AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Everything that’s happening right now is between my legs, but there’s no doubt he’s claiming me.
His mouth covers mine as my pleasure scream tears from my throat, surely echoing out into the dining room and probably through the front door onto the street.
I’m lost in this velvety red vortex of my climax. Long, hard waves moving through me until I melt against the wide hardness of his torso, my body trembling as I look up to find the slightest smile curving those sexy lips.
“God...” It’s all I can manage as he tugs my dress up around my hips with a grunt, then with the swiftness and grace of a gazelle, he’s peeled off my panties and positioned my butt up on the desk behind me.
“Time for my dessert.” He runs his hands down the front of my dress, gripping my tits as he starts to push me back. “There’s no panna cotta or tiramisu or Crème Brule that could compete with this pretty, pink sweetness.”
His eyes flicker with fire as he runs his knuckles up the side of my leg, then they stop.
The fire turns to shock and I remember.
My scars.
“Baby,” he says, like someone’s just killed his puppy.
He looks torn as he gaze darts from my pussy to my leg.
I open my mouth to say something…
Explain?
Protest?
Cheer him on?
I’m not sure, but before I can do either, there’s a click from the door and it swings open with a whoosh.
“Who was that girl—” The little dark-haired woman from the kitchen blows into the room, then freezes as she takes in the scene.
“Holy shit!” She smacks her hands over her mouth then cups them around her eyes, trying to avoid eye contact. “Dude, on my desk? What the fuck? Never on my goddamn desk, man.”
Her surprise turns to irritation and reality comes crashing down.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, launching off the desk, knocking sexy hand tattoo man onto his ass, tugging at my dress.
“Just a second,” he says, righting himself as fast as a cat as I scan the area for my purse. “This is my sister. She should learn to knock.”
“It’s my fucking office,” she barks back, then starts to laugh, her hands still cupped at her temples.
I half want to hang around and see what sort of sibling war breaks out, but my pride has me bolting to the right.
I’m at the door in three steps, the hem of my dress cockeyed, stuck to my upper right thigh and barely covering my ass on the other side.
I grab the handle of my bag, clutching it to my chest as Mr. Magic Fingers reaches out but misses my upper arm by an inch.
A second later, I’m out, breaking into a run.
“Stop. Right now.” His voice seems to catapult down the hall in front of me, but I don’t stop.
“No!” I yell, clutching my bag in the crook of one hand, fighting the fabric of my dress with the other as I stumble and look over my shoulder to see him barreling out of the office door and down the hall toward me.
Shit.
My shin hits something and there’s a sloshing sound as wetness coats my legs, my feet, making me start to slip inside my shoes.
I throw an arm into the wall to right myself, the yellow mop bucket continuing to spill the soapy water onto the floor.
