What You Need(80)
“Fucking sexy tattoos. Christ, woman, I want to sink my teeth into you.”
“Do it. Do anything you want—just don’t stop.”
“Never.”
We were both too far gone for this to last very long—that’s what weeks of foreplay will do to you.
His soft kisses on the slope of my shoulder belied the near punishing rhythm he’d set.
A roaring in my ears had my entire body clenching in anticipation. Brady’s terse “Give it to me” sent me soaring.
He followed me into that place where pleasure existed on a different plane—separate, yet together. Connected by more than just throbbing body parts.
That was the new aspect for me. Even as I silently swore I wouldn’t make my usual move and retreat, I feared that he would.
“Lennox.”
I turned my head and looked at him.
“Not done. Not even close.”
I curled my arm back and sifted my fingers through his messy hair. “Me neither.”
He held my hip as he eased out of me.
I didn’t bother to pull my panties all the way up or my skirt down as I stepped away from the desk. The molten heat in his eyes indicated I wouldn’t be wearing these clothes much longer anyway.
“Bed. Now,” he growled.
“Wait. Do you have more condoms?”
The look on his face—now I knew the definition of crestfallen.
And it thrilled me that he didn’t have condoms stashed in his dressing room.
I poked him in the chest. “Then it’s a good thing I slipped a box in my purse this morning, isn’t it?”
*
We did it in his bed. Twice.
We tried to be good in the shower, but the instant those clever hands of his were loaded with creamy soap and he started “washing” me, good clean fun was forgotten in favor of getting down and dirty. He hoisted me against the wall of the shower.
My mind went into a foggy free fall as he proved he was just as good vertically as he was horizontally.
After that we showered separately.
I was wrapped in a bedsheet when he emerged from the bathroom. Naked.
“Baby, that sheet won’t protect you if I want you.”
So cocky. “You’ve had me plenty.”
“No such thing.” I watched his tight little butt cheeks and the broad plane of his back as he rummaged in his drawer for clothing. “I needed something to sustain me for the rest of the week.”
“Why?” I picked up my clothes and started to get dressed.
“I have to go to Chicago tomorrow. I’ll be there through Friday night.”
He was going to be gone again? “I realize I never asked if you travel a lot.”
“More than I’d like to.” He studied me. “I wish you could come.”
“Doesn’t Jenna go with you?”
“No. She made it clear from the beginning she won’t travel. Not even now that her kids are older. She’s on vacation starting tomorrow since I won’t be in the office. Ash is going with me.”
“I’m sure my boss would love it if I missed a few more days this week.” I buttoned my blouse, happy to see it covered the hickey he’d left on the side of my breast. “The gossip mill would go crazy with the speculation that I’m using my relationship with you to get out of doing any real work.”
“You think I wouldn’t make you work in Chicago?” He smirked. “Taking notes for ten hours a day sound like fun?”
“Sounds better than answering phones for ten hours a day like I did yesterday.”
“Next time I’ll give you advance notice so your supervisor can clear your schedule.”
“Deal. Besides, this is the last week that Lurch and Lurchette are shadowing us, so I want to make sure it’s not perceived that I’ve screwed up.”
I noticed his shoulders stiffen. Which was weird.
“How’s that going?” he asked.
“Who knows? I suspect you’ll know before any of the rest of us will. Why?”
He shrugged into his shirt. “Rumors and such.”
“Any rumors I should be concerned about?”
“No. Just . . . there’s been some interdepartmental grumbling about abuse of power. And confidentiality rules being broken.”
“By the office temp staff? Unlikely.”
“Come on, you’re telling me you guys don’t gossip?”
“Sure. We gossip about inappropriate office outfits and we talk about our lives, but we don’t gossip about the jobs or people we’re assigned to. Lola keeps a close eye on her staff and runs a tight-lipped ship.”
“So if I ask if you’ve done work for, say, my dad . . . ?”
What was he getting at? “Depends. If he wants whatever tasks I’m doing for him kept confidential, then only Lola and I know. Lots of times when I’m working at my desk in the department, I’m doing work for another department, because they don’t want my presence in that department. Sometimes I feel more like a private investigator than clerical support.” I buttoned my skirt. “Are you asking specifics because of what Annika said?”