Waking Up Pregnant(74)

                “Darcy, glad you could come. By. To talk.” He coughed into his hand, mentally giving himself a violent shake. “Come on in.”

                Her gauzy layered skirt swung around her calves, showing off the slender turn of her ankles and hinting at the sexy length of what hid beneath.

                Pulling his door closed behind them, he ducked back out offering a quick, “Hold my calls.”

                And then Darcy had hold of his tie and was pulling him deeper into his office. Tugging at him with hands that were everywhere at once.

                “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she gasped, when he jerked his tie loose and was halfway down the buttons of his shirt. “Faster.”

                “Wrong with you? Not one damn thing,” he assured, wishing he had four hands instead of two so he could get them both naked in the next six point two seconds. Because now that she was here, he needed to make good on the promise she’d breathlessly reminded him of from the backseat of her car.

                “You said you’d take care of me.”

                Apparently she’d been at the organic market shopping for dinner when she’d started feeling restless as she’d explained it. And then she’d started thinking about his desk. The high shine airplane wing that was the prize in his collection. With him on it.

                Jeff freed the last button and started in on his fly, at which point he realized Darcy’s eyes had glazed with lust and she’d only gotten her blouse half open before abandoning the task, in lieu of watching him strip.

                Which reminded him of the night at his mother’s house...

                Slowing it down, Jeff methodically unbuckled his belt and then pulled it free of the loops.

                “What—what are you doing?” Darcy asked, the breathless tremble in her words sending blood pounding toward his groin.

                “Making you wait.” He rolled the belt and set it on the desk chair. And shrugged one shoulder out of his shirt and then the other. “Letting you watch.”

                Darcy blinked in rapid repetition, her throat making some effort at words that didn’t get past a few clicks.

                Crossing his arms to reach for opposite sides of his T-shirt, he eased it up, getting hotter and harder with every grueling second that passed of watching Darcy watch him. Yeah, slow was definitely better than fast. This time.

                He pulled the T-shirt overhead and Darcy let out a little sigh, spurring him on. His hands went to his pants, to the top button, the tab of his zipper, then lower as it traveled down, the teeth straining against his hard-on. He leaned back against his desk, shirtless, his pants open, his erection beyond the point of containment as it pushed past the top of his boxer briefs.

                “Your body,” she murmured, those smoky, soft gray eyes flitting to his for a moment of contact. “Is my very favorite plaything.”

                Shoving the briefs beneath his sac, he took himself in hand. “And you said we had nothing in common.”

                Darcy sucked a harsh breath, as he firmed his grip and rode up and down the length of his shaft with a few slow, sure strokes.

                “Oh, God,” she whimpered, wetting her lips with the sexy pink tip of her tongue. “I—I— You— I’m so—”

                “Yeah,” he groaned, “me, too. Take off your blouse for me, gorgeous.”