Offensive Behavior

“Ah, Zarley.” His hand moved through her hair and cupped her skull.

“Miss. Halveston,” she corrected, moving out of his hold and pulling on his shirt so it came out of his jeans.

He laughed softly, “Miss. Halveston is attempting to corrupt me.”

“No sir.” She pushed his shirt open, stood back and looked at him a moment before her hands went to his belt buckle. “I corrupted you a long time ago.”

“Best night of my life.”

He reached for her but she avoided his hands. “It’s a good secretary’s job to make her boss comfortable at all times.” By comfortable she meant aroused and he was, it showed in his eyes and his want to touch her, and in the way it deepened and thickened his voice.

“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel.”

She took her hands away and cast her eyes down. “If I’ve made you unhappy, you should discipline me.”

He put his finger under her chin and brought it up, eyes data-mining hers. “Like that is ever going to happen. You have me caught in every breath you take.”

He wasn’t playing. It made her hands shake. She put them back on his belt and yanked it, pulling it around his body, out of the loops. Though she’d started this, it wasn’t a game to her either, it was the foam pit where she’d learned to tumble. It wouldn’t matter how high she soared or how badly she fell, she’d be protected from injury.

“My big bad boss is a huge softie and nobody knows that like me.” She jumped down from the sofa and circled behind Reid, needing to avoid his scrutiny. She tucked her fingers in the collar of his shirt and pulled it down his back, keeping his arms imprisoned. He turned his head to watch, so she kept her eyes up to his while she explored his shoulders with her hands and her lips.

“Zarley.”

“Miss. Halveston.” He would turn and hold her. And ruin her. She stepped back, pulled on his shirt and he let it come off his arms. By the time he turned she was on her knees ready to deal with his shoes. She knew he watched. He helped, shifting his weight, lifting his feet until he was barefoot. Kneeling up she reached for his jeans. His stomach jumped when she undid the stud. His chest heaved as she drew down the zipper.

None of what she did to him was new but he reacted as if it was the first time she’d kissed his belly, the first time she put her teeth to his hip and dragged her open mouth down his dick as she freed it from his pants. He trembled, his hands moved on her, he let her hear what he liked with indrawn breaths and low moans, from harshly coughed praise and stuttered gasps.

She could take him apart with her mouth and put him back together with her hands and when she used both, she made him lose his mind.

He swore, he grabbed at her, his breath labored and he shook. She pushed him back to the sofa and knelt between his legs to finish him, watched him watch her, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, his head fell back and his hips took over.

When she pulled away and sat back, the effect of her work made her smile. The tension he’d carried into the room was gone, but she’d woken the hunger in him.

“Why are you still dressed?”

She needed another bit of secretary talk to fill in the role-play, because much as he’d thought it was fun, she needed it so she didn’t give herself away. She wished she’d thought this through, worn a skirt and a shirt with buttons, put her hair up, looked like she was business instead of leisure, before stripping it all away.

“An oversight, sir.”

She knew what he wanted, and could give it to him so easily because it cost her nothing and it made her feel everything.

Except tonight, it might cost her heart.

She pulled her sweatshirt off without ceremony, then gave a lot of wiggle to losing her yoga pants, going back to her knees at his feet in her underwear.

“Miss. Halveston, off those knees and onto mine.” He held a hand out and she took it, grateful he’d taken control, coming to her feet then taking his lap sideways.

He traced her lips with a finger. “Those smart lips are mine.”

“Yours.”

Hand to her throat, he flattened it across her chest, smoothing down till she opened her legs and he tunneled his hand into the hot gap between them. “This body is mine.”

She leaned back on the arm that circled her shoulders. “Yours.”

His hand moved to her thigh, making the muscle jump, to her knee where he squeezed, then down her shin to her foot where he covered her instep. “These legs and feet.” He grabbed for her hand and brought it to his lips. “These hands.”

She’d taught him too well. He could inflame her body and devastate her emotions. “All yours, tonight.” And after tonight, memories and fantasies.