“What were your mother’s criteria?” she asked softly against his lips.
“What?” His eyes were unfocused, his cheeks flushed.
“The sperm donor. What were her criteria for him?”
“Tall. Good eyesight. Good bone structure.” He sounded hoarse and disoriented, and he went to kiss her again, but she pulled back a fraction.
“That’s it?”
He surged forward, ignoring the question, moving from her breasts to the buttons of her shirt to enable him to get closer. He had gotten the shirt undone and slipped it off her shoulders before she realized it. He pressed his lips to her heated skin, down her neck to the cleavage between her overstrained bra cups, nudging the fabric aside to get at a nipple, licking and then sucking. She groaned and abruptly made up her mind to let herself have this moment, this hot forbidden encounter.
What the hell? She had already given up the ghost somewhere along the way from their first kiss.
After climbing off his lap, she stood up to yank her hose down and off, along with her panties, while he watched intensely.
“You do have a condom, don’t you?” she asked.
He nodded, reaching into his back pocket and extracting his wallet, the movement emphasizing his hard-on. Unzipping her skirt and sliding it off so she was bare on the bottom, she leaned forward and unzipped his jeans as well, carefully, very carefully, while he sucked in a breath and took out the condom, flinging his wallet to the floor.
“I’m doing this because you’re so fucking hot and I want to,” she whispered. “Not because I’m giving in to any pressure because you’re my boss and you came right out and asked me to like an idiot.”
“I appreciate that.” He ripped the condom open while she grasped his hot, pulsing cock, then shoved the boxers down and climbed on top.
“Let me.” She took the condom from him and slid it down his length. “Those pilots better not come in here.”
“Well, at least one of them has to drive the plane.”
The plane lurched.
“Wow. You’re big.”
“I never, ah, measured when it’s uh—”
“Shhh.” She sat down on his now-sheathed cock, causing them both to gasp, and Talbot’s head fell back to the seat cushion, his eyes closing.
“Nice, eh, Mr. Boss Man? You like that?” She was caught between fantasy and what might be the end of a not-very-illustrious legal career. “You wanted to fuck me when you saw me, didn’t you?”
She punctuated her words by sliding up and down his pulsing length, so wet she did it easily.
“When I actually saw you, yes,” he gasped as she took him impossibly deep inside her. “I mean, not before when you were in the office because then I was just annoyed, uh, you were doing that thing with your pearls and making me—”
She kissed him, feeling her tongue rub against his, and he convulsively gripped her bottom, in a good way.
Pulling away from his lips, she murmured, “This is so bad. Sleeping with the boss. I’m such a naughty girl.”
His blue eyes glittered back at her as she moved her hips slightly in a way that made them both moan, and he wordlessly urged her to repeat the motion, his hands firmly on her cheeks, bringing her forward and then back, again and again.
“Now you’re supposed to say ‘you are a naughty girl,’” she prompted, “and threaten to spank my bare bottom.”
“Uh-uh. This is just us now, and you’re not the least bit naughty,” he said, low and sincere, and she laughed.
“No! You’re the stern boss, and I’m the naughty girl who works for you. You’re not playing right.”
“Mmmm, I’m not playing.”
The admission went right through her, stalling her for a second. She shouldn’t be, either. She shouldn’t be playing with this volatile situation, hooking up with her boss. But he slid a hand up to caress her breast and, mesmerized by the shot of pleasure, she settled back into the rhythm.
“Oh, what the hell? I could die tomorrow, you know?” Her breath came shorter as she rode him.
She came up on her knees, moving faster as he closed his eyes, kissing her neck. She was very close. Bracing her palms on the shoulders of his T-shirt—somewhere along the line he had shrugged off that hideous jacket—she finally got around to reading what it said. I’m with Stupid.
She came in an incredible burst of years of pent-up sexuality, and he shuddered against her, pulling her close while they rode it out. In the aftermath, he rubbed her back, and she listened as both their breathing slowed.
His T-shirt slogan really summed it up. Stupid. Yep, that was her all right. That had been incredibly stupid.