…Just like I can feel it burning off of her.
My eyes drip over her, and just like it has every single time I’ve laid eyes on her since the day she walked into this office, my body tenses. My heart thunders a little faster, pumping blood like diesel through my veins. My jaw clenches, and my cock swells eagerly against my suit pants.
It’s been like this every damn time she’s been near me, since her first fucking day here. And I know it’s the same damn thing for Seamus.
We’re similar, my best friend and me. Both fearlessly bold. Both driven beyond belief to succeed. Both strong, and firm, and hungry like sharks for what we want.
…Both fucking aching to put our hands and lips over every goddamn succulent, tempting, forbidden inch of Noelle Healy’s tight, gorgeous body.
I can’t explain it. Neither can Seamus. We’ve tried, believe me, ever since she strolled into our lives. But some things have no explanation. Some things just are, and our obsession, and our lust, and our need for her lands firmly in that camp.
We know what people say about us. That we’re cold, or robots. And fuck, we might as well be for how hard we’ve worked for what we have. But I know how they mean it. They mean it as in two men like us, with our wealth and our position in the world, and in the shape we’re in, should be drowning in women. I know it, Seamus knows it. And maybe in another life we would be, but it’s not for us.
It’s not just that we don’t have the time for women. It’s also not just that Seamus and I long ago figured out that we work better together. We work better as a team, and that includes women. We learned long ago that the fierce synergy between us that allows us to push forward and succeed would be thrown off when one of us started seeing someone. And once we realized we were fine with sharing, that was the goal.
And yet, we never had. And again, I know there are thousands of women out there who’d readily tear their clothes off a man like me or Seamus. And there’s even a huge percentage of that who’d do it for both of us, willingly, knowing we come as a package deal. And the offers have been there, trust me.
But we’ve never gone forward. We can’t. Seamus and I are like brothers, and we know what we want in this world. And random women and meaningless nights ain’t it. And so we’ve ignored women. We’ve focused on our empire. We’ve ignored the rumors of us being gay, or gay for each other.
Please. No, it’s a woman we’re after. We just never thought we’d find her.
…Until her. Until Noelle.
She’s not up here for the reasons everyone thinks she is. We’re grilling half our staff today, but no, we don’t really think the newest employee of our company is our saboteur.
…We think she’s ours.
We’ve waited. We’ve bided our time. We’ve watched as she comes to work in those pencil skirts and heels, those tight blouses. That soft chestnut brown hair piled up in a bun on her head or loose around her pretty neck. Those glasses perched on that button nose like every single sexy librarian fantasy the world has ever known, all rolled into one tight, quiet, soft, sexy little package.
It’s all of that, and today, we’ve broken. Today, our resolve has cracked. Maybe it’s grilling all of these employees. Maybe it’s that tensions are running high and tempers hot. Maybe it’s having lost the banking client. Maybe it’s that it’s the holidays, and without families of our own, it’s always just Seamus and me.
Or maybe, it’s that tight, silky red blouse she’s worn today to be festive. Maybe it’s the little gold chain with the mistletoe pendant hanging low around her neck, nestled just perfectly between those soft, creamy, tantalizing tits of hers. Maybe it’s that we were on the ground floor level earlier, briefly, and inadvertently caught sight of her walking up the wide, translucent glass stairs leading up to the mezzanine level. And maybe that glimpse gave us both the knowledge that our quiet, meek little new hire was wearing thigh-highs and red lacy panties under that smart office skirt.
…Maybe it’s that we’ve been painfully hard ever since.
Whatever it is, we’re done holding back. We’re done pretending we can resist the temptation to take her, and claim her, and mark her as our own.
We both tower over her, watching her pulse beat quickly in the soft hollow of her neck. Her chest rises and falls, her eyes darting between us. I see her nipples pucker slightly under that blouse, and I groan.
Maybe she’s scared. Maybe she’s excited. Maybe it’s both.