Page 97 of Breaking Hollywood

“I get off the clock and onto your cock.”

Laughter bursts from him. “That’s one way of putting it. So, what do you think?”

I tap my finger to my lips. “Will that work for you though? Because, even when you’re not paying me, technically, you’ll still be my boss.”

“I can live with that. So long as we’re screwing off the clock.”

I smile. “Okay then. I accept your proposition to have sex off the clock.”

He grins seductively. “And you keep living here.”

“Yes.”

“And sleeping in my bed.”

“Yes, Gabe.” I lean in and press my lips to his, silencing him.

His fingers slide into my hair, his mouth humming a sound of appreciation.

The kiss quickly deepens into something more.

“I want you,” he says against my mouth.

“You already have me.”

And he does. He has all of me.

“You look good in my shirt,” he murmurs. “But I prefer you out of it.”

His hands find the hem of his T-shirt, and he pulls it over my head.

“No bra. I like.” He runs his finger between my cleavage. “New house rule: No bras will be worn in the apartment.”

“That go for working hours?”

His eyes meet mine, a dirty glint in them. “Definitely.”

“You sure? I know how easily you get distracted by my girls.”

“Um, I think you’ll find they’re mine now.” He cups my breasts in his hands and lazily rubs his thumbs over my nipples.

Lust bolts straight to my clit.

“Yours?”

“Yep. I licked them, so they’re mine.”

I laugh loudly. “I don’t think it actually works like that.”

He lifts a brow. “I think you’ll find that it does. And possession is nine-tenths of the law.” He provocatively gives them a squeeze. “So, yep, they’re definitely mine. And I’m going to name them.”

“Okay, Master of My Boobs, what are you going to call them?”

He stares at my breasts and then pushes them together. “Pinky and Perky.”

Another shot of laughter flies from my mouth. “Pinky and Perky? God, you’re odd and a little bit crazy.”

He grins up at me. “Just crazy about my girls.” Then, he presses his face into my boobs and starts to motorboat them.