Page 61 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

"Now?" I arch into him, enjoying how his eyes darken. "With actual words?"

"Mac..."

"Tomorrow," I promise, then kiss him again because I can't not. "Everything tomorrow. Tonight just..."

"Just?"

"Just kiss me again."

He does. And for once, I don't think about blogs or corporate culture or anything except how right this feels.

He lifts me effortlessly, turning and walking before he places me on his desk, his lips never leaving mine. The coolsurface of the desk contrasts with the heat of his body as he leans over me, his hands exploring every curve. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the hard length of him press against me.

His mouth trails down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He unbuttons my blouse, the brush of his fingers making my spine angle towards him.

He kisses his way down my chest, his tongue circling my nipple through the lace of my bra. I gasp, my hands gripping his hair, tugging him closer. He unhooks my bra, freeing my breasts, his mouth capturing one pebbled nipple, then the other, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin.

His hands slide down my sides, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my skirt. Sliding it slowly down, his mouth follows the path of the fabric, kissing every inch of skin he exposes. I lift my hips, helping him remove the skirt, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.

I inhale the softly swirling air around us. The inhale becomes a startled gasp, as Alex kneels in front of me, his hands spreading my thighs wide.

His smoldering gaze heats a path up to to my face, and it is all I can do not to combust on the very spot.

"You're so beautiful, Mac.”

The words are gravelly and warm against my inner thigh.

Alex kisses his way up my thigh, his tongue tracing a path to the edge of my lacy underwear. He hooks his fingers into the waistband, tugging them down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I lift my hips, helping him remove the last barrier between us.

He spreads my thighs wide, his fingers tracing the folds of my sex. The second his fingers make contact, I gasp again. The gasp turns into a guttural groan as he leans in, his tongue replacing his fingers, licking and sucking, driving me wild.

I grip the edge of the desk, my body writhing under histouch. He slides a finger into me, his tongue circling my clit, his other hand gripping my hip, holding me in place. I whimper, my body tightening around his finger, my orgasm building.

He adds another finger, his tongue flicking faster, his grip on my hip tightening, and I cry out. My body jolts, rocking and bucking as my orgasm shoots through me like a current. Alex rides out the waves with me, his fingers and tongue never stopping, drawing out every last shudder.

After a second, he stands, his mouth capturing mine, his tongue sharing the taste of my desire. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him close, feeling the heavy shaft of his thick cock pressed against me.

I moan.

"Alex," I bumble out against his lips, my body aching for more. "I need you."

He pulls back, his pine-green irises deepening to the color of dewy moss. "Not here," he says, his voice rough. "Not like this."

I look up at him, confusion and desire warring within me. "What do you mean?"

He cups my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "When I make love to you, Mac, it won't be on a desk in my office with Keith Frampton bitching and moaning outside. To be clear, it’s not the moaning part I’m opposed to. It’s the Keith part.” His eyes pass over me. “I rather enjoy your moans.”

I stare at him, my heart swelling with emotion. "Alex..."

He kisses me gently, his hands helping me off the desk, helping me dress. "Tomorrow," he promises, his voice soft. "Everything tomorrow."

And for once, I don't think about blogs or corporate culture or anything except how right this feels. And how much I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

18

IDENTITY CRISIS

ALEX

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