Page 13 of Baby Daddy Boss

With a smile, I looked down at the citrus-filled fruit cup; she remembered. That was why my chest was warming, and I felt like I could open up to her for a moment.

“My family, back when I was a kid, had several different citrus trees on their property. Of course, the usual lemon and lime, but the oranges and blood oranges were my favorite. I looked forward to the time of the year when I would smell the blossoms opening. Because I knew we were close to the fruit coming on,” I said softly, a strange ache causing my heart to clench.

She looked at me with a pinched brow, “Where are you from?”

I laughed and shook my head, “The place I’m talking about, I wasn’t in for very long. We left when I was around eight, but I think it will always be a place I long for. I’ve not gone back. Greece is still beautiful even in my fragmented memories.

”She smiled something that flirted with the edges of sad sympathy, “I didn’t realize you were originally from out of the country".

Roseline didn’t push for more information and wasn’t nosey when others probably would have been. That was probably why I told her more, things I hadn’t told anyone but my once-upon-a-time wife.“Mm, I’ve been here long enough that I am probably more American than Greek. I don’t think many people back home would welcome me, at least not my extended family. Here I have my mother and brother, though I don’t necessarily feel lonely. Especially with all my research,” I chuckled, brushing off the awkward prickling sensation in my gut.

“I think having a family that cares about you, no matter how little or how big, is a huge gift in this world,” she said slowly, looking down at the paper under her hands. “My family was never quite supportive. Not until they were in trouble and needed my help. My father died before we could reconcile, and my mother ended up coming to find me only after she got diagnosed with cancer and was far enough along that she couldn’t live alone. I left their house as soon as I could, to be honest.”

Silence fell between us as I began to open the small plastic cup holding the orange and grapefruit segments.

“Though I’m not alone, I still have someone in my life who cares,” she said softly. My eyes narrowed as I took in what she said, scooping out a piece of grapefruit to chew on thoughtfully. Did she mean she had a romantic partner? “Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” I asked curiously.

Though I would admit, my curiosity was not benign. I wanted to know, and that part of me had its agenda; I was probing to see how available she was in my way. I wanted to slap myself over the head, but the question was already out there, hanging in the air.

“No,” she said, her vague answer drawing a line that she didn’t want to offer any more explanation. I respected it, pulling back but realizing that her lack of enthusiasm about her relationship status meant she was likely single.

I also ignored how interested I was in that fact. I ignored how happy I was about the assumption.

She had turned back to her papers when she frowned again, pursing her lips, and I nearly laughed because I knew what that look meant.

“Show me,” I said, wiggling my fingers at her. She looked up at me before sighing and standing to make her way around the table. That surprised me. I expected her just to hand it over once again. But instead, she leaned against the table, her thighs right beside my hand and her pencil skirt tight across her soft hips.

I swallowed hard. She had no idea what she did to me. She began to explain to me what she thought the student was trying to say and then leaned over to point out what they had written instead. Her perfume tickled my nose, a light floral scent that had my mouth watering at the thought of how wonderful her skin would taste.

As she moved closer, my fingers splayed, and my pinky brushed against her leg. Roseline’s breath caught, her words stuttering for a moment, but neither of us said anything about how our skin touched. I didn’t mention how my attention had shifted to the tip of my finger, which was still pressed against her silky thigh.

She didn’t do anything but continue to talk with a tiny tremble in her voice. I wanted to push her, like always, push beyond her walls and test that barrier that kept her curtained from me.

I wanted to taste the sinful fruit that was her lips as it muttered words above me about things I couldn’t care less about right now. I needed to focus on the job at hand, yet my hand was moving, and a smirk was turning my lips upward as I tilted my chin to rest it on my knuckles. When my palm lifted to trace over the meat of her thighs, her back straightened as if a steel bar had been shoved into her spine.

I inhaled sharply, biting my lower lip as she stared at me in disbelief, but she didn’t fight it. Instead, her muscles tensed as I caressed them. I leaned into her space this time, my face just inches away from her and my hands boxing her in on either side. She slid back slightly, arching her back to create space between us, a space where our breaths mingled, and the heat grew between our bodies.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Something I’ve wanted to do since the first day,” I murmured, dipping my face until it brushed against her jaw and giving her an experimental kiss on the soft edge.

“Haven’t you thought about it too?”

Her eyes flashed, and I saw her desire to rebuke me; she squirmed, fighting her hunger, but there was also something else, a moment of panic. I pulled back slowly. I didn’t want to push this if she was actually against it.

“I- I have,” she whispered, and I swore I misheard her except that her eyes were cast down to the side, and her cheeks were flushed. “How about we experiment together,” I grinned, dropping another kiss to the dip between her collarbones. “Let’s see how good we can make each other feel.”

She sighed, and her body shivered; her muscles seemed to give out under her, and she laid out on top of the table we’d been working on. The free tendrils of her hair tangled about her in a wild mess of curls, beautiful and feral, just like the look in her pale green eyes. I towered over her, watching how she shifted her thighs wider and her skirt rode up so I could slot myself between them.

“I’m tired of fighting this,” she sighed.

I groaned; the breathiness of her voice went straight to my cock, and my head spun with how quickly my blood moved south. I stretched above her, bracing myself on my forearms until my torso pressed against hers. My fingers lazily traced the edges of her bra strap under her blouse, teasing her shuddering ribs. My fingers slowly flicked open the top few buttons on her shirt, letting the fabric part show her creamy chest underneath and, finally, the beginning swells of her breasts.

I pressed chaste kisses to her cheeks, jaw, lips, and ear, feeling her wriggle beneath me as my hand lightly palmed her chest. She arched beneath me, pressing closer and turning into a beautiful bridge beneath my weight. I turned my lips from face down her smooth neck and then scraped my teeth gently over the curve of her collar bone.

I couldn’t help but smirk as her hands flew to my biceps and squeezed. My tongue flicked out to trace down her sternum until I stopped at the plush spill of flesh from the cups of her bra and pecked soft butterfly kisses over the silken skin. Her fingernails dug into my shirt, and she hissed, “Stop teasing.”

I sighed. Finally, I felt like I could move forward like she finally wanted this as badly as I did, and I wouldn’t have to turn back in the middle of it. I opened the rest of her buttons and pushed her bra out of the way so I could suck one of her nipples and gently pinch the other one until she was writhing beneath me. Her breath came out shallow and fast, and her body seemed unable to stop moving; jolts rushed through her with each calculated roll of my tongue against her skin.

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