Page 66 of Nothing to Win

“Not my meeting, the guy out there looking for clean slacks.”

“I don’t like waste.”

“Who does?”she asked.Yeah, he was still angry, his face scrunched in a frown, yet she didn’t consider shrinking.“What did he do?”

“Wasted my time.”

“I do that on a regular basis.”Her smile wasn’t enough to move him, so she got up to go over there and curl both hands around his tie.“Why are you grumpy, baby?”

“I have work to do.”

“Yes, you do.”She didn’t let go, even when he shifted.“You’ll do it better if you’re happy.”Still holding his tie, she rested against him.“Want me to make you happy, Mister?”Tightening her hold, she walked backward, eyes on his even as she slid up to sit on his desk.“You’re too stressed.”

“You left our bed before your coffee this morning.”

Which he usually brought to her in their sheets.

“Business calls come first.”

“Nothing else comes first.You stay in bed until you get permission to leave.”

Coffee had been waiting on her vanity when she got out of the shower.How it got there, she didn’t know.Brogan, God love him, had high expectations even of himself.And he didn’t like to fail.He hadn’t.It hadn’t even occurred to her until she met this scowl of his.

“Then I let you down.”The flirtation in her smile seemed to relax his frown a little, just a little.“Will you give me the chance to apologize?”Her hands descended slow, slipping off his tie to loosen his belt.“On my knees.”

“Not a chance.”He grabbed her knees and forced them apart hard, wide apart.“You submit right here.”

When he lunged down to scoop her head aside with his, gentle suction grew stronger on her neck until a dart of pain quaked.They were in his office, with the windows—they went black.Dyce glass.She’d heard tell.

With their privacy, she sagged, clinging to him, boneless in need of his strong forearm as it hooked around her waist to angle her back.

“You want it, baby?”

“I want it.”He shunted her to the blunt edge of the desk, grinding himself against her pussy.“Please.I want it.Mister… Right here.Do it right here.”

Breath flowed and stalled, the sweet trail of his possessive hands explored over her clothes, and under where they could finagle.

She wanted their bed, their privacy, their sweet illusion of bliss.In the moment, there was no illusion.Her whine of submerging desire signaled their completion in each other when he filled her up.

Brogan Spurn.How could he be the one to clench her guts.Electrified and grateful, she needed to hang, needed to give him the time to—

“Mister,” she said, a burn in her throat.

Leaning back, holding herself against his steadying arm, her hips rose and fell as he pounded into her until a hiss of his own impatience razed the humid air.

Biting her lip, she growled, internalizing as much of the desire as possible.His staff were out there.His assistant just a pane of glass away.

“Brogan,” she yapped in climax.“Bro—Mister… Ah…”

He thrust through her orgasm and kept going until right at the cusp of an aftershock, a bolt of his ownership filled her with the glory of his summit.

Panting, he stayed in her.

She reached up to brush his hair from his temple.“How did I do?”she asked, rolling her smiling lips around her teeth.“Happier?”

God, she’d never felt so amazing.Never.

Leaning over, he pressed a button on his phone.“Jenna,” he said after a quick beep, zipping his pants.“Tell the boy he can stay.”