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Authors: Abbie Cole
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way camouflaging the curvy lines of my body. It’s taking quite a bit of effort as I finally lift my gaze to his face and fix it there.
“Why are you so worried?”
I frown. “They’re firing everyone at work, Brandon.”
I can see him thinking about it. “So?”
“You don’t seem to understand”—I make a sweeping gesture—“I cannot afford to be jobless.”
“Kayla, I know that you’re worried, but you haven’t been fired yet.” Easing up, he relaxes against the couches raised back. “You haven’t even been threatened with being terminated. You’re one of the best copy editors they have.”
A sound suddenly escapes from me that suspiciously sounds like a snort. Folding my arms as I lean back against the window frame, I study him. “Well, I hope they feel the same as you do.” I chuckle.
Inclining his head. “I’m sure they do.”
I nod determinedly. “Hopefully.” I walk back to the couch. “That’s why I need to go back to the office, to get some more work done.” Pausing beside the couch, by his side, I look down at him, into his eyes. “You understand.”
Watching as Brandon’s face begins to harden he reaches out for my hand. “I understand why you feel as you do.” But instead of letting me go, he yanks me down to the couch, down into his arms, drawing me to him and kissing me, crushing my mouth with his. Readily, I put aside our discussion and respond, enthusiastically and eagerly to experience more.
He is right; I realize that they haven’t threatened me as of yet. This being the case, there really isn’t any reason for me to return to the office. But…there are other issues to consider, such as whether, no matter how persuasive he is, will I decide to remain with him for the rest of the day.
That, however, doesn’t have to be decided right now. This afternoon…I will follow his lead, set the matter aside, and devote myself to more immediate issues, much more pleasurable ones.
Drawing me to him, he devotes himself to conquering me.
This, at least, is what I hope his intention is, as he tenses up he rolls me beneath him, I pull back from our kiss. Pushing back; planting my hands on his chest, I brace my arms as I rise above him in the deepening dark. “I don’t want to think anymore.” My mouth swollen, my breath coming in ragged puffs of air.
He’s already parted my long legs and drawn my knees high, has already caressed the swollen flesh between my thighs to slick readiness, so as I push back I am straddling his abdomen, and my musky scent swirls around us …I am already aching, tense with the expectation of him sinking his throbbing cock into my welcoming heat.
Having to catch my breath, I clench my jaw holding my breath for a moment, only long enough to discover what my new task will be. Deciding whether or not I am going to permit him to take control, or not.
Upright, I sink down, my well-toned thighs, golden brown against his even darker skin, gripping his sides, my calves tucking along his flanks as I settle astride him. My gaze locks on his chest. I press my hands, fingers spread, across, sweeping from the center outward, tracing the wide muscled bands, then sweeping farther, over his shoulders and along and down his arms; I follow them to his wrists and lock my fingers around them.
Lifting both wrists, I raise them, leaning forward, and press them back until his hands are pressing against the soft cushion of the upper edge of the couch.
“Keep your hands there.” I issue the order, not even bothering to look and see if he obeys. Releasing his hands, I return my attention to his magnificent chest.
I can only imagine the intense look that must be etched on my face, intent, focused yet still considering, still planning. I watch as his palms curl over the cushions.
“Don’t move them unless I give you permission.” I suppress a smirk at my commanding tone; pleased with how in control
“Why are you so worried?”
I frown. “They’re firing everyone at work, Brandon.”
I can see him thinking about it. “So?”
“You don’t seem to understand”—I make a sweeping gesture—“I cannot afford to be jobless.”
“Kayla, I know that you’re worried, but you haven’t been fired yet.” Easing up, he relaxes against the couches raised back. “You haven’t even been threatened with being terminated. You’re one of the best copy editors they have.”
A sound suddenly escapes from me that suspiciously sounds like a snort. Folding my arms as I lean back against the window frame, I study him. “Well, I hope they feel the same as you do.” I chuckle.
Inclining his head. “I’m sure they do.”
I nod determinedly. “Hopefully.” I walk back to the couch. “That’s why I need to go back to the office, to get some more work done.” Pausing beside the couch, by his side, I look down at him, into his eyes. “You understand.”
Watching as Brandon’s face begins to harden he reaches out for my hand. “I understand why you feel as you do.” But instead of letting me go, he yanks me down to the couch, down into his arms, drawing me to him and kissing me, crushing my mouth with his. Readily, I put aside our discussion and respond, enthusiastically and eagerly to experience more.
He is right; I realize that they haven’t threatened me as of yet. This being the case, there really isn’t any reason for me to return to the office. But…there are other issues to consider, such as whether, no matter how persuasive he is, will I decide to remain with him for the rest of the day.
That, however, doesn’t have to be decided right now. This afternoon…I will follow his lead, set the matter aside, and devote myself to more immediate issues, much more pleasurable ones.
Drawing me to him, he devotes himself to conquering me.
This, at least, is what I hope his intention is, as he tenses up he rolls me beneath him, I pull back from our kiss. Pushing back; planting my hands on his chest, I brace my arms as I rise above him in the deepening dark. “I don’t want to think anymore.” My mouth swollen, my breath coming in ragged puffs of air.
He’s already parted my long legs and drawn my knees high, has already caressed the swollen flesh between my thighs to slick readiness, so as I push back I am straddling his abdomen, and my musky scent swirls around us …I am already aching, tense with the expectation of him sinking his throbbing cock into my welcoming heat.
Having to catch my breath, I clench my jaw holding my breath for a moment, only long enough to discover what my new task will be. Deciding whether or not I am going to permit him to take control, or not.
Upright, I sink down, my well-toned thighs, golden brown against his even darker skin, gripping his sides, my calves tucking along his flanks as I settle astride him. My gaze locks on his chest. I press my hands, fingers spread, across, sweeping from the center outward, tracing the wide muscled bands, then sweeping farther, over his shoulders and along and down his arms; I follow them to his wrists and lock my fingers around them.
Lifting both wrists, I raise them, leaning forward, and press them back until his hands are pressing against the soft cushion of the upper edge of the couch.
“Keep your hands there.” I issue the order, not even bothering to look and see if he obeys. Releasing his hands, I return my attention to his magnificent chest.
I can only imagine the intense look that must be etched on my face, intent, focused yet still considering, still planning. I watch as his palms curl over the cushions.
“Don’t move them unless I give you permission.” I suppress a smirk at my commanding tone; pleased with how in control
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