Page 93 of On One Condition

Christ.

That yellow sundress.

Those sexy lips.

Her body rubbing up against mine.

Her praise.

I glance at the clock, and then reach back and grab the phone off my desk while Asher’s hands are still on my hips.

“Yes, Mr. Sharpe?”

“Hey, Bernie. Are there any protesters at the front gates?” I ask, counting on the fact that he’ll give me the rundown like normal.

“Right now? None, sir. According to my log, you and a . . . Miss Wells, are the only ones left on the premises.”

“Great. Thanks. I wasn’t aware. I guess we’ve been so wrapped up in our discussion that I lost track of time.”

“It must be serious.”

“It is.” I glance at Asher. It’s about to be real serious. “Can you inform me if anyone else arrives?”

“Are you expecting someone in particular?”

“Not at this time, but you never know.”

“Agreed. Not a problem, sir.”

And if Bernie has any inkling that I’m asking to be alone so I can fuck Asher on my desk, he doesn’t let on. But he’s a smart man. I wouldn’t put it past him.

I hang up the phone and when I turn to Asher, she has one eyebrow raised and a mischievous smile on her lips.

“Can you inform me if anyone else arrives?” she asks coyly, running a fingernail down the middle of my chest. “Why is that, Mr. Sharpe? Do you have plans?”

My lips are on hers in a second, my hands sliding up the bare skin of her thighs to grab her ass beneath her dress. “I have a lot of plans.”

“Is that so?” she asks between kisses.

“Fucking you on the desk.” I nip her lip. “You riding me in the chair.” I delve my tongue between her lips. “So many fucking plans.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Sharpe.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Asher

On one condition.

When he said those words today it was like being back on that moonlit night when the world seemed right and life seemed fair.

He remembered it too.

What he said.

The moment we shared between us.

But there was something else that glanced through his eyes. Uncertainty? Confusion? I’m just not sure.