that.
She gasped. “Oh, your tongue is right there. I’m wiggling so much…it’s too much…you won’t stop…I can’t stop…it’s too strong…I’m…coming…help me….”
And then there were frantic breaths and a cry and he only hoped no one was anywhere near her desk, because the sounds were unmistakable. He surged against his zipper, but managed to hold back somehow, wanting to hear what she would say.
“That was good,” she breathed, sounding barely collected. “Did you…?”
“Not yet.”
“This is no time to be a gentleman, Cole. Ladies don’t have to be first.” She laughed softly. “Okay, I’m walking over to you now…I’m behind your desk…”
Yes, he could picture her. He tightened his grip.
“I’m shoving your chair back so I can get at you…I’m on my knees…putting you in my mouth….”
“Oh, yeah.” He loved the picture of her bending to him, her pretty lips round, opening, sliding onto him, wet and warm.
“You taste salty and warm and…so good. Mmm.”
Laughter and talk rose in the hall outside his office.
“Stop,” he ground out. “There are people…” Damn.
“I can wait a bit.”
“It’s too busy now.” Trevor or Tuttleman could pop in midstroke.
“I guess associates on a partner track can’t go around with wet splotches on their slacks,” she said sadly. “But I can’t leave you like that…all swollen…and hard…and sore.” She dragged out the words like Nurse Feel Good asking where it hurt. “It’s cruel…almost dangerous…you could hurt yourself.”
“Good point. I sure as hell can’t walk now.”
“Whose place can we get to faster?” She spoke in such a practical tone, he was caught off guard.
“I’m forty minutes from mine, thirty from yours.” Blood pounded in his head—and everywhere else.
“My place it is.”
“Are you sure?” What was he saying? He had a ton of work.
“If you take the Fifty-One, you can make it in twenty-five.”
“Twenty if I speed. I’m there.”
He shoved a bunch of work into his briefcase and disappeared down the back stairs so no one saw him leave before five. He refused to have second thoughts. They’d be fast and he’d be home in time for Radar’s potty break, clearheaded, relaxed and full of energy. This was smart, forward-thinking…
Insane. He was doing it anyway.
7
T HE INSTANT she got inside her town house, Kylie ditched her underwear, so she’d be as naked beneath her suit as she’d told Cole she was in their phone fantasy. He’d be here any second, so she only had time to brush her teeth. Hands shaking, she jiggled paste on her toothbrush. This is crazy.
Even working nonstop she could barely keep up with Personal Touch and her final client work, not to mention the S-Mickey-B Home Town Suites project she’d agreed to work on from Phoenix.
But you have to have him.
She did. She was wound tight and ticking, coiled to spring, loaded to explode, but only on contact with Cole. She had to do something about that, didn’t she?
Didn’t they say you should manage energy, not time, and if you restored your energy, you got more work out of each moment? Right? Right? Oh, shut up. No way was she sending Cole away, no matter what the time management gurus said.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her flushed face, glazed eyes and toothpaste-foamed mouth made her look completely mad. She was mad.
But when the doorbell rang a second later, her entire body sang with joy. She rinsed, slammed her toothbrush into its holder and raced to let him in.
There he stood in her home, button-down shirt open at the collar, tie hanging, hair mussed, panting as though he’d run all the way. His eyes looked so desperate for her that her knees turned to water.
She noticed a briefcase dangling from one hand. “You brought work?”
“In case we take a break.” He threw it down and yanked her into his arms in a way that told her it would be a long while before they breathed, let alone
She gasped. “Oh, your tongue is right there. I’m wiggling so much…it’s too much…you won’t stop…I can’t stop…it’s too strong…I’m…coming…help me….”
And then there were frantic breaths and a cry and he only hoped no one was anywhere near her desk, because the sounds were unmistakable. He surged against his zipper, but managed to hold back somehow, wanting to hear what she would say.
“That was good,” she breathed, sounding barely collected. “Did you…?”
“Not yet.”
“This is no time to be a gentleman, Cole. Ladies don’t have to be first.” She laughed softly. “Okay, I’m walking over to you now…I’m behind your desk…”
Yes, he could picture her. He tightened his grip.
“I’m shoving your chair back so I can get at you…I’m on my knees…putting you in my mouth….”
“Oh, yeah.” He loved the picture of her bending to him, her pretty lips round, opening, sliding onto him, wet and warm.
“You taste salty and warm and…so good. Mmm.”
Laughter and talk rose in the hall outside his office.
“Stop,” he ground out. “There are people…” Damn.
“I can wait a bit.”
“It’s too busy now.” Trevor or Tuttleman could pop in midstroke.
“I guess associates on a partner track can’t go around with wet splotches on their slacks,” she said sadly. “But I can’t leave you like that…all swollen…and hard…and sore.” She dragged out the words like Nurse Feel Good asking where it hurt. “It’s cruel…almost dangerous…you could hurt yourself.”
“Good point. I sure as hell can’t walk now.”
“Whose place can we get to faster?” She spoke in such a practical tone, he was caught off guard.
“I’m forty minutes from mine, thirty from yours.” Blood pounded in his head—and everywhere else.
“My place it is.”
“Are you sure?” What was he saying? He had a ton of work.
“If you take the Fifty-One, you can make it in twenty-five.”
“Twenty if I speed. I’m there.”
He shoved a bunch of work into his briefcase and disappeared down the back stairs so no one saw him leave before five. He refused to have second thoughts. They’d be fast and he’d be home in time for Radar’s potty break, clearheaded, relaxed and full of energy. This was smart, forward-thinking…
Insane. He was doing it anyway.
7
T HE INSTANT she got inside her town house, Kylie ditched her underwear, so she’d be as naked beneath her suit as she’d told Cole she was in their phone fantasy. He’d be here any second, so she only had time to brush her teeth. Hands shaking, she jiggled paste on her toothbrush. This is crazy.
Even working nonstop she could barely keep up with Personal Touch and her final client work, not to mention the S-Mickey-B Home Town Suites project she’d agreed to work on from Phoenix.
But you have to have him.
She did. She was wound tight and ticking, coiled to spring, loaded to explode, but only on contact with Cole. She had to do something about that, didn’t she?
Didn’t they say you should manage energy, not time, and if you restored your energy, you got more work out of each moment? Right? Right? Oh, shut up. No way was she sending Cole away, no matter what the time management gurus said.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her flushed face, glazed eyes and toothpaste-foamed mouth made her look completely mad. She was mad.
But when the doorbell rang a second later, her entire body sang with joy. She rinsed, slammed her toothbrush into its holder and raced to let him in.
There he stood in her home, button-down shirt open at the collar, tie hanging, hair mussed, panting as though he’d run all the way. His eyes looked so desperate for her that her knees turned to water.
She noticed a briefcase dangling from one hand. “You brought work?”
“In case we take a break.” He threw it down and yanked her into his arms in a way that told her it would be a long while before they breathed, let alone
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