Just a Number(111)
I push on his chest, forcing him to take a step back and keeping him an arm’s length away before I walk forward, forcing him back toward his chair. He falls into it, looking up at me as I slowly open my jacket. “Want to see what I bought with the rest of that gift card you gave me for Christmas?”
He nods, swallowing thickly.
Reveling in the effect I have on him, I open my jacket and toss it on one of the chairs. His eyes move down my body, drinking in the sight before him. Along with the black and red bra I bought, I got a matching set of panties and a garter belt that currently holds up the sheer black thigh-highs I’m wearing. His eyes move down to my feet to find the red heels he bought me for the masquerade ball, and he exhales a shaky breath.
“Jesus, Amelia.” He reaches down and adjusts himself beneath his pants. He’s hard already, and I hold back a moan when a dull throb settles between my legs.
“You like?”
Speechless, he reaches out for me, but I push his hand away. “Just wait,” I instruct, falling to my knees in front of him, behind the desk and hidden from view. I start to pull his belt free, and he lets me, his eyes wild and excited. I’m just about to undo his pants when Owen stops me.
“What’s wrong? Do you not want…?”
Owen smiles. “Oh, I want,” he assures me, reaching for his phone and pushing a button. “Laura, I’m in a very important meeting and am not to be disturbed for anything. Hold all my calls.”
“Will do, Mr. Cavanaugh,” Laura replies sweetly over the intercom.
He disconnects the call—even double-checking to make sure—and then nods for me to continue. “Proceed, sweetheart.”
“Before I do,” I say seductively as I slowly lower his zipper and tug the front of his pants open. “I’m curious as to whether or not you’ve ever done this before? In your office with all those people out there.”
Owen shakes his head slowly, watching my hand as it pulls the waist of his underwear down. He shifts slightly so I can pull them out of the way further, and within seconds, my hand is wrapped around him and pumping him slowly. “You?”
He groans as I take a languid stroke up his length, and I look up at him through my lashes. “Nope. This would be a first for me, as well,” I whisper before lowering my face and taking him in my mouth.
“Oh, shit,” Owen moans, his hips moving up off his chair slightly as I take in his entire length. I move up and down in his lap, alternating speed and pressure used. His fingers wind into the length of my hair, gathering it away from my face and setting my pace. I let him, because I kind of love it when he controls me this way. He’s taking his own pleasure in his hands, and it drives me wild.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans, and I look up at him through my lashes again to see his eyes locked on me.
Like every other time the two of us have given in to our desires, nothing else seems to matter. I can hear voices in the hall outside his office, but I ignore it, choosing to focus solely on Owen and the way he’s looking at me. The throb between my legs builds as Owen continues to guide me faster, then slower, and I press them together in an effort to quell it.
Closing my eyes, I release a moan. Owen’s close; I can feel it in the way he tightens his grip in my hair, the pulling sensation making my body tingle. I’m so wet and ready for him to bend me over his desk and fu—
“He said he wasn’t to be disturbed,” I hear Laura say.
I pull my mouth from Owen’s cock quickly and look up at him. It’s clear he’s lost to his pleasure for another second before glancing down at me and seeing the panic in my eyes. “Amel—”
Before he can even say my name, the door to his office flies open, and I scoot under his desk. Owen swings his chair around so fast, his knee collides with my shoulder, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He pulls himself right up to his desk to conceal his erection from our unwelcome company, and I hold my breath, waiting for the fallout, because there’s no way we weren’t just busted.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Owen demands.
“I came here to tell you one last time that I won’t sign the papers, so you can tell Stephen to back the hell off.”
Fucking Gretchen. My blood boils beneath my skin, and I’m tempted to shove my way out from under this desk and tell her exactly where to go and how to get there.
Then I remember what I’m wearing and rethink that plan.
Then I remember what I’m wearing and rethink that plan. It would serve her right to know what the two of us had been up to right before she just stormed in.