Naked Games (Hard to Get 3)

“You’re the devil,” he whispered against her ear. “A delicious, red-haired devil.”

“Um, your shirt. It’s going to get all wrinkled,” she said, not that she cared with him pressed against her. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock nudging her butt cheeks, and her pussy reacted with a flow of damp heat.

“Later for that,” he mumbled. “First there’s this.” He cupped her pussy through her panties, and Catherine’s legs went as weak as wet noodles.

Oh, God, yes, she thought. “Will we be late?” she asked, as she felt his mouth against the pulse in her neck.

Dean froze, then cursed a few times. “Probably.”

Catherine gathered enough strength to pull out of his arms and turn around. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Hold that thought for later, then,” she said against his lips. “When we have more than a few minutes to spare.”

He closed his eyes tight and fisted his hands at his sides. “Go, woman, cover up that hot body before I forget I have employees waiting on me and I take you against the damn wall.”

Catherine’s blood heated at the guttural words. Without another teasing remark, she sped from the room.

Catherine was suitably impressed with Dean’s business. It was bigger than she’d imagined. He was quite successful. He’d shown her the lumberyard and she’d met his foreman, a kind man with gray hair and a strong workingman’s build. A few men had whistled at her, but when Dean glared at them they’d quickly gone back to work. Now he was seated at his desk going over a bid he’d worked up for an office building. She walked around the room and smiled when she spied a picture of his family. She picked it up and realized it must have been taken at a family get-together. He had his arm around Deanna, and she was smiling. Jonas stood to Deanna’s right. Wade and Gracie were on opposite sides of Mrs. Harrison. Not for the first time, Catherine wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up in a family like that. Love and laughter, sibling rivalry. Her parents had been wonderful, but they were old school. Homework and chores after school, then dinner and bedtime. If it’d hadn’t been for Mary’s friendship her life would’ve been horribly boring and lonely.

She turned toward Dean and held the picture in the air. “You have a beautiful family, Dean. You’re very lucky.”

Dean looked up, then crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”

She put the picture back the way she found it and crossed the room. “Yes?”

He stood and caged her in with both arms on either side of the desk. “I see something more beautiful,” he murmured.

Catherine knew he was referring to her, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. When he touched his mouth to hers and stroked his tongue over her bottom lip, her body thrummed to life. One arm came around her lower back and pulled her toward him. He moved backward, and before she knew it she was in his lap.

Scandalized by the fact they were in his office and anyone could walk in at any moment, Catherine pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss. “Dean, we shouldn’t. Not here.”

“Yes, here,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. She hesitated, torn between what she wanted and propriety. Dean immediately took advantage of her indecision by coaxing her lips apart and slipping his tongue inside. His taste, now so familiar, was better than cheesecake and chocolate put together. He explored the inside of her mouth and slid his palm lower to cup her bottom. Catherine wound her arms around his neck and sank into his seductive touch.

Since arriving at his office, he’d been rather distant. As if he didn’t want anyone to know they were more than merely friends. It made her want to throttle him. Now that she had him close, she wasn’t going to waste any time. She drifted her hands down his nape to his shoulders, then his pecs and ripped abs. He was so hard and muscular all over it nearly melted her every time she touched him. He was a powerful, arrogant, handsome god. Feeling wild and impetuous, Catherine coasted her palm over the bulge in his faded jeans, cupping his rigid length. He was as turned on as she, Catherine was pleased to notice.

As he continued to eat at her mouth, Catherine played. Soon, his free hand moved up her calf, beneath the back of the knee-length skirt she’d worn. He caressed his way up her thigh and cupped her mound. Catherine lurched at the feel of him there. It was in the middle of the workday and they were at his office. What were they thinking?

With the little willpower she still had left, Catherine forced her mouth off his and moved her hand away from his crotch. “Stop, Dean,” she said in a hushed whisper. “We could be seen.”

Dean chuckled. “We won’t be seen, sweetheart. I locked the door when you were nosing around earlier. Now, be still and let me have some fun.”

Catherine wanted to protest the nosy comment, but his mouth moved to her neck and he began to nibble and lick. She’d protest later, she decided. “God, I love when you do that.”

Dean moved to her ear and whispered, “I’ve only just begun.” He sat back in the chair. “Straddle me so I can play.”

Catherine cringed as she became aware that she had all her weight on him. “I’m not too heavy?”

He frowned, clearly confused. “Heavy?”

She plucked at her skirt. “I’m larger than average, that’s all.”

In a flash, Dean gripped her around the waist and lifted her. “Straddle me,” he demanded. When she obeyed, he plopped her back down on top of his thighs. Her skirt was hiked up to midthigh and her satin-covered pussy was now pressed against his fly. “Do not put yourself down. You aren’t heavy. You’re perfect. Every inch of you.”

Her face heated. “I wasn’t putting myself down.” His black look called her a liar. “I have a mirror, Dean.”

He grasped a handful of her hair in a possessive hold. “Every man here leered at you the minute you walked onto the property. I can’t keep my damn hands off you for five minutes, and you think you’re heavy?” He shook his head as if exasperated with her. Catherine started to protest his ridiculous claim, but Dean plowed right over her. “Make no mistake, sweetheart, you are in my mind day and night. I think of you when I go to bed. Your touch, your sweet, sweet curves, and this pretty mouth. I can’t get enough.”

Her eyes welled up, but she refused to let the tears spill over. “I think of you too. I’ve never wanted a man more than I want you.”

His smile was possessive and proud. “Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we?”