Page 2 of Older Hotter Grumpier
I slide my phone discreetly from my pocket, stealthy, though unscheduled interruptions to Mr Blackwood’s whole top floor office are far fewer now.
Mr Blackwood doesn’t like being disturbed, even I can see that. Yes, he’s totally capable of snarling at visitors himself—talented at it in fact—but people are constantly trying to get Mr Blackwood’s time, money, or attention.
My gamble was that he didn’t like having to growl in person. So however insistent, bulky, loaded with firearms under their neat suits, or irritated at the short blonde girl guarding her boss a caller is, unless they have an appointment, they can leave a message or send an email.
I deliver all this with a charming smile, of course.
And it has made it peaceful on the top floor. Just me and him.
Balancing my phone on the bottom of my computer screen, I flick my gaze to the elevator. My desk is in a light-filled entrance that leads to Mr Blackwood’s office. I’m the dragon in a dress who guards my boss. Keeper of his diary, provider of his tea, listener of his grumps.
But my role means anyone might walk into my workplace at any moment. No need to knock. And it would be the worst to be caught reading—especially something this spicy—on work time.
I angle my body and the phone so I’m facing the elevator, my back to Mr Blackwood’s door. That’s safe, since he’s out. And then with shaking hands, I open the eBook app.
As I read, a grin creeps across my face.
Oh this is perfect. They’re stuck in a cave, waiting out a sandstorm that is protecting them from the bad guys who are after her, because human women who can be bred are so unusual. The tension is extreme. He makes a comment about how she thinks she’s too good for an alien king like him, and she goes to disagree, then in the dark, they find each other. The hero kisses the heroine and—this is my favourite trope—is telling her she’s pretty. That he wants to breed her so badly. That he can’t wait to fill her up with his seed.
Between my legs is liquid heat as I read. Why do none of the men I date say things like this? Maybe if they did, I wouldn’t still be a virgin.
Oh right. I forgot.
I don’t date.
Who needs dating when you have blue alien book boyfriends to say, “You’re going to take my big cock so well”?
I press my thighs together in a vain attempt to get the pressure I so desperately want on my clit.
In the book, he’s lifting her onto his lap and telling her she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
I’m ridiculously turned on. I’m squirming. I need…
As I keep reading, the beat between my legs thrums harder, demanding. I’m so wet. It wouldn’t take long to come when I’m this horny. It would be almost instant.
Glancing up, I bite my lip.
Dare I?
Really?
I’d be in so much trouble if I got caught. But I would hear the elevator clunk to a stop before the doors opened and anyone could see into my foyer office. I’d be able to whip my phone down and be typing productively in seconds.
I creep my hand into my lap.
The desk is massive and solid wood. No one can see what I’m doing from the elevator side.
And although I tell myself it’s safe, I admit, it feels the hottest sort of naughty to slowly drag the hem of my dress up and slip my fingers underneath. The taboo is making this far sexier than any workplace should be. My knickers are soaked. That book is very steamy, and as my fingertips brush the fabric, I bite back a moan. I’m utterly on edge.
I know I’m about to come hard.
I push the cotton aside and sparks shower my body as I touch my clit. I moan.
“Miss Button.”
My head snaps around, my hand flies out from my knickers, and my heart tries to throw itself out of my mouth.
My boss is standingbehindme.Watching.
