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“You mean,onChristmas? As in tomorrow?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I have a flight to catch tonight. I won’t be back until next week.”
He blinks a few times, repeating “next week,” as if he has to taste the words for himself.
“I could’ve sworn I told you I wasn’t granting you any time off for Christmas,” he says. “Did I not?”
“I vaguely recall that unfortunate conversation.”
“Do I need to pull out a dictionary and define what it means for you?”
“I’m two weeks ahead on my work, and I just made employee of the month for November. I don’t see why I need to stay.”
“Because your boss told you to.”
“My boss has the tendency of being an asshole sometimes, and I don’t think he honestly cares about what’s best for me.”
“I guarantee that he does.”
“Name one thing.”
“I’d rather show you.” He slides a hand around my neck and pulls me close for a kiss that leaves me gasping for air.
Fuck…
I shut my eyes as his tongue dances against mine, as he whispers, “I need your mouth to be a bit wider for me.”
I oblige, and he slips his tongue deeper. My nipples harden under my bra, and every synapse in my brain begs me to let him take this as far as he wants it to go.
Feeling entranced, I slide a hand between us, moving it past his belt buckle, right against his zipper.
He groans, and I feel his cock reacting through his pants’s fabric.
“Unbuckle them,” he whispers, and I loop my fingers through the metal buckle.
Struggling to get it loose, I pull my mouth away, but Dominic pulls me back, kissing me even harder.
Mesmerized by how dominant he is, how easily he can control me with nothing more than his mouth, I whisper, “I want to feel you inside me.”
“I want that, too.” He pushes my hand away and unbuckles his pants with ease. “Take it out so I can handle that for you…”
I skim the line of his briefs with my fingers, but reality suddenly smacks me in the face.
What the hell am I doing?I push him away from me as hard as I can, and he glares at me.
“I…I have a boyfriend.” I shake my head. “And you have Amy.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.”
“You’re myboss.”
“We need to discuss that, too.” He steps forward as if he’s about to kiss me again, but I move left and open the door.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I leave the office and stumble down the emergency stairwell, hailing the first cab that comes my way.
As I slip onto the backseat, my lips tingle and beg me to return and get another taste, but I resist.
“Can you take me to Montrose, please?” I say to the driver.
