She starts to tremble. Her whole body locks up, and I know she’s close, but I’m not about to let her off easy. I pull back and blow a cool breath over her drenched folds. She almost sobs.
“Please,” she whispers, low and desperate. Fucking hell. That word nearly unmans me. I fucking love her like this. Wild. Needy. All for me. Then someone pounds on the break room door.
Shit. I jerk upright as Dee’s face goes full cartoon panic. She yanks her jeans up so fast she almost falls over. Her bra’s hanging out of the side of her tank, and she’s got my handprint on her hip. Fuck me. I’m tempted to just ignore the knock and get back to pleasuring my woman.
I wipe my mouth with my handkerchief and try to get my shit together. Dee’s cheeks are flaming red, but she squares her chin like she can bluff her way out of murder.
I unlock the door to find Nathan staring at me with a knowing look.
He takes one look at us and smirks. “About fucking time. Please delete the security feed before you give Rafe a fucking heart attack.”
“I’ll take care of it.” I definitely don’t want the evening security guard to see that feed. Or for it to end up on the internet.
The next hour is torture. I erase the last several hours of security feed, answer emails I don’t care about, and sign off on schedules. But it’s all pointless because, every five seconds, my mind strays back to her. And why I waited so fucking long to make her mine.
Later that evening, I finish my last circuit and end up at the bar. Dee is pouring a vodka cranberry for a regular, her hands steady even as her eyes flick to me. She nods, barely a movement, but it lands like a punch.
“Need something, Tigger?” she says. Her voice is light, teasing, but the way she rolls the nickname makes it sound like a dare. It turns me on. Full stop.