My chest hurts. My stomach is tied up in knots. A bead of sweat runs down my spine and… this is bullshit. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. I’m the head of one of the most notorious underground syndicates in the world. And I’m standing here, moping over the fact that I can’t have this girl? This is insane.
I’m about to pull my hand back when she squeezes her legs together. She rubs her thighs, trapping my palm between them. She pushes up so her pussy is nestled firmly in my palm. Oh, fuck. I watch her face, but she’s still asleep. She parts her legs again, then subsides. Her breathing deepens again. I bend on one knee, continue to survey her features. I circle her clit, strum her pussy lips, and she moves restlessly. Bloody hell, I’m going to have to be quick about this. I ease a finger inside her pussy. And so help me God, but she’s wet. So wet. So hot. I slide another finger in, then a third. I weave them in and out of her, in and out, never taking my eyes off of her features.
She wriggles her hips, moans again, but doesn’t open her eyes. I plunge my fingers into her pussy and twist. And her entire body shudders. Her breathing grows labored. Her chest rises and falls; the peaks of her nipples stand out against the fabric of her blouse. I want to tear off her blouse, rip off her bra so her full tits spill out. I want to fuck her tits and come in her mouth. But since I can’t, I’ll settle for making her come on my fingers instead.
I increase the intensity of my actions, then rub the heel of my palm into her clit. Her mouth falls open, a low cry emerging from her lips. She bows her back and her entire body shudders as she comes, with her pussy fluttering around my fingers. I continue to finger fuck her gently through the aftershocks running up her body. Then, I pull my fingers out and ease my arm out from under her skirt. I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck. Her sweetness coats my tongue and goes straight to my head. She tastes like goddamn strawberries. I straighten her skirt, but before I can draw up her zipper, she turns on her side facing me. I pause, but she doesn’t move. I reach over to raise her zipper, but she brings up a knee. Fuck. I manage to pull up the zipper. She shifts again. I pause again. Best not to push my luck. I rise to my feet, turn to leave, then hesitate. I shrug off my jacket, then bundle it up and lift her head to place it under her neck. She sighs, then snuggles into the jacket. Her breathing deepens.
I glance around, then walking over to the closet in the corner of the room, I open it and pull out one of the blankets I keep there for the nights I’ve needed to spend in this office, too. I turn back, reach her, and cover her with it. I’m only doing it so she doesn’t get a cold because she’s the one who has to present this pitch tomorrow. Yeah, that’s all it is. I rub my chest, then spin around and walk over to my desk.
"JJ! Hey!" I snap my eyes open to find Lena staring down at me. The dawn light filtering in through the window highlights her features.
Her hair is mussed, her cheeks are flushed, but she looks rested. Her shoulders are relaxed. Good. She glances from me to the computer, then back at me. "Did you finish it?"
"What time is it?"
"6 a.m."
I crack my neck, roll my shoulders, then rise to my feet. "I’ve emailed the deck to you. Go over it once, and be ready to present the pitch by 9 a.m."
"I need to go home and change."
"So do that."
I brush past her, heading for the door.
"JJ, wait."
I turn to find her walking over to the settee. She holds the balled-up jacket out to me. "You forgot this."
I close the distance between us, take the jacket, and shrug into it.
"Thanks for letting me sleep here."
I shrug.
"And thanks for loaning me the jacket, and the blanket."
"It was an afterthought," I assure her.
"I slept really well, actually." She eyes the couch with a puzzled look. "In fact, I could have sworn I dreamed that—"
"What?"
"That..." She purses her lips, then shakes her head. "Nothing, forget it. I’ve been dreaming a lot lately."
"Good dreams, I hope?" I can’t stop my lips from twisting.
Her cheeks pinken. Then she tips up her chin. "It was all right."
"Just all right?" I frown.
"What’s it to you?"
"Me?" I raise my hands. "Nothing at all. I’m glad you’re rested. It’ll help you win this pitch."
"Right." She draws in a breath. "Are you going to give me a lift home so I can change my clothes?"
"Oh, I’m not going home today. I keep an apartment just above my office."