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His Secretary:Undone(40)

By:Melanie Marchande


I take a deep breath.

"I love you, Adrian. I sincerely hope you won't hold that against me."

He chuckles softly, and some deep sense of relief bursts inside my chest.

"You know what this is going to be like, right?" He kisses my forehead.  "We're going to fight all the time. When there's nothing to fight about,  we're going to fight about how long it's been since we had a fight."

"Uh huh." I snuggle against him. "And then we'll fuck it out of our systems and start over the next day."

"Sounds exhausting."

"I hope you're up for it." I grin, lifting my face up to his, and he meets me halfway. Our noses brush against each other.

"The real question is, are you?" He slides his hand down to the small of  my back, a gentle possessive touch. "The noises you were making  earlier, I thought you were gonna pass out. Or maybe expel a demon. Are  you sure you can take that kind of stress every day?"         

     



 

"You're so fucking pleased with yourself." I hook my leg around his hip,  feeling him twitch and harden at the silent invitation. "I swear to  God, it's like you never made a girl come before."

With a sudden burst of movement, he flips me onto my back, and I squeal  with surprise and laughter, only to feel my voice break into a moan as  he slides into me again, so slow and perfect. Five heartbeats pass  before he's buried deep, and I let out a throaty laugh, my head thrown  back into the pillows.

"Promise me you'll never stop talking to me like that," he whispers, not moving. Not yet.

"I promise." I swallow hard, feeling like my heart's about to escape from my chest. "So long as you never stop doing this."

"Like I could." He smiles, starting to move in a slow, deliberate  rhythm. My whole body tenses, and I whimper softly, wanting so much  more, harder, faster.

"Is this okay, baby?" He looks at me with concern. He thinks I'm still  sore. Ha. Well, I am, not that's not the problem. It's a sweet ache, and  it makes everything even better.

"Yeah," I whisper. "More." And that makes him smile.

"I gotta be gentle with you from time to time, sweetheart." He kisses me  swiftly. "Otherwise you won't appreciate it when I'm rough."

Curling my fingers around the back of his neck, I pull his face to mine.  "Listen to me. This is very important. Okay? I want you to know this."  My breath catches in my throat as my body warms and melts to him. I  whisper into his mouth: "You. Are. The. Worst."

"I am," he murmurs against my lips. "But at least I love you."





Chapter Nineteen





INBOX





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Face down, ass up.





I'll be home in an hour.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Okay, Pitbull.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - Summer of 69 - Bryan Adams





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) - Meat Loaf





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - Liar - Mumford and Sons





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - She's Playing Hard to Get - Hi-Five





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - Give Me Everything - Pitbull (ft. Ne-Yo, Afrojack, Nayer)





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





And we've come full circle.





Hurry home, baby. I'm … uh … what's the wine term for when a vintage is ready to drink?





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Open.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Seriously? I regret starting this metaphor. That sounds filthy.





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Well, are you?





From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]





Why don't you get your ass over here and find out?

***

INBOX - AUTO REFRESHED 1 MINUTE AGO

(LAST MANUAL REFRESH 2 HOURS AGO)





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To: [email protected]





LINK: YouTube - I Just Had Sex - The Lonely Island (feat. Akon)





Chapter Twenty





Adrian





In the end, it's those dimples that do me in.

Six months, we've been dating, and I know that's not enough time. But  after five years of foreplay, I'm chomping at the bit. I have dreams  about our wedding. Yes - me. Six foot four, fine Italian suits, vicious  in the boardroom, drinks bourbon at lunch and looks like he's fucked his  way through the Agent Provocateur catalog. I now dream in taffeta and  fondant flowers.

It's absolutely disgusting.

Helpful, though, for my new job. I'm not pretending to be a woman  anymore, but I find readers like me better this way. I've still got an  edge, but it's that soft romantic side that keeps people coming back. I  actually write a lot slower now, since I'm not trying to cram it in  between "real work." I'm more thoughtful about it. I've confessed to the  world that Amanda was inspired by a wonderful woman I know, the love of  my life. Every day, there are teasing comments on Facebook asking when  I'm going to propose.         

     



 

Soon, I tell them. Soon.

There are wedding bells for Dirk and Amanda in the very near future. And after that, of course, a baby.

And for me?

God. I don't know. But I think I caught Meghan cooing over some baby  Halloween costumes on Pinterest the other day. She played it off like it  wasn't baby fever, and informed me that baby fever is a sexist and  insulting concept anyway, scowled at me, and went back to the board of  hot men in suits. I don't know why she needs to look at hot men in suits  on the internet, but then she doesn't question my browsing habits,  thank God. So I let it go.

It doesn't scare me, though. The baby thing. Not nearly as much as I think it should.

A few weeks after she moved in, Meg was laid off. She never particularly  liked the job she took after I fired her, and now she spends most of  her time down at the animal shelter she convinced me to save. There's a  rumor going around that the owner will retire soon, and I think we both  know where that's going.

I don't really mind that she comes home smelling like a kennel, because she's never looked happier.

Over dinner, I ask her when she can get a few weeks off from her work  there. She's going for another bottle of wine and she stops by my chair,  kissing me on the cheek.

"What's that for?"

She smiles as she jams in the corkscrew. "Thank you for talking about it like it matters."

"Of course it matters." I set my fork down. "What, do you expect me to  make fun of you for not having a real job? You're not my employee  anymore, you're my girlfriend. A certain level of common courtesy is  required."

She's laughing. "Oh yeah, did you learn that from Miss Manners? That's sweet."

"You know, when you thank me for acting like a human being, it makes me wonder how low the bar really is."

"It's just positive reinforcement, dear." She offers me some of the wine, but I shake my head.

"So if I get a kiss on the cheek for not making fun of your charity  work, what do I get for taking you to Hawaii for our anniversary?" I  grab her hand before she has a chance to react, pulling her close enough  to surround her waist and pull her into my lap. She was self-conscious  the first few times, but now, she settles in like a house cat.

Her eyes light up, but she's in one of those bratty moods. I can tell already. "And what anniversary would that be?"

"Six months." I know where this is going, and my palm is already itching to swat her.

Later. Soon.

But it's so blatantly obvious that she wants it. God damn it, I'm trying to be tender for once.

"You know what the word anniversary means, right?" She rests her  forehead against mine, wiggling in my lap. I've been thinking about this  all day, and I was half-hard as soon as I touched her. Now, there's  nothing half about it. "I'll give you a hint, it's the same root as  annual. As in, yearly. Not six-months-ly."

"You know, a good girlfriend would already be on her knees by now." I  pull her in tighter, nibbling on the side of her neck. She shrieks a  little, trying to shimmy out of my grasp. She's got a terribly sensitive  spot just under her ear, and I love to take advantage of it.

"Oh, but you like me so much better when I'm bad." Meg smooths my tie  absently, glancing up at me from under her lashes. "Better than a kiss  on the cheek, isn't it?"

My dick twitches in agreement.

I chuckle softly, as her hands roam across my chest and try to work  their way under my belt without undoing it. "So that's what I get, for  being a thoughtful, wonderful boyfriend? A spoiled little brat?"