Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2) - Page 66

By the time she was ready to go home, he was happy to note that their interaction had more or less returned to normal. And once they left the gardens, he seamlessly slid back into his role as her CPO.

Ty was running scared. She could tell. Their conversation at lunch had unsettled him, and he was overcompensating now. He was being all big, bad bodyguard, with the leading, and tugging, and shepherding. As if he wanted to forget the hints of vulnerability he had shown her at lunch. As if he could make her forget.

She didn’t say anything as he bundled her into the elevator. And maintained her silence while she unlocked her front door. She was trying to respect his clear desire to restore normalcy between them again.

This afternoon had been an aberration. But it was business as usual now. Vicki followed him into the penthouse, and waited by the door, while he prowled from room to room and then headed upstairs. He was being more thorough than usual. He rarely swept the entire place.

She stifled a yawn, while she toed off her shoes, and draped her bag and hat on the coat rack. It was only four-thirty, but she reckoned she was done for the day. She was going to take a long shower, grab a tub of chocolate marshmallow ice-cream from the freezer, and watch a Britain’s Got Talent marathon or something.

“Your brother’s not here.” Ty’s voice startled her. She was still standing next to the coat rack, one hand massaging her nape with her eyes closed, daydreaming about that ice-cream. She hadn’t even heard Ty come back down the stairs.

“He’s with Stephen. I probably won’t see him till tomorrow evening.”

“Okay.” His voice sounded odd, strangled, and she peered up at him curiously. He didn’t just sound odd, he looked…

Oh, God. His expression was how she imagined she must have looked while thinking about that ice-cream. “Good.”

“What?” Oh, great, the squeaky voice was back. “What’s good?”

“I don’t know,” he said sounding a little helpless. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

He surged toward her, closing the distance between them in just a couple of steps. Vicki barely had time to register his words, much less his actions, when he cupped her face between his hands, and—without a second’s hesitation—slotted his mouth over hers, stealing away her shocked breath.

Vicki’s eyes flared before shutting in ecstasy when the reality of what was happening hit her. He tasted magnificent.

Spicy, hot, minty, cool…

He was an absolute contradiction. An enigma. He was fire and he was ice. And Vicki adored it.

Her glasses had been knocked askew by his hands, and she impatiently batted them from her face, uncaring of where they landed. Her arms found their way around his neck, while his wound around her waist. Ty gathered her close, surrounding her with his heat and his strength. His hands moved down to her hips, before sliding around to her butt, giving it a squeeze. He shifted his possessive grip to the back of her thighs, where he coaxed her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist.

Vicki felt something hard and cold at her back—the front door—and loved the extra leverage that allowed her to grind herself against him. All her fevered dampness, against his unyielding thickness.

Ty tore his mouth from hers and stared at her. “Fuck.”

He looked half-feral. His eyes were almost black with desire, and his lips were red and swollen. His breath came in harsh gasps, a perfect accompaniment to her own labored breathing. He clumsily tugged one of her spaghetti straps down over her shoulder and—immediately grasping what he needed from her—she eagerly shrugged out of it. One shoulder, then the other, until the top-half of her romper pooled around her waist, and her bare breasts, with their deep pink, painfully erect tips were revealed to him. He swore again. The word shaky and reverential. He brought a trembling hand up and thumbed one of those engorged peaks.

Vicki cried out and arched against him. The movement cause his erection to saw up against her cleft. His hard shaft rubbed up against her painfully swollen clit, her panties were so damp, she felt naked, and she sobbed in pleasure.

“Please, please, please…oh, please.” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, but when his mouth closed over her nipple and roughly suckled on the distended peak, she knew that it was exactly what she had been asking for.

Her head flew back, banging against the door, but the dull pain was eclipsed by the sharp pleasure of his teeth scraping against her tender nipple before another—even deeper—pull into his hot mouth.

“Aah, aah, aah…” The friction of his hard cock against her aching clit, combined with the painful suckling at her breast, set her off. Her orgasm was noisy, powerful and very, very wet.

Tags: Natasha Anders (Un)Professionally Yours Romance
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