Page 42 of Child of Mine

I want to inhale her, feel every inch of her, but I take what I can. My hands rove over the swell of her hips and ass, then find their way under her skirt. She’s sucking on my lower lip when my thumb sneaks under her soaking wet panties. One quick swipe and she’s bucking against me, her chest arching into mine, her teeth biting back a moan so sweet and soft I want to—

The slam of a door freezes us both mid-dry-hump.

“Fuck. What the fucking fuck just happened?” Bella hisses, pushing away from me and pulling her skirt down.

Luckily, the door slam was down the hall, and I have time to whisper an unapologetic “Sorry” before the handle of the editing suite clicks.

“Did I leave my lunch in here?” Sam asks. “Oh, yeah. There it is.”

The look Bella shoots me is so angry, so hot—soaroused—that I know I have to finish what I started. And my patience is quickly running out.

* * *

BELLA

In the restroom I press a damp paper towel against my flushed face like a goddamn Blanche Dubois. This man turns me on in a way that I honestly have no idea how to turn off.

I still haven’t figured out how to worm out of the edit with Henry when Keeley and Laura burst into the bathroom, giggling.

When they see me, Laura covers her mouth. “Oops, sorry!”

“What’s so funny?” I ask, eager for a distraction, but

the young women shoot each other a hesitant look. “Listen, I’m not your boss and I’m not your mother. And I may be older than you, but I still have a sense of humor.”

“Okay,” Keeley says, pausing to scope out the bathroom.

“No one else is in here,” I reassure her.

“We were just trying to decide if Henry would be hotter without the beard,” Laura says, her pale cheeks pinking up.

My cheeks flame as a slideshow flashes through my mind in Sensurround. The tickle of that beard along my neck, across a naked breast, on the inside of my thigh.

“I like the beard,” Keeley says.

“I don’t hate it,” says Laura. “But I think a Don Johnson five-o’clock shadow would be even better. There could be a dimple under there.”

“Either way, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.” Keeley sighs.

“Too bad he’s off-limits,” Laura says.

“What do you mean?” I choke out. “Off-limits?”

Is he married?Izzy yelps.

Who cares?Quinn chimes in.This debate is fascinating.

“Well,” Laura says, fussing with her hair. “I mean, you can’t have a thing with someone at work.”

“Totally inappropriate,” Keeley agrees.

“Plus, he’s old. No offense,” Laura adds.

“None taken,” I say, probably too brightly.

“I gotta pee,” Keeley says, and both girls go into the stalls.

I use the opportunity to exit, but then I remember that I still have to face the man. I’m no longer hungry, but I go to the kitchen anyway and force down my peanut butter sandwich. The clock ticking away on the wall goads me.

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