Page 60 of Nothing to You
“You found your rhythm quick enough,” she murmured, their lips still touching.“Work on limiting your resistance.”
“I’ll do better next time, Coach.”
His tongue touched her lip, and she opened for him.They could spend the whole day screwing on his desk, could get up and leave the building right then to disappear into bed.
Pulling away, she slapped a hand onto his arm.“Okay, time to go back to work.”
“I’ll talk to your boss,” he said, pushing her back on the desk when she tried to slip off.“Guy’s an asshole, but he owes me one.”
“And I do not want every person on this floor to think you last longer than you do.My pussy is plenty tight for you to spill quick.”
“Yep,” he said, dropping into his seat when she slunk off the desk.“She got hers too.”
His fingers met her clit.She slapped the hand away and crouched to retrieve her shoes.“If she didn’t get hers every time, we wouldn’t come back for seconds.”
“And thirds and fourths.”
This time he touched her inner thigh and again she swiped his hand away.“You’re supposed to start with the fingers, Boy Scout.Not finish with them.”
“Who said I was done?”Catching her hips, he pulled her between him and the desk.“Man, you didn’t even lose the panties.”
“You know this is sexual harassment.”
He kissed her hip, her thigh, her abdomen.“I have witnesses you were the aggressor.”
“Mm,” she said, grabbing a handful of his hair to yank his head back.“Don’t ever pout with me again.”
“Don’t hide shit from me.”
Dipping to kiss his forehead, she smoothed his hair again.“This wasn’t makeup sex.”
“No, who wants to make up?”he said, finally letting her go.
“It’s better when we’re fighting.”
“It is.”
Slipping on one shoe and then the other, she got her shirt and his tie from the floor.She tossed one to him and fed her arms into the other.
“And it doesn’t mean I like you.”
“Fuck no,” he said, looping his tie over his head, despite his shirt still being open.“I can’t stand you.”
“You want me to send your worker bees back in here?”
“Oh, I think they’re long gone, Babycakes.”
“I want sushi for dinner.”
Wearing a grin, he winked, and she departed.The walls went clear, and her own lips curled.If that wasn’t making up, she didn’t know what would be.Fuck.Hotshot was way more than she could ever have expected.
TWENTY
“YOU SAY YOU want sushi and then don’t turn up for dinner,” Rourke said, striding into her apartment like he had every right.
Like she did at his.
“You took my car away.”
