She cries out into her hand just as my tongue flicks against her clit. When I feel the warmth coat my fingers, I pull them out and lick them clean as I use my other hand to free my dick.
“Get on this and fuck me like you mean it,” I say, holding it out for her.
I grab her ass as she climbs up my body, just as desperate for the connection as I am. When I thrust home and I’m balls deep in her sweet honey, I push her back against the door and rut her like a prized mare.
“Goddamn, I love you, Button,” I groan, holding her tight.
“I love you, too,” she says, right before our mouths connect.
The taste of her and the smell of her combined has my big cock throbbing. It’s a tight fit and the way she’s squeezing me has my balls aching. Her thighs tighten around me and I keep kissing her to muffle her cries as she cums again on my shaft.
Every thick inch pulses with her, and I can’t hold back. I empty inside her, and just like always the connection restores us. The intimacy of what we do, even when it’s quick and dirty, with lots of dirty talk—it’s making love. Because there’s no one on this planet I love more than my wife, and I’m going to do a better job of making sure she knows it.
She giggles as I set her on her feet and pull her panties out of my pocket. “You didn’t tell me why you weren’t in your office,” she says as I hold the panties out for her and she steps into them.
“You didn’t tell me why you were all dressed up,” I say, raising an eyebrow at her.
She puts her hands on her hips, but all the aggravation from before has melted away and it’s more of a pose out of habit.
“Well?” I ask, waiting.
I tuck my cock back into my jeans and she rolls her eyes.
“I have to work late, and there’s some party across the street I have to go to. Some donors to the library are going to be there.” She walks up to me and puts her hands on my chest. “I’d rather be at home with my guys.”
“Then quit,” I say, but I can see that was the wrong answer.
She steps back, and suddenly the cold look from earlier is back. “It’s my job, Dylan. I can’t just quit. Besides, don’t you have something on your schedule to get to?”
Right when I open my mouth to respond, there’s a knock on the door.
“Emily? You in there? Sorry to bother you guys, but Mark has a question about a shipment,” Nancy says from the other side of the door.
I growl at the name. Mark. I didn’t get a chance to talk about him with Emily yet, and I can see I’m not about to get the opportunity.
“Yeah, be right out,” Emily says and then looks at me. Her eyes soften a little as she comes back into my arms. “We’ll talk about this when I get home.”
“Okay, Button,” I say, unable to stay mad.
I know I’m just going to go outside to my truck to watch her from the cameras, but it’s not the same. I want her in my arms all the time. So instead of fighting, I hug her back and kiss the top of her head.
Chapter 8
Emily
Nancy hands me a giant stack of folders. I take them, putting them onto my already overflowing desk. Clutter always drives me crazy. I hate having a mess around. You would think I might be used to it living with three boys, but I’ve trained them well.
“You’ve been holding out, girl.” Nancy smiles down at me. “That husband of yours.” She wiggles her perfect eyebrows as she leans up against the door frame.
“I know.” I shake my head.
My husband is hot. I stopped letting it bother me a long time ago that others notice him. Probably because he doesn't even notice it himself. His attention is always on me and our boys. I’m not sure he knows how good looking he really is. He pretty much rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt and jeans. He’s naturally fit from all the hands-on work he does. He’s always trying to get out of his office, preferring to be on the job site.
He has a natural ruggedness to him. He isn't even trying to be hot, but he’s pretty drool-worthy. The attention he would get from women used to annoy me. Then I realized Dylan is so focused on no guys looking at me that I’m not sure he knows other women exist.
“He was so possessive. You should have seen his face when he came in here looking for you. I can see now why you were sure he isn't cheating. That man has one focus.” She says it dreamily and I smile even bigger. I know I’m lucky.
I glance at the pile of folders Nancy handed me, and I wonder if I’ll be able to knock them out before we have to leave for the event tonight. This job is turning out to be a lot more to take on than I was hoping for. I wanted to do something that was helpful but didn’t take up all my time. I thought at the library I would be dealing with finding and putting books away. Maybe even getting to read to some of the kids who came in. But from what I can tell there don't seem to be many activities happening here. I thought about bringing that up but got scared more stuff might be piled on my already full plate. I’ve gone from having too much time on my hands to not having enough.
“Possessive is putting it lightly,” I laugh. “You think this outfit is okay for tonight?” I stand up, making sure there aren't any wrinkles after what Dylan and I did. I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning as I recall our time in the vacant office.
He wasn't wrong, though. I did wave a red flag at my husband when I tossed my panties onto his desk. I knew the moment he would see them he’d be tracking me down. There’s no way Dylan would be okay with me walking around without panties on. I’m sometimes shocked he lets me walk around without him at all. If it was up to him I’d be glued to his side. In college he would walk with me to every class. I don’t know why, though, because the first day he punched some guy and knocked him out cold for slapping my ass. After that no one on campus ever looked my way again.
“I love it. No wonder your man came tracking you down.”
I look down at my dress. Maybe it’s too sexy. I bought it for our last date night. I wanted something to get Dylan all worked up. Not that he needed any help in that area. Maybe I’m acting like a child with some of the things I’ve been doing lately. It’s a demand for attention, and I like when he goes a little crazy. I forget how possessive he can be until I do something that sets it off.
A little wave of guilt hits me, and I realize I should really talk this out with him. I wasn't even aware I was doing it until this moment. I think with things changing over the past few months I’m having trouble adjusting.
“Speaking of that, keep your visitors to your lunch break.” Nancy and I both turn to see Mark stomp into the shared office. Clearly he heard what we were talking about. He drops a few more folders onto my desk but doesn’t bother looking at me as he walks over to his own. “Are you going to get to work on this?” He motions to the pile of work on my desk.
He’s obviously peeved with me, which is bullshit. I’m helping him out with staying late and going above and beyond what my job entails. I want to tell him I’ll have visitors whenever I like. If he doesn't like it, he can shove it up his ass. But I clamp my lips shut. Yeah, like I’m going to tell Dylan he can’t pop by whenever he wants. I don’t want him burning the library down.
“I’m working on it,” I tell him, turning so my back is to him. I don’t want to look at him any more than necessary. And I don’t want him to see how annoyed I am.
Nancy rolls her eyes, clearly as aggravated as me. “I better get back to the front. Mrs. Norton is running it and she scares all the little kids.” She turns, but not before mouthing “what a dick” to me, then walks out.
Once again I’m alone with Mark. I really can’t stand him. He talks endlessly about himself. He reminds me of some of the jocks I went to high school with. I feel like I know more about him than I should, and we have only worked together a few days. I know his whole life story, and maybe if he talked less I could get more work done. It’s still not clear to me why we need to share an office. He said we’d be working on things we would need to discuss often, but he hardly talks about work. He spent thirty minutes this morning telling me about his new car.
I try to push all negative thoughts out of my mind and grab a folder so I can get to work. But not even a full minute goes by before Mark is standing next to my desk. His shadow looms over me, and for a small guy he’s always crowding me in my space.
“Was that your husband?” he asks, but I don’t look up at him as I keep working.
“Yep.”
I give him a short response, hoping that will give the message that I’m busy. I know it doesn't work when he leans against my desk, making himself more comfortable. I have to fight from tensing up. I scoot my chair over slightly, trying not to make it obvious.
“Is he always so…” he trails off.
When I finally look up at him, I’m pretty sure his eyes are locked on my cleavage. The dress doesn't really show much, but with someone standing directly over me like this, I’m sure he’s seeing more than he should be.
“What?” I ask, unsure what he means about Dylan. I didn't even know they met. Or maybe they didn't and Mark saw him bulldozing into the library looking for me. Dylan is hard to miss. His size alone makes him stand out in a crowd.