I imagine that if I was close enough, her breaths could warm my neck while I hold her body against mine. My fingers would drag through her hair, down her back, and curve around her luscious ass. A not-so-gentle squeeze would make her breath hitch.
The ache in my balls anchors me to the actual moment that’s playing out, which is even better than my fantasy. Wrapping my belt around my hand, another flicker of imagination has me wanting to bind her hands. Her breath hitches when she looks at the leather strap, but that’s for another day. Maneuvering the button of my slacks, I loosen my pants and accept that I’ve become a show.
I click my zipper down a few notches, and I can’t decide if I’m humored by Natalie staring, or if I’m going to try to make something of it.
A few more notches and I’m losing the ability to keep my cock from responding. Natalie’s always had the hot secretary vibe, and I’ve never wanted to be the clichéd boss abusing his power, which is why I barely allow myself to look at her, handling as much business as possible electronically or over the phone.
Admittedly, I’m selfish. She’s an incredible admin, one I’ll never be able to replace. But the other factor is that I’d lose my shit if she worked for anyone but me. I’m protecting her.
I’ve long since wondered if her innocence was for show, but as she eats up every click of my zipper, and the increasing angle my cock is tenting my slacks, her innocence becomes less of a question, which only makes me harder.
I’m normally the untie-your-shoes-and-slide-them-off kind of guy, but with all of this mud, and my raging erection, I kick them off, shuck my pants carefully over my hardened cock, and watch Natalie’s eyes go wide.
My underwear is stretched to its limit. I rub a hand over my cock to take the edge off, but it’s not my hand I long for. Her delicate fingers, with those pretty manicured nails would look divine wrapped around my shaft.
If I don’t get out of this room, I’m going to get us fired…but only if one of us tells. Fuck. That’s a dangerous game to play, more so for her than me. I’ve been with the company for fifteen years. She’s only been there a few months. I’ve seen how this plays out, and it’s never fair.
How am I supposed to deal with her being trapped in my house? I could send her to her brothers’ house, which is next door. They’re the reason I hired her, but they’d failed to tell me she would steal my fucking heart. If either of them had shown me a picture, I would have asked her for a date instead of a resumé.
There’s no fucking way I’m sending her next door. Now the question is to figure out how to keep her here and not regret it. Some guys might not want to piss off their neighbors by fucking their sister, but we’re all adults.
With any luck, the shower won’t just clean my body, but will also take care of my dirty thoughts. I ignore the fact that my dream girl is staring at my cock. “I better hit the shower.”
Stripping my socks off, gathering my mess of clothes, and hoping there’s enough cold water to talk the big guy down, I do the right thing and leave the room.
Four
Natalie
WhenIfinallypullout of the erection enchantment, I retrieve my purse from my car and dial my brother, Nathan. No, our parents weren’t very creative when it came to names. My half-brother, Carson, who also lives next door, got lucky that our mom hadn’t thought of the matching name thing when he was born.
How long had I stared at my boss’s erection? And why did he have one? I have so many questions about sex, and there’s no one I’d rather have help me answer them than Mister Adams.
Other thanthe otherMister Adams.
How are there two of these perfect men walking the earth? I hang up the call before Nathan answers.
Was it totally cringy that I ogled my boss in his moment of despair? I hadn’t even asked about his car or the mudslide…I’m not normally so insensitive.
Mindlessly staring out the window, I’m alone, a huge emotional letdown from the moments I had with each of the Adams men moments before. But as I grasp for sanity, the ache between my legs and in my chest cloud my judgment.
Lincoln is as organized and tidy at home as he is in the office, which allows me to easily find his cleaning products. Cloud cover builds again, so I flip on the light, kick my shoes off by the front door, and busy myself with cleaning the mud he tracked in.
My phone rings. It’s my reprieve, Nathan returning my call, but after an awkward conversation, I surmise that he doesn’t want me at his house. Something’s definitely up. If I wasn’t trapped on the opposite side of the mudslide from my best friend, I’d go to her place. Rather than question my lack of options, I accept it as another nudge from the universe.
I make a risqué decision. Risqué coming from someone who recently turned old enough to order alcohol in a bar but has never done anything more than kissing and clothed contact.
It’s as if an act of god trapped me in a situation that has an element of safety while offering an opportunity to explore a side of me I’ve never been comfortable with. I’m going to pursue whatever this is with my boss’s twin.
Still on my knees, I stuff the last dirty paper towel into the plastic bag I’m using for trash when footfalls stop behind me.
The vulnerability of being on my hands and knees with my ass pointed at my boss takes a backseat to the heat pooling between my legs. I wish I was one of those sexy-minded women who would add a little wiggle to her hips. I’m not.
Instead, I sit on my heels and look over my shoulder.
The smolder in his eyes incinerates every last word I planned on saying about cleaning up. I’m not sure how a look, no matter how smoldering, can make me sweat, but I’m at least glistening.
He’s even taller and more commanding from this angle. My face is way too close to his hip height. But it’s the sweat pants, fitted t-shirt, and wet tousled hair that leave me so weak I’m not sure I can stand.