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He pulls away, and I weakly lift my head to see him.
“Baby, in a minute, you won’t be, and you’ll be begging to come again.”
His promise is enticing, and I sharply inhale when he goes back to what he was doing. In a minute, he’s proven right. I’m mewling and clutching at the sheets again. This time my orgasm comes fast and hard, leaving my heart pounding in my ears and a hot flush across my face. Lost in a haze, I look down my body and find Chase watching my every move.
“You’re unbelievably sexy when you come. Your face is all rosy with ecstasy.”
“If I knew how good you were, I would have asked you to do that sooner.”
“I want you nice and wet when I enter you.”
His cock is peeking above his waistband as he gets off the bed to remove his boxers. The sight alone makes me want him inside me already. He kneels on the bed between my legs and bends down to kiss my belly, then my mound. Chase ascends my body, pulling me up to remove my bra. Then he does something that surprises me. He straddles my chest, laying his cock in between my breasts.
“Megan, have you ever done this before?”
I nod. “Are you worried that I’m frightened?”
“I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
He pushes my breasts against his length and begins to move. I bend my neck and lick at his head with each stroke, causing him to groan. Several strokes in, and he stops.
At my questioning expression, he explains, “I don’t want to come yet because I have other plans.” Letting my breasts go, he moves to the side. “Get on your side,” he says hoarsely.
I roll to the right, and he pulls my leg on top of his hip, positioning his dick at my opening. “Are you ready for me?”
I managed to squeak out a yes as he thrusts into me. A small gasp escapes my lips because he fills me so deeply. Chase starts to move his hips, saying my name with each thrust. His fingers work my clit, rubbing hard. I want this so much, and I have for almost two weeks.
He’s like an angry bull, pounding me, gyrating his hips against my ass. I’ve never been with a man that I’ve desired so much. Our climaxes come simultaneously, and he grunts as he finishes. My leg slides off his hip, but his fingers remain pressed against my pulsing clit.
“I’ve wanted you all day,” he murmurs against my neck.
“Just all day, Chase?” I tease.
“Okay, I’ve wanted you since we last had sex. Does that soothe your bruised ego?”
“It does. Thank you for saying that.”
We cuddle until sleep claims us both. Dinner goes uneaten, and, in the morning, I’m sore but satisfied. We share a cab into work, and Chase gets out a block from the office to avoid anyone seeing us.
Chapter 7
The next few weeks between us are wonderful. We get along well, and the sex is phenomenal. Chase becomes a regular at my sister’s dinner table on Friday nights. Emma got the job at Scarborough Publishing and started at the end of May. She opted for her studio apartment in The Village, which secretly made me happy not to have to share mine.
Now June is here, and things are starting to fall into place until the afternoon of the fifth. I get a call from the Human Resources Director, summoning me down to the office. Nausea churns my stomach as I worry whether they’ve found out what Chase and I are up to, but when I get there, it’s something far worse.
Doug Bannon has been suspended, pending an investigation into several sexual harassment claims at the Los Angeles office. I’m flabbergasted because I know him to be a decent man. Since I got two promotions during his tenure, HR wants to know if he approached me.
They think I blackmailed him into giving me those promotions. I’m told that the legal department will interview me so they can gather information. I leave the office feeling like I was just punched a bunch of times.
I know that Chase told me that we should have little interaction during the day unless it’s work-related, but I need him. HR’s unspoken accusations have left me shaking with anger. I head down and hope that Joan will allow me to see him. Fortunately, he’s available, and she sends me right in. Chase can see right away that there is something wrong.
“What’s the matter,” he asks worriedly.
“Did you know?” I demand my voice sharp.
“Can you be more specific?” he asks, gesturing to the seat across from his desk. I refuse to sit and instead pace the floor.
“About Doug Bannon?” I clarify.
