Page 102 of Burn

“Oh.” My father steps back. He’s a total germ-phobic. I bet he even carries a bottle of hand sanitizer in his suit pockets. “I have to take this.”

And then he’s out of my office and I lock the door behind him. I rush over to my desk. “Why’d you sneeze? Don’t you know anything about hiding out? You’re not supposed to sneeze.”

“Yeah, well, you need to dust under your desk then.” Caleb removes himself from under my desk, but his expression has changed. Lost in hard eyes is not the man who went under there smiling. “Are you looking for a place to stay now?” I don’t know why he’s asking. He never asks me questions. He’s probably doing it now because of the conversation with my dad.

“I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just move in with Tom. He’s looking for a roommate.” I’m totally teasing because I’m upset with Tom and if I moved in with him, I’d intentionally set his apartment on fire.

I’m joking, but Caleb doesn’t take it that way when he scowls and says, “Fuck that.”

“What?” I ask, stepping between his legs as he leans back into my desk. He grips the edge of the wood.

Caleb leans forward, his breath fanning over my face. “Fuck that,” he repeats. “You’re not moving in with a man.”

Our eyes lock and I don’t want to piss him off. “Okay . . .”

He twists around my desk, sends everything on it to the floor with a swipe of his hand and then grabs me by the waist and places me on the top. “You’re not moving in with him,” he hisses through gritted teeth working on his pants again.

Just when I think this might be like the time in the bathroom, minus the turnout gear and the mask, Caleb wraps his arms around my waist and turns me over so my tits are pressed into my desk. His hand moves to my ass, and then he squeezes my cheek tightly before he slaps it once. Oh yeah, that’s nice.

Though my mind keeps going back to what my dad was saying, Caleb certainly has a way of making me forget everything else around me.

I twist my head to look back at him when he still hasn’t made his move. “What are you waiting for?”

He doesn’t look at me, nor does he answer me. His eyes remain low, on my lower half. Ripping his shirt over his head, he reaches into his back pocket and removes a condom from his wallet. When he has it on, he spreads my legs apart with his a little more, pushing his jeans just past his hips.

When his hands return to me, they’re all man, calloused edges of a roughened firefighter. It’s a harsh comfort being held captive at the hands of this man, rugged and raw.

His hips jerk when I make contact with his cock, my hand sliding over the latex covered muscle straining for attention.

“Fuck, I have to be inside you. Now.” Jerking my face toward his, his mouth finds mine, unable to part from me.

I’m wearing a dress. It makes it really easy for times like this and I’d be lying if I said Caleb hadn’t been influencing my attire these days.

He doesn’t remove my panties, which in a way is way hotter and makes this feel illicit. Let’s face it, it is illicit and fucking hot as hell. Instead, he simply moves them aside as naked parts of him came in contact with the slippery wet parts of me.

Our mouths part, a moan falling from my lips at the loss of connection, only for his mouth to find the back of my neck, wild with heavy kisses as his groans of pleasure pass over my skin. All I can do is remember to breathe and say his name, and when I’m so, so close, I tell him, and his mouth bites down on my shoulder again, muffling his groan as he says, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful when you come on my dick.”

Believe it or not, I’ve never been fucked on a desk. Plenty of counters and tables, and a bar stool once, but never a desk and certainly not in my office. There’s a first time for everything though, right? It seems Caleb’s quickly becoming someone I’ve shared a lot of firsts with.

Desk sex is easier than counter sex. I wouldn’t say it’s hotter because I miss the mask and the way his erratic breathing sounds when he came, but he makes up for it.

He has me pinned to my desk, his hand on the back of my neck keeping it secure against the wood as he slams into me, again and again.

And I come, twice actually, and anyone standing outside my office door can certainly hear me. Caleb isn’t far behind me, somehow positioning one of his knees on my desk to drive into me harder, deeper, until his movements still.

Slumping forward, his hips shudder as he releases inside of me, his mouth biting down on the back of my neck in the process. The sounds of his orgasm fills the room as his cum fills my pussy. Pulse after pulse of hot cum floods my insides, and I can’t get enough of him.

We collapse on top of my desk, and I love the way my breathing is labored with the weight of his chest on my back.

“Mila?” he asks against my neck, his palms flat on my desk as raises up.

“Yeah?”

“Never get rid of this desk.”

SCARLET SLAMS MY office door just before I’m getting ready to leave for the night. “You’re going out with me tonight.”

Not this again. I’m also silently hoping it would have been Caleb returning to fuck me against the windows. The longer I stare at them and think about Nixon’s reaction at the Vance Benefit, the more I want him to know he’s never going to have me.

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