Today, though, the daydreams are unusually persistent.
Which pisses me off.
Hell, it’s time for lunch, and I’ve earned a break.
I know exactly where to go…and what I’ll find there.
Chapter Seven
Addison’s office is locked, which is odd, but no matter. I’ve got today’s New York Times, and I’ll wait. I lean comfortably against the wall and peruse the headlines.
And then I see her.
Skye Manning.
She walks toward me, her hair bound in a ponytail again, her clothing similar to what she wore yesterday. Skinny jeans, but this time black sandals instead of pumps, a pink button-up blouse, and a navy blazer. The blouse is like a second skin, and those tits…
Damn.
She approaches me and clears her throat.
I lower my paper, and my lips twitch slightly, seemingly on their own.
“May I help you?” she asks.
“Sure. You can open the door.”
She quickly retrieves the key from her purse and unlocks the office. “Addie’s not here.”
“Good,” I say.
She opens the door, walks in, and sets her purse on her desk. She takes out her phone quickly and checks something, her ass looking delectable in denim.
My heart is racing, but I’m determined to play it cool. Just her presence affects me in a way that’s totally foreign to me. I affect her, too. I saw it in her eyes zeroing in on my lips before she scurried to her desk.
One of us must make the first move or we’ll both end up wanting…and though I’d love for it to be Skye, already I know it won’t be.
“Skye,” I say.
She turns. “Why are you here?”
I stalk toward her. “For this.”
Without so much as a thought, I grab her and kiss her. Hard. She gasps, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth, exploring at first but then taking. Another raw kiss, and she pushes her breasts into me, moves her hips.
I groan into her mouth.
And I’m lost. Lost in Skye, and all we’ve done so far is kiss.
My body’s on fire, and I push into her, letting her feel my erect cock against her belly. I’m ready. So ready to touch every part of her, bind her and spank her, fuck her hard. Fuck her fast.
And then fuck her slowly, savoring every minute.
She grabs my head and threads her fingers through my hair, pulls me toward her, and explores me as I explore her, our tongues locked in a sword fight, our lips sliding against each other. Nothing matters. Nothing except this amazing kiss.
Until I break away.
If I don’t, I won’t be able to stop. And I doubt she will be, either.