He uses one hand to brace himself over me, the other holding my hip to keep me in place for his hard thrusts.
“I can’t seem to get enough of you. Get close enough. I keep thinking if I have more, some of this obsession will cool. But I think it’s only growing,” he rasps in my ear. I clench around him at his words, getting off on being his obsession.
“You like it, don’t you? Knowing how fucking crazy I am for you. That I can’t breathe without you.”
“Yes,” I admit. The word falls past my lips before I realize it. I didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“I love you.” He says the words, and it sparks my orgasm, sending me over. I feel his release deep inside me, and the warmth of him and his love fills me.
“I love you, too,” I say, not trying to hold back anymore. I don’t want to fight this. I don’t care how crazy everything is. I’m only complete when I’m with him. Like I’m finally whole. If Oz wants to consume me, I think I might let him.
He jerks against me. “Say it again.”
“I love you.” It comes so easily from my lips because it feels right. Perfect.
He nuzzles against me, and I don’t know how long we lie there, but he gets hard again.
“Oz.” I wiggle beneath him, knowing I should get back to my desk and figure out what I need to be doing.
He slips free from me, moaning as he does. The mixture of our passion coats my thighs as my panties slide back into place. His hand runs along them, then cups my pussy before pulling my dress back down to cover me.
I watch him as he rights his own clothes, tucking his still-hard cock back into his slacks, then straightening his shirt and tie. The sight has me wanting to pull him back on top of me. He looks like he had hard, rough sex in a hurry, which I guess he did. I like the idea that it was me who gave him that look.
“You keep looking at me like that and you’re never getting out of here.” He stares down at me with that familiar hungry expression. I giggle and jump up, looking down to make sure my dress is in place and I don’t look like I had sex in his office.
I move toward the door, but he grabs me by the wrist, pulling me back to him. Then he plants a kiss on my mouth that knocks the wind out of me. I don’t know how he does it, but with each kiss it’s like he’s devouring me, but doing so with infinitely soft sweetness.
All too soon he’s pulling away.
“Go, or we’ll be back on the couch.” I hear the locks click on the door, and I make my escape, heading back to my new office, where Skyler is once again typing away on the computer at her desk. Her head pops up when she hears me enter.
“I’ve got so many ideas!” she says, popping up from her chair as I make my way over to my new desk and sit down. I have to admit it’s nice not being in a cubicle anymore. The first thing I notice is a picture of Oz and me on my desk. It’s from the weekend. I’m lying in bed, half-asleep on his chest. I don’t even remember him taking it. It makes me smile that he thought to do something so adorable, and I wonder if he has one on his desk, too.
I open my top drawer to see if I have a notepad, but slam it shut when Skyler leans up against my desk. Oh, God, I hope she didn’t see what was inside—a freaking copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting! She cocks her head to the side, clearly knowing I was trying to hide something.
Then she glances at my desk and picks up the framed picture. She studies it for a moment.
“People are whispering,” she says, putting the picture back down. “I think it’s better we’re up here, even without the kick-ass project.”
I groan, thinking about the office gossip, but it is what it is. Our relationship was bound to come out sooner or later.
“How bad is it?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“The gossip’s not really about you. More about Miles,” she admits, piquing my interest. “Guess the word is Mr. Osbourne doesn’t date. Like, ever.”
I think back to all the times Oz has whispered to me how long he’s waited for me. That there has never been anyone since the moment he saw me. If that were the case, then I could see people saying that.
“And how he is with you. Or what people have caught anyway.” She drops her eyes, like she doesn’t want to say the next part too loud. “He’s always been kind of cold and never even cracked a smile. Now he’s walking around dreamy-eyed.”
“He is not.” I laugh. I’m not sure I’d call Oz’s eyes dreamy. Intense, sure. Okay, maybe they’re soft and sweet a lot, but I like the idea that I’m the one getting that from him. That I’m the only one who can do it. The thought makes my stomach flutter for the millionth time today.