Page 3 of My Office Rival

2

JASON

Yes. Cynthia swayed into my body, her hand landing on my chest. The need between us was electric, unexpected, and something about this moment felt imperative. I had to kiss her. Those plush, pink lips had teased me on so many conference calls. That fiery red hair was the perfect texture for weaving around my fingers. I sank my hand into the wild strands now and feathered my lips over hers. She made a needy noise in her throat and kissed me back.Oh fuck.She tasted really fucking good. Her lips parted, and I angled her head just right. Lust was a vise around my body. I wanted to press her back against the wall and slip my hands under her skirt. Would she let me? She looped a hand around my neck and pressed closer.She might.

The elevator dinged, and she pulled back. Her eyes were glassy and her lips slightly swollen.

“Should we go back up?” she asked, and I huffed a laugh.To the bar? Maybe to one of the rooms of the hotel it’s situated above?“I’m serious,” she murmured.Fuck.

“Come home with me,” I said thickly. Damn the consequences. I wanted this feeling.

“Yes,” she breathed, as the doors opened.

We hastened to get into a taxi, and when we were finally ensconced in the dark, I turned toward her. Her eyes were wide under the unruliness of her red curls and I could feel her anxiety. Or maybe it was excitement. I put my hand on her arm. “You can change your mind, you know. If this seems like a bad idea.”

“No way.” She licked her lips, and I swallowed back a groan. How many times had I stared at those lips on video calls? She was sexy as hell, even while she was cutting me down to size.

“Come here and show me then.”

She glanced at the driver, who was two rows up in the giant SUV and certainly couldn’t hear us through the divider. I waited with bated breath, my cock rising in my pants despite myself. She flicked a glance down and raised a brow.

“I said come here,” I growled and grabbed her hips. She let me pull her onto my lap, and I couldn’t help my hoarse gasp as she brushed against my erection. Her skirt was riding up her thighs, and I desperately wanted to grab her, knead her ass, pull her down against me, and grind my cock into her, but I stayed perfectly still, except for the breaths sawing in and out of my chest. The need for her to take control rode me.Keep it under wraps.

“You’re really hot, you know that?” Her eyes drank me in, roaming over today’s messy hair, my rumpled suit, and finally meeting my eyes.

“I could say the same about you.” Something about the curve of her waist, the tilt of her head as she stared at me, the fire in her dark eyes, it made me lose my mind.

“Stop stalling.” I tipped her forward on my lap, and she caught herself against my chest. It was rare for me to bring potential partners home, incredibly rare when I showed them the toys that had caused some of my ex-girlfriends to call me a “freak.” And Cynthia wouldn’t be seeing any of that. Most women I slept with I met on an app, and most of them knew exactly what they were signing up for. That was for sex, nothing more, and never more than once.

“Okay,” she whispered against my mouth and kissed me. The first touch of her lips had me groaning into her mouth. The feel of herslick, little tongue had me picturing what it would feel like on my cock.

Soft noises of appreciation fell from her lips as she skimmed greedy hands over my chest, my shoulders, down over my stomach. She was soft and pliant against me, melting against my chest as she grabbed at my arms for support.

Sharp need spiraled through me. More, I needed more. I wasn’t good at taking it slow, had never been. And she made me wild. Her curves were made for my hands. I smoothed a palm over the full curve of her ass and kneaded into the flesh, bruising her soft skin. She inhaled sharply and threw her head back.

I banded an arm against her back and pulled her down over my erection. She rocked her hips against me, and I groaned. “That feels really fucking good,” I muttered.

I slipped my hands under her sweater, glorying in her soft skin, the weight of her breasts. Strokes along the undersides had her breath catching in her throat. I stilled my hands.

“Keep going,” she breathed.

“Keep quiet,” I responded.

“I didn’t say you could stop.”

I shuddered at her words, going impossibly hard under her. She didn’t seem to notice how much I loved her orders.Keep it easy.

“We’re almost there,” I said, as we neared my street.

I lived in an ancient townhouse uptown, which I loved for its dark corners and maze of rooms. I had the entire top two floors to myself, and I rattled around in there like a hero from an old novel, consuming too many gin martinis and reading the newspaper in hard copy.

A short elevator ride later and I was stumbling into the apartment with her in my arms. We hit the hallway wall, and I broke the kiss to pant out, “Where do you want to go? Bed or couch?”

“Bed.”

I carried her to the bedroom while she tried to push my jacket off my shoulders. She was insatiable. Kissing my neck, spreading her hands over my shoulders, and unbuttoning my shirt for better access.Her eagerness, her fire.She could give me what I need. Some women were content to be submissive, but some, some I could tell, were just a door waiting to be opened, a fire waiting to spark.She might be one of those.

We fell onto the bed and I paused, holding myself over her. Her eyes flew open and pure lust swirled in the deep brown depths. I sucked in a breath.