“Well... it’s pretty hard to ignore how hot you are.” She shook her head at his smirk. “So, it was the little things you did.”
“Such as?”
God, he was the last man on earth who needed an ego boost.
“When you’d take off, or put on, your jacket. Or—”
“My jacket?” he asked, his eyes narrowing even as he grinned.
“Yes, your arms.” She ran her hands over his thick biceps. “Your muscles, they stretch the fabric of your shirts and it’s, well, it creates a reaction in my body.”
“How? Tell me.” His voice thickened.
“Heat. A hot need between my thighs,” she said, as he ran his hand between them, touching her right where she had described.
He began circling her core.
“And is this what you wanted when you felt like that?”
“Yes.”
“Were you in my office?”
She nodded.
“Alone with me?”
She nodded again.
“You could have sat and removed your panties. Asking me to relieve your need.” He pressed harder through her sweatpants.
Shamelessly, she arched her pelvis into his hands.
“You could have leaned back on my sofa, widened your legs and let me see the glistening wetness of your pussy.”
Olivia was unable to find words. God, that had been exactly what she wanted. The aching and clenching of her thighs for over twelve months during meetings had been agonizing.
Fletcher stood, and her eyes flew open.
He scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom.
“Flet—”
His finger pressed to her lips, then he quickly pulled her sweatpants and panties off, and nudged her onto the bed.
Oh, shit.
She stared up at the ceiling as his hands spread her thighs and he kneeled down between them. His mouth surrounded her pussy, and she had to shove her fist into her mouth to stay silent.
Silent-ish.
Jesus, she was in trouble.
How could she work every day with this man she desired and adored, and never want this again?
When his fingers entered her and his thumb rubbed against her clit, she grabbed a pillow and pressed it to her face.
“We’re in my office, Liv,” he said. “I have you spread out on my desk. I’m tasting your pussy, and someone is going to walk in.”