“Why don’t we search you and find out?”
Oh God.
I gasp as his hand slides down over my ass, his strong fingers trailing over my body in a way that should make me scream, but instead makes me tremble. It moves lower, sliding right over the curve of my ass and down the back of my thigh. His fingers find the edge of my skirt, and suddenly, he starts to pull.
My jaw drops.
“You can’t seriously think—”
“Face the glass, Miss Healy,” Seamus purrs. “And not another word.”
My face goes crimson, my eyes wide as saucers and my pulse thundering a million miles an hour as my rough, gorgeous, dominant, stern boss begins to tug my skirt up the back of my legs. My breathing comes faster, and deeper, and I can feel the flush on my face creeping down my neck and chest.
My nipples harden, and I shiver.
The skirt tugs higher, and higher, and my breathing comes more and more labored as more of my bare legs are exposed to them. When it tugs over the tops of my thigh-highs, I blush even deeper. Not pantyhose, like proper office attire. Thigh-highs. I bite my lip, blushing fiercely as I hear both big men growl lowly.
“Well, well,” Seamus chuckles darkly. “Office attire, huh?”
“I—” The blush burns through my cheeks. “Pantyhose always feel constricting,” I mumble.
I hear Brock make a tsking sound as he pulls the skirt higher, up over the curve of my ass, until suddenly, they stop again. And this time, I know I can hear them growling.
“Ms. Healy,” Brock says, his voice as icy as it is deep.
My face blooms with heat as I feel both their eyes positively devour the sight of my panties. My red, lacy, thong parties, pulled tight against me.
“Hardly appropriate for the office,” he hisses, his lips near my ear again, making me gasp. Again, the bottom half of the glass is frosted. No one can see that my bosses have my skirt pulled up to my waist. All they can see is me facing the glass, trembling, my face red while both huge men tower behind me, like I’m being admonished for something.
And I am, but it’s not what they might think down there.
“Is this where you’re hiding it?” Seamus growls. His hands slides over my ass, and one of his fingers slips under the edge of my thong. I gasp as he tugs it a little, pulling the lacy material tight against my pussy. He slides his hand down, keeping his fingers under the back of the thong and letting them trace down my ass, slipping the material from between my cheeks as he goes and letting the air tease over my most private places.
And I whimper.
Seamus stops, and I can hear a rumble in his chest. Something fierce and strained. Something animalistic. Something wild. And when I hear it from Brock too, I tremble with heat.
“You’re shaking,” Brock purrs into my ear.
“N—no, I’m just—”
“Worried we’re going to find what we’re looking for?”
Seamus’s hand slides lower, moving right over the soft curve of my ass and pushing down between my thighs. And when his finger, still under my panties, slides right over my pussy, I gasp sharply, and I blush harder than I ever have before.
Because it’s not just that my bosses have me up against the glass wall of their office. It’s not just that they’ve got my skirt hiked up to my waist. It’s not even that one of them has his hand in my panties with his thick finger teasing over my bare pussy.
…It’s that while he’s doing it, I’m fucking soaking wet.
Dripping. Slick. Messy with my desire. I can feel it dripping down his finger and soaking the fabric of my pantries in a second. And so can he.
Seamus chuckles darkly, this rumbling sound that vibrates through me.
“Well, well, Ms. Healy,” he purrs. His finger slides over my soft lips, and I whimper loudly before I can bite my lip shut.
“Someone’s on the naughty list this year,” he chuckles, turning to Brock. “Soaking fucking wet.”
Brock growls, and when I feel his hand slide over my ass, I tremble.
“That true, Ms. Healy?” he rasps into my ear. “Stealing, corporate espionage, and wearing naughty-girl panties to work just wasn’t enough for you, was it?” He chuckles this deep, rumbling sound into my ear that has me gasping. “Guess we’ll go ahead and add ‘getting all wet for her two bosses like a naughty girl’ to that list, now won’t we?”
His hand skims over my ass, yanking my panties to the side before pushing lower. Seamus’s hand moves away from me, and when Brock’s takes his place, I moan softly. His big fingers push right between my slippery, dripping wet lips, teasing over my opening until his fingertip bumps over my clit. I gasp sharply, and I see people down below wince and look up with odd looks on their faces, mistaking the one on mine for pain or shame.