Page 65 of The Boss Upstairs
I explore myself, and every now and then I open my eyes to find him watching me with dark eyes. I reach down below and slide a finger along my wetness.
“Damn,” he breathes. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
“Hmmm,” I rub my clit, and it feelssogood. “Mr. Hanson never uses foul language.”
“He does when he’s hard.”
I close my eyes and imagine him inside me. I pick up the tempo, writhing against the cool crisp sheets. I moan softly as I feel myself climbing. I know he’s still watching me, and I don’t open my eyes as I finally reach my climax. Soft moans and cries fill the room, and I get completely lost in the moment. I can’t even remember the last time I let go like this. I feel it in every inch of my body.
I’m numb and completely spent when I finally open my eyes. He’s still watching me, and he wears the most delicious smile. “Wow,” he says. “You were absolutely beautiful. This was definitely the best five minutes of my day… my week… possibly my year.”
“Even better than the spanking?” I joke.
“Yes.” He bounces off the bed. “I need a shower.”
I laugh as I watch him go. He’s still fully dressed, and a part of me wants to chase him into the washroom and watch him undress.
But I respect his privacy.
And I let him do his thing.
I pull my thong back up, and peel myself out of his comfy bed. I attempt to make the bed again as it was, but fail miserably. I scurry to the closet and fetch my clothes. I hastily put my bra back on, my blouse and skirt. I run over to the bed and slip my pumps back on. I check myself in the mirror and pat my hair down.
There. Good. Surprisingly, I look exactly like I did before I entered his room.
My heart is still hammering as I walk slowly down the hall. When I pass Rosetta’s desk, I throw her a quick smile, attempting to look casual. She eyes me dubiously.
I settle back at my desk, and fire up my current project, business card designs.
Rosetta eyes me with a raised brow. Whatever she was in the middle of doing has been put on the back burner. “Come over here, Honey.”
I bite my lip. Crap.
“I can’t exactly get up easily,” she points out.
I reluctantly rise from my desk and head over to hers.
Her gaze darts over me, down my body and up again. “What are you up to?”
“What? Nothing,” I say, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about?”
Her brow is still raised, a perfect upside down V. “I think you knowexactlywhat I’m talking about.”
“No… I don’t,” I insist.
“You and Boss Man are sticking the banana in the Sundae.”
My jaw drops to the floor. “We are… not.” Technically, we aren’t. I’m not lying.
“Well, you all are definitely doing something. A little afternoon delight?”
“No!”
She smiles wide. “I think you are.”
“We’re not!” I argue.
“Okay… he might not be buttering your biscuit just yet, but something is definitely going on.”
