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“Uh-oh,” she said, wary but intrigued. She reached into her bottom file drawer and pulled her purse out. Inside was what looked to be a tube of lipstick, but when she twisted the base, it started to quietly vibrate.

“Found it?”

“Yes,” she said, her heart starting to hammer.

“I thought I’d be the one to call you one day this week and tempt you into some phone play, but lucky me, you called first.”

“Grant, I can’t—”

“Shh, you will because you want to,” he said, his words like a stroke to her skin. “I’m taking a risk, too. My secretary is right outside, and my door isn’t locked.”

She rolled the lipstick tube between her fingers, so tempted, the sound of Grant’s breath in her ears making her sex throb. Fuck it. With one last check over her shoulder, she quickly put her hand beneath her skirt and tucked the vibrator into her panties to hold it in place.

She gasped softly at the sensation, the vibration nestling right against her clit. “You’re a bad, bad man.”

“You love it,” he said. “Now I can picture you there while I stroke my cock. All prim and proper in your little business outfit, your hips rocking ever so slightly to rub your pussy against the vibe, your scent filling that little cubicle. Ah…”

“Jesus.” The dirty talk alone was going to put her over. She pressed her fingers into the edge of her desk, her knuckles going white, as she tried to keep still in her chair. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Mmm, then let go with me. My cock is hard in my hand for you, the tip already slippery.”

She wet her lips, wishing she was there to lick that salty taste off him. Her pussy clenched and she squeezed her thighs together, aligning the vibe to the sweet spot on the side of her clit. Sensation pinged through her, orgasm rushing toward her sharp and fast. “Grant.”

“Ah, fuck yes…” he groaned on the other end, lost in his own release.

She closed her eyes, breathing fast, imagining his come spilling over his fist, and rode the wave of her orgasm. It took everything in her to not make a sound, to not call out his name.

Another flood of moisture coated the vibrator and soaked her panties as the last shudder went through her and she drifted down from the orgasm.

With lightning-fast movement, she pulled the vibrator from her panties, turned it off, and dropped it in her open purse. She clutched the phone to her ear, feeling a bit light-headed. “Whoa.”

There was a click on the phone, and she thought she’d lost him, but then she heard him let out a satisfied sigh. “Ditto. Thanks for that, freckles.”

“Believe me, the pleasure was mine.”

She could feel his grin through the line. “Now get back to work, slacker. I’ll pick you up at six, and I guarantee that won’t be your last orgasm of the day.”

With that, he hung up.

And as she walked to the restroom to get cleaned up, she came to terms with one foundation-rattling fact. She was addicted. Downright, no denying it, addicted. No matter how often she saw Grant, she couldn’t get enough of him.

And that scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

Because this thing had an expiration date. And it was thundering toward them both.

TWENTY-THREE

Charli stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling refreshed after her long walk on the grounds this afternoon. In the heat of the shower, her muscles had loosened, but the remnants of last night’s session with Grant remained. Phone sex had definitely only been the appetizer in his plans yesterday.

She unwrapped her towel and turned her back to the full-length mirror in the bedroom, peering over her shoulder. He’d used a whip on her for the first time. The angry welts had mostly faded, but a few bruises now colored her skin. For some odd reason, seeing those marks made her feel lighter, buoyant. She glanced down at her wrists and rubbed the faint pink rope burns, the brush of pain tightening something low in her belly.

“God, I must be freaking losing it.”r: Roni Loren

She stood, too disgusted to tolerate another second of this conversation. “I’m outta here. The average IQ level of the room has plummeted to prehistoric levels.”

But he hopped off the table, sliding in front of her path. His gaze raked down her new silk blouse and the pencil skirt she’d worn as Grant’s assistant. “I haven’t seen you since your vacation. That’s what you were up to, wasn’t it? Redoing your image? You’re worried you’re going to get passed over again so you’re going for the hot-piece-of-ass angle.”

“Dude,” Steven interrupted. “Shut the fuck up and get out of her way. You’re just being a prick now.”


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic