Page 15 of The German's Guilty Pleasure
I laughed with sarcasm. “No, pretty much every crowd, Lars.”
“In this crowd,” he said, making a circle around us and the building, “we will call it what it is.”
“Which is?”
“Self-pleasuring.”
I pinned him with a stare, but he didn’t break eye contact. Finally, I held up my hands in defeat. “Alright, fine. Why were you using my photos during self-pleasure? But wait. Can you call it self-pleasuring when you’re using the aid?”
“As long as you are alone,” he answered, clearly exasperated.
“That was the answer to the latter. How about the former?”
Honest to God, Lars Jäger rolled his eyes at me. I never expected the CEO of a sex toy company to roll his eyes at me when discussing anything to do with sex.
“If I must spell it out for you, I find you to beder typ.”
“I’m your type? Seriously? Thanks for the laugh, Lars,” I said, chuckling. “That’s smashingly funny right there.”
His hand still held my chin, and his eyes were laser-focused on my lips. “I am not laughing, am I?”
“You’re serious?”
“As serious about this as I am about not letting you call my product a sex toy.”
I managed to hold in the laughter that wanted to spill out. “You are deadly serious about that, I have to say. Still can’t say I feel comfortable with the knowledge you use that app when I’m not there.” I was flustered and not making any sense between his proximity and the wine I’d consumed.
“Would you feel more comfortable if you were there?” His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine. “I could arrange for that. Then I wouldn’t need the app.” I swallowed, and his laughter was filled with naughty victory. “For once, the littleblauer vogelis speechless. Now I know her weakness.”
His words fell away as soon as his lips brushed across mine. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was … contact. His lips were hot, wet, and tasted of wine. I whimpered at the idea that was all I would get, and the sound was the spark to his desire. The second time his lips touched mine, he didn’t brush them across. He planted them firmly and let me taste the sweet wine on his lips. When he forced my lips open with his determined tongue, I tasted the smoky bacon on his. I moaned, and he wrapped his fingers in my hair to tug me closer to him, his wet tongue turning my insides into a bowl of Jell-O.
I was completely inexperienced and I didn’t know what to do, so I followed my instincts. I did what I had wanted to do since the first day in his office. I slid my fingers into his hair and tightened them. The sensation was unlike any other when he had his tongue down my throat. We shared a mutual moan that echoed across the balcony into the dark night. I had never heard of anyone having an orgasm from a kiss, but I was damn close just thinking about what it would feel like to have more than his tongue inside me.
With practiced ease, he let his lips fall away, going back twice for a short peck before he rested his forehead on mine. His intense blue eyes were deep and smoky when he spoke. “I heard your answer in that moan, dear Serenity. You would definitely like to be there,” he whispered before he lowered his lips again.
Seven
Serenity
I stood in the elevator and ran my fingers over my lips. They were still there. I had checked frequently the last two days to be sure Lars hadn’t singed them off with those kisses. Thank God he didn’t know that was my first kiss. How embarrassing would that have been? At least when he kissed me for twenty minutes with his hands wrapped in my hair, his tongue down my throat, and a giant erection in his pants, I knew they weren’t pity kisses. He absolutely wanted to be kissing me. I absolutely turned him on. Not bad for a beginner.
The door chimed its prim and positively perfect ding then slid open to reveal the inner sanctum. Since the kiss, he’d managed to avoid me for the better part of two days. He talked to me only during meetings or in public areas. When he did, his gaze was focused on my lips, which I made sure always wore a coat of shiny gloss. I had to chuckle at how he acted like he was sixteen instead of thirty.
“Serenity!” Lexie called from the copy room, motioning me in.
“Hey, Lexie,” I said, a spring in my step and a happy tone to my voice.
Why, you ask? Wasn’t it obvious? A guy like Lars Jäger had the hots for me! Never, in all my life, did I think that could happen. I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin, and he’s a thirty-year-old CEO of a sensual aid company. Talk about opposites attracting. “How’s your morning?”
“Not so good,” she whispered as soon as I was standing next to her.
“I’m sorry, did something happen?” I noticed the papers she was collating and tipped my head. “Why are you putting together third-quarter financials?”
“She’s going to want to see them.”
“She? She who?” I asked, confused by her fear and anxiety so early in the morning.
“Gretchen Jäger. She arrives tonight. He didn’t tell you?” she whispered in a comical stage whisper.
