Don't Go Baking My Heart

He shook his head again and headed upstairs. He returned quickly with her precious panties in a small brown bag and placed it next to her on the couch, then took up his container and sat in the chair opposite her.

She broke off a piece of chicken, ensuring to get some of the best part, the skin, and brought it to her mouth. “No need to go so far away.”

“I think I need to keep my eye on you.”

“Aww, you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“You showed up at my office with nothing on under that dress,” he reminded her as if she would forget.

“I wasn’t wearing underwear at the exhibit, either. You didn’t seem to mind then.”

“Not the same thing. My office is not for any of that.”

“Hmm, and yet…” Reba licked the taste of the chicken off her fingers, watching Devon as he watched her, reminding him of exactly how much his office was supposedly not for such activities.

He shifted in his seat, the food container nearly tipping off his lap. He grabbed onto it before the entire thing ended up on the floor.

“I’ve never done anything like that at work before.”

“Really? Office sex is so fun.”

“We didn’t even lock the damn door. I can’t believe I did that.”

“The best part is the possibility of getting caught. Anyone could have walked in while your fingers were in me.”

He spooned some rice into his mouth, chewing slowly before getting to his feet. “We need something to wash this down.”

Her eyes went right to the dick tenting the front of his pants. “Just water for me,” she replied. Mr. Calm was still in need of some relief. She chuckled as he went to the kitchen, food still in his hand. She would see how long he held on to that control.

He returned with a chilled glass of water and a beer for himself. “I should have asked if you wanted this room temp.”

“It’s fine.”

He took his seat, the hand that wasn’t holding the food container brushing the front of his pants like he wanted to adjust himself.

She took up the cool glass, waving it at his crotch. “Don’t hold back on my account. I love a good show.”

He froze, hand dropping away to rest next to him. He placed the food on the small coffee table and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers intertwined. “Is that so?” His voice was pure gravel at this point. It made her pause with the fork halfway to her mouth.

Yeah, she felt that tone buzz down the entire length of her body and settle right between her legs. She hoped he was going to follow through with everything that tone implied.

“Let me ask you this. Is there no limit to the outrageous things you say or do?”

She tapped the fork against her lips. “What do you think?”

“I think you enjoy playing with people. Seeing how you can push their buttons until they just give up and give in. I don’t get the need for it, but I suppose I respect it.”

She stuck her fork into her rice. “You respect it? That’s a damn lie. You find it annoying.”

“Yes, but I’m still in awe of whatever this skill is. That’s not a lie.”

“Wait, what?” Where the hell was all this coming from? Devon was stone-cold sober and telling her he respected her skill with charming people? That couldn’t be right.

“Your powers of persuasion are…unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You implied that I could masturbate right here, right now, and I…”

“You?” she prompted. Was he actually going to say what she thought he was? Because holy shit, maybe she was more powerful than she’d ever thought.

He cleared his throat. “Have this urge to do just that. It doesn’t make any sense.”