Page 29 of Cross-Checked

The need to claim this woman, to take control of her body and make it submit to me, outweighs everything else. I think this whole building could go up in flames and I’d stay right here, appreciating the way her body responds to mine.

And then, as if the universe wants to prove me wrong, the wail of a baby cuts through the sounds of pleasure, and we both freeze.

Fuck. Another loud wail, and I turn toward the door, determined to get there before Colleen opens the door to find our boss with her tits out, legs spread, and pussy on display.

I zip and button my pants on the way, then cast a quick glance at AJ over my shoulder as Abby really lets loose, one angry scream after another just as I reach the door. But AJ isn’t looking at me anymore; she’s too busy getting her bra straightened out and trying to pull her sweater back on.

Slipping out the door and shutting it behind me, my pulse pounding in my ears, I find Colleen bringing Abby up to her shoulder. “Pew, kiddo. I’d be crying too if I just did a stinky in my diaper like this,” she says, bouncing lightly on her feet as she pats Abby on the back.

“Sorry about that.” She spins in surprise, not even realizing I’d come out of the office behind her. “Here,” I say, reaching out my hands for my daughter, “I’ll take her.”

“You’re already done with your meeting?” she asks, eyebrows dipping in surprise.

“We’re done for now.”

And as I take Abby, holding her to me with one arm while I use the other to steer the stroller to the nearest bathroom, hoping there’s a changing table in there, I can’t stop the thought ringing in my head:Holy shit, what did we just do?

I kissed my boss. She definitely kissed me back. Clothes were shed. Her tits were in my hands, her nipple in my mouth, and her clit throbbing under my thumb. My cock was hot and hard in her hand.

How do we ever come back from that?

Chapter Thirteen

AJ

Iopen the door to my office, my legs still shaky and my heart still pounding in my throat, and expect to see him there with Abby. Instead, Colleen is sitting at her desk in the empty waiting area.

“Where’d McCabe go?” I ask, startling her as I come up behind her.

Did he really just have me half-naked on my desk, about to come, and then run away like a scared little boy?

“Abby had a dirty diaper, so I think he went to change it?”

And he couldn’t have done that in my office?

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t know,” Colleen says. “He said your meeting was ‘done for now.’ Do you need me to get him back here for you?”

“No...” I try to think of something that doesn’t sound suspicious, because she does not need to know that I’m about to chase him down and demand we talk about what the hell just happened, and why it can never happen again. “I just thought of something else I need to tell him, though. Which way did he go?”

She points to her left. “I think he was probably headed to the bathroom to change her?”

“Thanks.” I’m so busy trying to ignore the pit in my belly as I rush down the hall that I don’t even have time to prepare what I want to say before I’m already at the men’s bathroom. Perils of walking so fast, I guess.

Without giving myself time to think about what I’m doing, or whether it’s a good idea to go chasing after him, I’m knocking twice and pushing the door open. He’s standing at the wall of sinks with Abby’s changing pad spread out on the counter and her tiny feet captured in the air in one of his huge hands.

“God, that smells terrible,” I say as my head rears back. I’m honestly shocked that someone so tiny could create such an awful stench.

“Yeah, changing diapers is not the best part of parenthood. Especially once they start eating real food, and not just formula.”

I cross one ankle over the other and my arms under my chest as I lean up against the wall, trying to look more composed than I feel while I watch him attempting to wrestle a diaper on his squirming baby.

“You realize this is the men’s restroom, right?” he asks when I stand there staring at him long enough that he feels like he needs to say something.

I swallow down the nerves. “What just happened in my office—” I start, but he’s speaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I should never have done that.” He glances at me in the mirror, his cheeks growing pink, before looking down at the diaper he’s wrangling on.

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