Page 17 of Unmoored: How to Fail at Hating the Boss

Once my shorts are loose, his big hand warms my lower belly, an area of my body I normally don’t care to be noticed. He caresses that soft, untouched skin, just above the elastic of my panties, his rough thumb sweeping over my navel. My hands, meanwhile, roam over his shoulders, wishing he was naked. Wishing he was all mine to touch and kiss and bite. To take it all and make him finish.

But he seems to be acting on principle. A personal rule. One thing I know about Reef is he follows rules to the letter, even ones he made up himself.

So, me first.

That stroking hand spans my stomach, then moves to the side, hitching up the hem of my shirt. “You good with this?”

I could scream, but I whisper, “Yes…yes, Reef,” bending one leg up to let my thigh rub up against him, catching his loosened shorts in the process.

“Lift up for me.”

I follow his instructions, giving in to the moment, giving him the ability to ease my shorts and panties down just enough. He cups my pussy and I gasp at the sensation that ripples through my belly and rushes to already aching nipples.

Reef caresses me between my legs, and I have to fight against everything my body wants to do to make him hurry up.

My brain and my heart tell my body to slow down and savor this moment. Because it’s been years—literally years—since the last time anyone touched me. And since then I’ve trained my body to reach orgasm quickly and efficiently with a number of handy little toys. Just getting that need taken care of.

Reef isn’t about to suffer my need for speed.

He shifts around and is somehow, impossibly, completely over me, resting some, but not all, of his weight against me. I could easily push him off if I change my mind. But I won’t. There’s less than a negative one-million chance of that.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” he murmurs, once again licking into my mouth, making me stir with emotion at his words. Sweetheart, he said. That feels good. In the moment. But if I were his sweetheart…

No, don’t go there.

“God, I can’t wait to have to spread out naked in bed so I can taste all of you.”

As he says this, he slips a finger inside.

The picture he’s painted, along with the insistent strokes of his middle finger, has me gushing. Fucking gushing.

Reef is making a mess of me, now adding a second finger as his thumb finds my clit.

I curse, and my hips roll upward. I can’t even find the words.

“Oh…oh my god…”

My words are lost in his heated kiss as his hands work me over, one all up in my pussy and the other cupping my breast. His thumb rubs over the aching tip through the soft fabric of my bra.

I feel so seen and naked, yet not naked enough. I want to climb all over him, and I find this car frustrating as one leg is pinned between Reef’s hip and the console, and the other one bumps the door handle.

Frustrated yet suddenly rocketing to completion because Reef, the steady and determined and methodical Reef, has found a way.

I cry out, really loudly, my back arching upward as my orgasm cracks through me.

His breath is hot against my neck as the spasms overtake me.

It’s so good. He is so good.

What the fuck is he going to do to me once he has me in a bed? Lights on, clothes off, legs happily spread wide?

The thought sends one more shudder through me.

His big body shifts once more, and the light from the security lamp seeps through the fogged-up windows. Gently, slowly, he pulls me up and rights the passenger seat. Sweetly, he smooths my hair and kisses my chin, my jaw, my neck as I catch my breath.

“That was…”

Forget it. No words.