Risk (Vault 1)

When she moans and crawls into my lap, straddling me, I almost lose my shit.

Her body presses hard against mine.

Her fingers tangle in my hair.

And she kisses me desperately, like the world is about to end and she needs to take everything from me that she can.

Fuck.

This is going to be so much more than a fucking kiss.

I grip her thighs, pushing her skirt up. When my hands find her ass, I groan. And when she matches that groan with one of her own and grinds herself against me, I can’t hold myself back any longer.

Holding her tightly, I stand and deposit her on the table.

She sits on the edge and wraps her legs around me, pulling me close. Reaching for the top button of my shirt, she undoes it and says, “You are going to be so much more than an obsession. Just so you know.”

“Thank fuck,” I mutter, lifting her top over her head and dropping it on the floor. I’m already obsessed.

It’s fucking difficult to drag my eyes from her tits. Or from the sexy-as-sin red bra she’s wearing. Hooking my finger under one of the straps and sliding it off her shoulder, I ask, “Do you always wear these kinds of bras to work?”

“What? Red ones?”

I shift the cup to the side to reveal her breast and bend to suck her nipple into my mouth. When I’ve had my fill, I say, “No, bras that make me want to bend you over and slam my dick inside you.”

Heat flares in her eyes and she rubs her hand over my dick that is still unfortunately inside my jeans. “Yes. I always wear bras like that. Everywhere. Life’s too short for ugly underwear. Wait ‘til you get to my panties.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I step back so I can lift her skirt. Work is going to become a whole new experience knowing Charlize is in the same building wearing underwear like this.

Just as my gaze lands on the sexiest panties I’ve ever seen, my phone sounds with a text.

Worst fucking timing.

I’d ignore it, but I’m waiting on some information from Julian. Reaching for my phone, I say, “Give me a minute. This could be something I’m waiting for.”

She nods, and I swipe to read the text.

Julian: I’ve got the info you need. Just outside. Grabbing us a coffee first.

“Fuck.” My eyes meet Charlize’s. “Julian’s downstairs. He’ll be up in a minute.” I bend to retrieve her top off the floor, silently cursing my right-hand man for being so fucking dedicated to his work.

She puts her top back on and slides off the table. “See this is why fucking your boss is a bad idea. Cockblockers everywhere.”

I snake my hand around her waist and pull her close for another kiss. I need more before I let her out of my sight. When we end it, I promise, “This will be continued.”

As she scoops her laptop up, her eyes find mine again. “Like I said, your lips are obses

sion-worthy. I’m all for more of that.” She brushes another kiss across my lips and then she’s gone. And I instantly miss her presence.

Obsession?

She’s not fucking wrong.

7

Charlize

“Stop it,” Dylan mutters on Wednesday night as we enter a charity gala my mother insisted I attend.