Page 33

Dustin

H ot dogs, getting punched in the face, losing… Reciting things I hate isn’t helping distract me from the vision on the other side of the glass. I knew she was coming—Mitch texted letting me know she was in the building—but damn, I was not prepared for the dress. Burnt-orange fabric skims her curves and each step she takes reveals a peek at her pale freckled skin.

“Are we still on for lunch?” Blanche asks, reminding me she’s still here. The minute Tina stepped off the elevator, no one else existed. Normally, I’d be down to share a meal with Blanche, but it feels like a timer is set on my time with Tina, and I want to spend every free second with her.

I force myself to look away from Tina and meet Blanche’s stare. I place my hand over hers on the desk. “I think I’ll stick around here today. I need to get caught up on some work.”

Blanche opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Tina bursts into the office, shoulders square, lips pinched, and fire in her eyes—eyes glued to my hand still on top of Blanche’s. I smile. God, I’ve missed her.

Blanche retrieves her files and leaves with a friendly hello to Tina, who returns the greeting with a curt nod. Tina drapes the stack of plastic-wrapped clothes over one of the chairs, and her skirt does this distracting swish around her lower half before settling. I pull my gaze away from her ass when she tosses a receipt on the desktop. “I hope you don’t mind, but I tipped the cleaners a little extra.”

I nearly choke when I see the amount. “Generous of you.”

Her lips twitch like she’s fighting hard not to laugh. “What can I say, I’m a giver.”

She moves beside me, mimicking Blanche’s earlier pose, and slaps the credit card down on top of the desk. She smells like coffee and fresh air. Whenever she’s within reach, I have a one-track mind and there’s no derailing it this time. I pick up the card, spinning it in my hand. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” I touch the card’s hard edge to her hip, skimming down her thigh until I reach her bare knee. “So creamy. Spread your legs for me, mouse. Show me how much of a giver you are.”

Her gulp is loud in the otherwise quiet office. For a moment I think she’ll refuse. I lift my gaze to hers, ready to remind her of our deal if I have to, but then she slowly parts her legs. Pleased, I trail the card up her inner thigh, lifting the skirt as I go. She quivers at my touch. Or was that me? I’m so amped it’s hard to tell. She rests back on her palms, giving me more access, and her tits settle with the move.

“You make my mouth water, mouse.” With my free hand, I lower my zipper to help ease the ache building. She follows the move with her hungry eyes and her tongue drags along her lower lip. “Easy,” I grind out as I slip the card over her panties and use the flat of it to flick her clit. “I’m barely holding on as it is.”

A tortured moan escapes her. She bites her lip, lifting her hips to chase the card when I pull back. “Dusty…”

“Say it,” I demand when she cuts herself off. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to touch me.”

I drop the card and nudge the crotch of the lacy panties to the side with my fingers. “Did you wear these sexy things for me?” At the first touch of flesh to flesh we both groan so loud, if there are employees about, they won’t need to see to know what is happening in here. “God, you’re soaked.” She’s getting my fingers good and wet. “Did you have fun dragging Mitch around, avoiding me?”

“Shut up.”

I laugh. “I bet you’d like my silver tongue right here.” I drag circles around and around her opening with a knuckle, watching as more of her wetness weeps.

Her thigh tenses under my arm and she growls. “Just hurry up before someone comes.” I open my mouth to tell her we’ll be the ones coming soon, but she places a finger to my lips. “Don’t ruin this.”

God, she’s so fucking hot like this. “Bossy looks good on you, peach.” I’m too busy pumping my dick with my right hand and stroking between her legs with my left, I can’t stop the old nickname from slipping out. I never thought I was ambidextrous before, but her swelling clit and my tingling spine say I’m damn good at using both of my hands.

“Inside.” She gives up talking, using her own hand to direct me where she needs me to go. The second she shoves two of my fingers in her, I curl them, stroking along the spongy spot inside. Her spine goes rigid and she slams her thighs shut. “Holy shit,” she pants and the walls of her cunt begin to pulse.

Watching Tina come on camera is nothing compared to seeing her in the flesh. Her face is flushed, her breasts heave, and she’s mumbling nonsense, but it’s when she presses her bare foot to my balls and says my name again in a raspy voice that I come all over my hand. A little jizz lands on my slacks—a sacrifice I’d make a dozen times to see a spent Tina fall to her back without a care in the world.

“Christ, I needed that,” she admits with a little breathless laugh like she can’t believe she confessed such a thing out loud.

I scoot until my chair is between her spread legs, sliding my fingers free. I hold my wet palm to her mouth, surprised when she begins lapping my cum until none remains. “Damn, that’s hot.” I part the two sections of her wrap skirt, exposing her shiny thighs. My mouth waters. “My turn.”

With the flat of my tongue, I lap at her from bottom to top, swirling around her clit a few times before diving back in. Holy fuck, she tastes perfect. Thick and tangy and warm. “This honey is for my tongue alone, isn’t that right?”

Other than a small, pleased hum, she stays completely lost in the moment.

Somewhere in the outer office a phone rings. I nip at her swollen pearl. The phone rings again. This time, the sound seems to bring her to her senses because she bolts upright, slapping my head away. Hard, I might add.

She jumps off the desk and her dress falls back into place. “Oh, my God, what are you doing?”

I rub my head and scowl. “Taking what’s mine, giver .” Grabbing her around the waist, I yank her to my lap, roughly pulling her skirt out of the way as I do. I’m still unzipped and the feel of her ass cheeks against my dick is everything. “I swear I could come just like this,” I say, nipping at the fabric-covered side-boob currently in my face, liking the wet teeth marks it leaves behind so much I do it again. “You can pretend you don’t like it, but I tasted the truth.” I reach to expose her tits, and she slaps me again. I rub my stinging scalp. “Ow. Jesus, stop hitting me.”

While I’m distracted, she weasels her way off my lap to stand. “We’re not doing this here.” She spins on her heels, but not before I see her check out my dick.

I stand too, toeing off my shoes one at a time. “Newsflash: We just did.” I take the few steps to the dry cleaning on the chair, rummaging through the stack until I find a new pair of slacks. She yelps when I drop trou. Enjoying her unease at noticing I’m sans underwear, I take my time re-dressing. “Relax,” I say, when I turn and she has a hand over her mouth in shock. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

“Why”—she shakes her head like she can’t believe what she’s seeing—“aren’t you wearing underwear?”

I shrug. “I couldn’t find any clean ones.” I stroke my junk through my pants and smile. “Besides, I find I like the feel of it. It makes for easy access.”

She rolls her eyes when I wink. I tilt my head, studying her more closely; her eyes are a deeper green than usual. Her blush runs from her cheeks to her chest, and I bet if I stripped her, she’d be rosy all over. I’m stepping closer to do just that when she rears back her arm for another slap.

I’m ready for it this time, though, and catch her wrist in my palm before it can make contact, yanking her close. At this rate, I’ll have a permanent concussion when this is over. “Hit me again,” I growl against her ear, “and I’ll tie these hands behind your back until you can behave.”