Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“No, but I can heard the creak of the leather.”
“So I’m not allowed to sit in your chair?” In an act of unseen defiance, I kick up my legs, placing my heels on the edge of his desk.
“Only if you promise to get the seat wet.”
“That also comes under office shenanigans.” Closing my eyes, I let the thought possess me for a beat. It’s hardly the first time I’ve imagined him bending me over his desk, only now I have a lot more to work with. I know how my name sounds groaned from his tongue, and I’m intimately acquainted with the hum of his body as he comes. I know how deliriously happy it makes me when he stiffens above me, his body shaking as though he hasn’t another ounce to give. I know how it feels to have him inside me. Oh yes. I’m intimately acquainted with Whit’s sexual voodoo.
“Live a little,” he chides. “How many times will you get to say you got yourself off in the boss’s chair?”
“If it’s up to you, probably plenty.”
His laughter is as dirty as a drain. “Seriously, though. I’m about to head back into a meeting. You must have something a little sweet to share with me. I won’t even ask you to choose your weapon.” His words trail off as the penny drops.
“You can’t mean—”
“Just use your hand for me.”
“Why don’t you just use your imagination,” I retort.
“You mean like you did when watched me in the bathroom, fucking my own fist?”
The images his words paint, the fragments of memory rising like steam. “It’s not even as if I’ll get to watch. I’ll just get to enjoy a little audio.”
“I am not masturbating in your office.” I’m not. Then why is my hand inching toward the hem of my dress?
“Start slow. Just loosen a couple of buttons on your dress. Maybe two at the top and two at the bottom.”
“I should’ve known you were up to no good this morning when you suggested I wear this.”
“When I said your tits looked wonderful, you mean? You could wear a rice sack and still look totally fuckable. Just a taste, darling. I bet the door is closed.”
“Be reasonable, Whit.” But there’s little contest in my tone.
“Let me hear those sweet moans. I’ll talk, you just listen. And play.”
“I could just pretend,” I retort in a last-minute half-assed attempt. I don’t know why I’m fighting him.
“Open your legs for me, Amelia.” He uses that tone, causing a shiver to roll down my spine. “Open your legs and take your fingers for me like a good girl.”
“This is madness,” I whisper, lifting my heels to slide my legs farther apart.
“Don’t fight it. Slide your hand inside your underwear. Are you wet?”
“Of course I’m wet,” I mutter as though I’ve been given a chore, but I’m still doing it.
“It was a rhetorical question, my love. I know you’re always so ready for me. Slide your fingers farther down. Feel how soft you are. How wet. Slide them inside, Amelia. Feel yourself pulse around them.”
“Whit stop,” I beg a little breathlessly. “I can’t, not here. Not in the office.”
“I know you want me to bend you over my desk. You’re a good girl who loves to be made to be bad. Be bad for me, Amelia. Slide those fingers into your pretty little cunt.” His words slide into a groan and everything inside me pulls tight at the sound.
“Are you…” Do I dare? “Are you touching yourself?”
“I’m at the far end of a room full of people, but all I can think about is you.”
I both love and hate that I can’t resist him as I drive my fingers hard inside. I gasp, my body bowing from the chair, making the forgotten vibrator slip to the floor.
“What was that?”
“I dropped something.” My heart hammers in my chest, the throb of it echoing between my legs.
“Better pick it up, little girl. Now,” he adds when I don’t answer. “Then slip off your knickers.”
Knickers. The name sounds so ridiculous, but I can’t help how delicious it feels growled against my skin. “Maybe I’m not wearing any.”
“You’d better be,” he says, the warning clear in his tone. “Especially as I watched you slide them on this morning.”
“Maybe I couldn’t wait for you to be bad. Maybe I started without you.”
“Fuck.” The hard fricative is all frustration. “Just wait until I get my hands on you.”
Pressing my palm against my clit, I moan. “Sounds like, for now, I’m just gonna have to use my own.”
But then the door opens and there Whit stands, looking like a cat that’s about to play with a juicy mouse.
Whit
As I wrap my fingers around the handle of my office door and push, the muscles in my chest and shoulders taut. There’s every possibility Mimi will be doing something other than what I’m imagining, like scanning her socials while pretending to indulge me. But then she wouldn’t be the most perfect girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with her, and I wasn’t lying. On a technicality only. I’d already fallen for her at the point I’d said that. Fallen hook, line, and painful sinker. I can’t think what comes after this. How things will work out beyond her six-month mark. I only know that I have to be with her—to try to make her see there is a chance for us. That love is worthy of that chance. The details, the who will live where and how we’ll navigate the obstacles, can come later. Even if it means bailing on more meetings and blowing up Doreen’s house.