Page 74 of Fly Back to Me
“I’m going to be finished soon, and then I’m walking you out.” I brush past her, heading to pick up the cloth I threw earlier.
For some maniacal reason, I expected Olivia to listen to me. But when I hear the pattering of those damn heels again, I’m rising from the floor.
“Hey,” I call out.
She continues to travel to the rear of the brewery. Her luscious waves just bouncing the fuck away while her curves sway through the tight material of her ribbed dress.
She might be a real pain in the ass, but she’s a hot-as-fuck pain in the ass. And damn if I didn’t want to slap my palm to hers right now.
Once for not listening to me.
Twice so I could spank the attitude right out of those pink lips.
And one final time just because I felt like it. She wouldn’t deserve a reason.
“Olivia,” I echo.
She twists around, hiking a thumb over her shoulder harmlessly. “I just need to use the bathroom,” she answers,referring to the employee restroom.
When she resumes her journey, my boots inch across the floor as I glue a suspicious eye on the rear hallway. I walk behind the bar, discarding my dirty rag before rinsing my hands in the sink. My soapy palms weave under the warm water for about ten seconds, and then Olivia’s voice cuts through.
“Where’s your office?”
I rotate the faucet knob to cut the water, then spin with a clean rag in my hands. Olivia’s leaning her shoulder against the reclaimed brick of the hallway arch, fingers toying suggestively with her top button.
My jaw sets, and I avert my gaze as I toss the rag on the bar top. “I’m not fucking you in my office,” I state matter-of-factly. “I’ll make you squeal another time.”
“I just want to show you something,” she insists, her voice just above a whisper. Flecks of gold twinkle in her irises, and she’s crossing one foot in front of the other. A playful smile emerges when she says, “I guess I’ll just have to find it myself.”
And then she disappears.
“Olivia,” I call after her, listening to the distant drumming of her heels until the sound is nonexistent.
My legs move swiftly from behind the bar, curling the corner until I’m walking down the narrow hallway. The office door is half-closed, dim light filtering out of the room before I reach for the knob.
“Alright, let—”
The remaining words jumble in my throat when her black shoe crashes to the floor. Her feet are bare now, her body standing with her back to my desk.
I gulp roughly when I catch her expectant eyes, and her fingers gradually undo the top buttons of her sweater dress. Those gold flakes remain rooted in her green hues, sparkling just like her pouty lips.
There’s lust swirled within her gaze, but it’s manifested by something stronger. Not sexual desire, butyearning. A long-awaited thirst that only I can quench.
Not my body.
Me.
She unfastens the last few buttons, biting her lip when she glides the ribbed fabric off her shoulders. The garment drags down her arms, her chest inflating before the material pools at the back of her feet.
Jesus. Christ.
Sheer and skimpy black lace hugs her perky tits, the lingerie matching the design of her panties. A flame scorches my skin, all blood tunneling to my cock when I peep the black garter bands around her upper thighs.
Her body shifts, palms curling around the edge of the desk behind her. The motion stirs my eyes from its locked position, ascending over her long legs and toned stomach. She’s tall and lean, accented with an hourglass figure that I could beat myself off to every hour of every day.
I’d never be spent enough knowing the inside is just as fucking good.
“Touch me, Cade,” she whispers, her voice starved. “Please.”
