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“Isn’t the point of getting kinky in an office to like, I don’t know, get bent over the desk?”
Razai moved closer to me. “It’s not always about the position. He could make that work if he wanted to.”
“Oh?”
“See how her hips are falling off the edge? He should just lift her ass. That way, her legs can rest on his shoulders. He’s completely blocking her movement.”
“Should I sub you in?”
“Would you like that?”
It was meant to be teasing, but the way his voice dropped to a low rumble made me wish he wasn’t so fucking close. But that would just be admitting he had an effect on me.
And that couldn’t be true.
I wouldn’t let it.
He continued, “I’ll give you the next best thing, Detective.” His quiet voice drifted closer to my ear. The heady smell of him filled my nose as he said, “If I were him, I wouldn’t even be fucking this soon. My focus would still be between her thighs. Only an idiot would skip that meal.”
Breath was as possible as spontaneously sprouting horns. “Good… for you,” I managed, fighting the image of him on his knees, head bent.
“I’m serious,” he pressed. “The man didn’t deliver any foreplay at all. She at least tried with him by touching his cock. Hopefully, she’d been warmed up by the time he pushed inside her.”
“The quickie exists for a reason,” I reminded.
“They’re not being nearly rough enough for a quickie. No, I think this is Cole’s regular performance.”
Rough enough.
Those words rang in my mind along with the scenario of getting slammed against the wall, clothes torn.
Godsdamn.
“In any case,” Razai said, “he’s not even taking full advantage of her pleasure now. He could be gripping her right here.” He caressed the curves of my waist. “Or pressing his hand here.” One hand drifted around me, and down, down. He traced his finger across my panty line. “Trapping her between his cock and his hand, making her feel every stroke more intensely.”
“You should give her an application after this,” I suggested, my eyes squeezed shut as I struggled to control the waves of desire rushing through me.
Even though my back was to him, I sensed the wicked smile. “Again, you need to learn to live in the rhetorical, Detective. Students aren’t an interest of mine. Everyone else is fair game, of course. Professors, board members, administrators, counselors… community coordinators,” he trailed.
I swallowed hard. “At least you have some standards.”
“It’s interesting how rattled you are. Even your jokes are bad.”
I wanted to say that his words didn’t affect me, but then I’d be lying. That evidence was hard to ignore. The dampness between my thighs wasn’t sweat, and I certainly wasn’t getting excited by Cole Highland thrusting mindlessly ten feet away.
Not when all I could think about was the man behind me. The kiss of his breath on my neck. The way he inched closer just now—he had, hadn’t he? Or was I just hoping?
Two can play at this game, though. Shock and lust couldn’t keep me from giving him something to suffer through.
My foot slid back, and I shifted my weight toward Razai. Again, my body met his, but he didn’t budge. Not with the wall he leaned against. I whispered, “Sorry. Archangels aren’t my type. You’re welcome to try and argue.” My blood hummed where we touched. My shoulders, spine, my hips.
For a moment, he stood stock-still.
In the next, everything changed.
The sudden grip on my waist told me he’d been itching to dig his fingers in. He spun me, and the small gasp that escaped would probably haunt my pride forever.
Every part of my form molded and curved into his. My chest pressed against him, nipples peaked. His hand slid down the curve of my arching spine, pulling me closer and closer, locking me against his hard cock.
