Page 66 of Sins of the Father

“Me.”

I prop my elbow up and rest my head on my palm. “No wonder why you’re so stressed.”

“When did I say I’m stressed?”

I glance at the clock. It’s only ten thirty. I sit up. “Scoot down a bit.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Scoot.”

He slides down the bed, and I wedge myself between him and the headboard so his head rests on my lap.

He grins and runs his hands on my thighs, and I shiver again. “Are you my human pillow?”

“Hush,” I demand. I lean over him, and my hair frames his face. “I’m going to de-stress you.”

“Think you already did that.”

I peck him, but his fingers slide into my hair, and he deepens our kiss.

Breathlessly, I end the kiss and straighten up. “Relax.” His broad shoulders are almost double the width of my body and bronze from the summer sun. I trace the top of his shoulder and then dig into his muscles, working out several knots.

“Can you come to my office and do this at noon every day?” he mumbles with his eyes closed.

I lean into his ear. “If I come to your office, it’s not to give you a shoulder massage.”

“Office sex is too risky.”

“Hmmm...is it? Don’t you have your own office?”

“I do.”

“Are there glass walls?”

“No. It’s private.”

I dig into a knot and keep my thumb pressed on it. I lean into his ear. “I think you work too hard, and I should alleviate your stress this week.”

He groans and runs his hands down my shins then back up my calves. “Your legs are the sexiest ones I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Heat annihilates me again, and I kiss the top of his shoulder.

“There’s this thing about you I don’t understand, Harper.”

I freeze. “What?”

He quickly flips. “What is it about you that makes me rethink my logic?” His face is next to my sex. It’s open and bare, and he stares at it, his blue eyes darkening with heat. “I’m tempted to go into work late tomorrow so I can listen to you beg me some more.”

I inhale sharply and slide my fingers in his thick hair.

He moves his eyes but not his head, catching my gaze for a brief moment, and mumbling, “Total lack of responsibility.” He moves his mouth to my pussy, tugging my clit in his lips, then pulling away to momentarily study it some more. Several times, he repeats it, until I’m so wet and on fire, I’m gripping his head, pushing it into my body, and crying out his name.

He slides his hands under my thighs and pushes me as close to the headboard as possible while crawling on his knees closer. The wood is hard and cool against the heat of my skin. The warmth of his tongue and breath creates fire in all my veins.

And I beg. Loud and unhinged, I whimper and cry out for him to release me.

He grunts and digs his fingers into my ass cheeks, keeping me so close to flying but not letting me.

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