“I’m intrigued.” I pushed off my desk, rolling back in my chair.
“Okay.” She bit her lower lip. “Promise me you don’t mind? Because I’m really about to be up in your space, and I really didn’t shadow you just to find out how sexual harassment claims work. Not that I’d sue you, of course! I mean, you suing me.”
I blinked, images of that scene she’d written dancing through my head on repeat. “I’d never sue you.”
“I can use your body however I like for the purposes of research?”
Well, holy shit. I swallowed. “Sure.” I moved my hands to the arms of my chair, determined to keep them right there come hell or high water.
“Cool. And feel free to put your hands wherever they’d naturally go, since this is a weird kind of seating arrangement.” She stepped sideways, positioning her ass in front of my face, and then sat right in my lap.
Lilacs and vanilla flooded my senses, and she wiggled, so she was a little more on my left thigh than center. If she kept moving like that, she’d find out exactly where my hands were going.
“And what exactly are we doing?” Fuck, my voice sounded like it had been scraped over concrete.
“I’m trying to see… if the heroine is in the hero’s lap,” she said, leaning back against my chest.
Fuck, I could feel her from knee to neck, and it was all I could do to keep completely still.
“If she could just tilt her head back to reach him.” She turned her head and my lips grazed her cheek. “Close, but…” She turned at the waist, dragging her soft skin across my lips, but not nearing my mouth. “Nope.”
My heart started to pound, and my cock was quickly becoming not so semi in the erect department.
“Damn it. I really wanted that to work.” She leaned forward slightly. “It would have been so hot if she’d been leaning over his desk and he’d yanked her onto his lap, and kissed the shit out of her, but it’s not worth snapping my heroine’s neck over.” She moved like she was about to stand, and my hands gripped her hips.
“I can make that happen.” Fuck, once again, my mouth was running away on me.
“You think?” She looked over her shoulder at me skeptically.
“Are you challenging me?” My hands flexed on her curves through the layers of fabric. “Because by now you should have figured out that I don’t know how to do anything but win when it comes to a challenge.”
Her eyes widened, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Fine, then it’s a challenge. If you can figure out how to make that position work, then you win.”
“What do I win?” Thank God she had one of those poofy underskirt things on, so she didn’t feel just how much the thought of the challenge was turning me on.
“Whatever you want, but don’t already have,” she teased.
“You’re on.” I released her hips. “Stand up.”
She did, putting that delicious ass at a biteable level.
“Do I have your permission to manhandle you?” I asked. “Assuming your character would be the manhandling sort.”
“He’s a total manhandler,” she confirmed. “The kind of man who knows exactly what he wants and takes it.” She spun, whipping her forefinger in the air. “With consent, of course.”
“And I have yours?” I asked, keeping my gaze locked on hers.
She threw her arms into the air. “Manhandle me, Asher Silas!”
Oh, I was going to pay for that comment with Mrs. Donaldson later, I knew it. I just couldn’t bring myself to care. “Lean over,” I ordered. “Just like you’re the heroine.”
“Like this?” She did, and the fabric of her skirt rose up slightly. For fuck’s sake, I had a hard on for the back of this woman’s knees.
“Then he’s going to grab—” I gripped the top of her hips. “And bring her right where he wants her.” I yanked her back into my lap.
“Oh.” Her breath hitched.
“Then he’s going to move slightly.” I shifted her entirely to my left thigh. “Cup her face.” I used my right hand to cradle her cheek. “And bring her face right where he needs it.” I leaned to the right slightly and turned her head parallel with her shoulder, bringing us to the perfect angle. My lips were only an inch above hers.
“Oh,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to my mouth.
“See, it’s not about where your heroine lands, or how she arches, or moves,” I whispered as the air charged between us. “It’s about how your hero moves her. How he angles her. He has to do his share of the moving, too.”
“Right,” she muttered, then ran her tongue over her lower lip.
I groaned at the sight.
“You haven’t won yet,” she challenged softly. “You still have to prove it works.”
“Daisy…” I leaned in that sacred little inch and brushed my lips over hers. They were so fucking soft as they stroked back over mine. “See? It works,” I said against her lips.