PROLOGUE
NOVA
JUNE
My bare shoulder blade presses into the cool glass of the window as he pins me against it with his broad frame. A sharp inhale pulls his mouth from mine, and I tip my head to let the heat of his desperate kisses trail down my neck—the short hairs on his jaw scratch along my skin as he moves.
The only thought I have on a loop is:
You’ve lost your goddamn mind.
But losing my mind in the sexy stranger is exactly what I need.
This secret. This hidden act is mine. Only mine.
I’m in control here.
He slips his knee between my legs, holding me to the door of his office, and I let him keep me there as I melt into the rich, spicy scent of his skin.
“What is happening right now?” He rasps against my jaw, finding my mouth again before I can answer him. His thick, firm hands slip up my shirt and under my bra, and I moan into his kiss as he pinches my nipple. The electric energy moves through my body, finally achieving what I was searching for since the moment I asked the man who fixed my van to see if he could get my engine running again, too.
The rush of excitement jolts through my body, and I shove him away. He stumbles, panting behind broad shoulders and a strong jaw. His brown eyes are hazy but confused. Unsure why I disconnected him from me so abruptly.
Foreign desire pools through my body, crashing against forgotten parts of me, hitting me like a cold ocean wave.
“Are you okay?” He asks with no understanding of the depth of his question. Of the severity of his question. He has no idea he’s the only person inwho fucking knowshow long who’s bothered to ask me this question. It surges my attraction to him, and I take the coveralls he’s wearing and grab for the zipper. He does nothing as I slowly unveil him and every sweat touched, glistening cut of his stupid fucking gorgeous body. I unwrap him like a gift. An edible gift meant to be devoured in mere moments, so I savour its beauty before I taste it.
“Who are you?” He asks, shaking the coveralls from his shoulders, and I run my hands over his bare arms, tracing a finger down the line of his bicep.
“It doesn’t matter,” I respond, stretching to my toes to press my lips to his. “No talking.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nips at my lip and spins me around, lifting me to the desk and shoving my skirt up over my hips. There’s a clatter of things across the surface, which we both ignore, letting the tinkling of paperclips falling to the tile fade to an echo through my frantic lust.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I hum as he massages my thighs and kicks off his coveralls, leaving him in nothing but fitted boxers and the outline of his hard dick driving my need for this release.
I should stop this, but no part of me wants to. I’ve been waiting to unleash this part of me, and I’m not going to let anything get in my way. I’m going to fuck a gorgeous stranger, and lucky for me, he has no issues giving me exactly what I ask for.
“No. And the glass is frosted. No one can see in here.”
“Good,” I say, hooking my thumbs in my underwear and stripping them from under my skirt. He blinks at me, and the dumbfounded pout on his full lips only makes me want him more. There’s something hot about his lack of expectation at this entire experience. Each time I push it forward he’s awestruck, and I love it. There’s a power that surges through me each time he checks in to see if it’s still happening. If we’re still doing this. Because I’m in control here.
I reach into my purse perched at the end of the desk and hand him a condom. “You know how to use one of these?”
He manages to get a hold of himself, and the stunned expression gives way to a devilish grin with the power to melt the panties off every single woman on the planet, I’m sure. It was a grin saying, not only do I know how to use it, but I’m going to use it to blow your fucking mind.
That’s the kind of confidence I’m looking for.
I’m ready to have my mind blown. I’m glad to escape my thoughts and live in my body and push out everything dragging me down and holding me prisoner—every expectation I’ve never been able to live up to.
He tears the package open and steps between my knees, forcing them apart. I barely notice the time pass, and I watch his face as he prepares, reaches for my hips to yank me to the edge of the desk, and then pressure. My head tips and my eyes slide closed. I’m only here. I’m only in this moment holding on to the edge of the desk as he uses his thumb on my clit to direct my mind and body to him. He uses his other hand to shove my shirt up and slows his thrust to taste my skin, flicking and sucking the nipple into his mouth until I’m nothing but air—big heavy breaths of otherworldly existence.
The stress of the last few months stirs and builds and collects into one tight ball, and then a wave of pleasure washes it all away. My arms shake, and elbows give out, but he catches me. One hand grips under my knee, the other arm wraps around me, my hair in a coil around his fist, keeping my chin angled to the sky. His grip is desperate like he needs this in the same way I do.
Through my parted lips, a small huff escapes with every thrust, and I ride out every unique sensation flooding through my body.
With his fingers still tangled in my hair, he holds me tight to him as he comes, his shoulders tensing and a low growl rippling up his throat. His forehead drops to my shoulder, and I stroke his back while he catches his breath, tracking the race of his heart beneath the muscle.
There’s a loud buzz shocking me into my body, and I jolt in surprise.