Her usually pale cheeks were flooded with color. Her hands were waving in the air the way they did when she was flustered. Her gaze bounced around everywhere, never meeting my eyes and never settling. She shifted in her chair, unable to sit still.
I knew those tells. She wasn’t thinking about the logo or the website any more than I was right then.
The only tool she was thinking about was the one currently hard as steel—for her.
In one movement, I slammed the laptop shut and dragged her onto my lap. She gasped, grasping my neck as I held her close.
“You did this deliberately, didn’t you, Red? Thought all this up, knowing how I would react.” I ground myself up into her heat, groaning at the feel of her pressing back against me.
“Only after,” she whimpered. “I realized how you would take it.”
“Oh, I’m going to take it all right. Just as soon as you ask me nicely.”
She pulled my mouth to hers, and we kissed. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tasting the peaches from dessert, the sweetness highlighting her flavor, which I found addictive. I gripped her hips, fisting the silky material of the skirt she’d changed into. I liked the way it swirled around her knees as she moved, showing off her sexy legs. She moaned deep in her throat as I licked my way up her neck, cursing into her ear as she undulated over me.
“Up,” I commanded, pulling up the material that separated us in my hands and bunching it around her. She made fast work of the sweats I was wearing, yanking them down, then crying out as I sat back down and pulled her back to my lap, the only thing separating us the thin silk of her thong.
“Maxx,” she gasped. “Oh god, you’re so big. Massive.”
I scowled. “You drive me fucking crazy. But I meant it. Ask me, Red. You have to ask me.”
“It’s just sex,” she replied, the statement sounding more like a question.
“Yes,” I snarled, thrusting up, desperate to be inside her.
“But I want you,” she murmured, her lips at my ear. “You want me?”
“You can feel how much I want you,” I groaned. “My cock is aching.” I fisted the tiny lace straps on her hips. “Put me out of my misery, Red.”
“Holy moly. Fuck me, Maxx. Use that big tool and tune me up,” she breathed, the word fuck never sounding so sexy before now.
The straps broke under my hands. In seconds I was deep inside her, the heat and wet of her surrounding me. She buried her face in my neck as I drove myself upward, gripping her hips and guiding her. She cried out as I hit that spot inside her that drove her to new heights. I wrapped one arm around her, imprisoning her against me as I moved. She gripped me tight, her embrace locked around my neck. She whimpered and moaned, her lips against my ear. She pleaded and begged. Cried out my name. She strangled my cock, her muscles clamping down and holding me prisoner. My balls tightened as she began to orgasm, her body stiffening as she bent back, crying out her release.
I kissed my way down her throat, sucking on her nipples through the thin material of her T-shirt, the lace showing through the wet spot on the fabric as I moved between them. I kept moving, grunting and roaring out in my need. Her eyes flew open wide, her breathing becoming harder.
“I’m going to…oh god…I’m going to come…again. Maxx, please, I can’t… I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, Red. Come all over me again. Soak me. I want to feel it. Feel you.” I reached between us and found her bundle of nerves, stroking over her lightly. Just enough to send her over the edge again.
She cried out, her climax hitting her again, pulling mine from me like I was in a vortex, spinning my world on its axis. I roared her name, dragging her up my chest and kissing her as if my life depended on the feel of her mouth underneath mine. I needed her oxygen to breathe. I had to have the taste of her in my mouth as I came. I needed her as close as possible to survive.
Reality returned slowly. She was clutched in my arms, her head on my shoulder, her body limp in my embrace. I was a mass of loose limbs and sweat-soaked skin, gripping her to me. The laptop was halfway across the table. The chair had left marks on the wooden floor where the feet dug into the wood. The light over the table swung slightly in the aftermath.
And Red was crying.
I sat up straight, running my hands over her. “Where? Where are you hurt?” I asked, frantic.
“I’m not,” she hiccuped.
“You’re crying.” I had never seen Red cry before. She was always brave and feisty.